Hannibal‘s magnificent freshman season wasn’t just the biggest surprise of 2013 – it was one of the most fully-realized, confident dramas in recent memory, a beacon of hope amongst NBC’s latest litter of failed dramas, and the larger dramatic television landscape shifting to the narrative freedoms of cable television (or beyond, in the case of Netflix and Amazon). Visually and literally rich, Hannibal subverted every expectation of a “cop procedural” with a serial killer, weaving the violent cases of the week into the overarching narrative with meaning, detailing the psychological degradation of people in the face of horrible violence – and in a way, condemning other shows and viewers who allow the constant stream of violence on their television screen wash over them and fall away. Hannibal was not just a show about serial killers and their disgusting murders; it was a show about the mind and the soul, through the twisted prisms of two psychotic men on opposite sides of the law.
Needless to say, the expectations were high for season two; and hot damn, does “Kaiseki” deliver. And right from the opening scene: “Kaiseki” begins in the climatic moments of season two, when Jack Crawford finally confronts Hannibal with the knowledge of the monster he is (information told silently through Crawford’s eyes, a brilliant example of Hannibal avoiding the common pitfalls of exposition-heavy network dramas). What ensues is a vicious fight scene, two men battering each other to near death; and we’re left with the image of Hannibal trying to break into his wine cellar, where Jack Crawford’s locked himself inside, bleeding profusely from a glass shard Hannibal shoved into his neck.
There are no words spoken in the scene – and none are needed; the forty minutes that follow move the time line back twelve weeks, establishing the distinct differences between Crawford in Lecter’s home, and the Jack Crawford who visits Will Graham in the Baltimore psychiatric ward where he is imprisoned. Somewhere along the way from “Kaiseki” to “Mizumono” (the season finale, named after the final dessert course of a Kaiseki dinner), Crawford discovers who and want Hannibal is – and giving us that knowledge from the opening scene makes what happens in the premiere (and everything to follow) that much more intriguing.
Of course, the most fascinating parts of Hannibal come from its titular character; and in “Kaiseki”, we get to see the many layers of Hannibal (and the terrific, supremely underrated performance of Mads Mikkelson in the role): although he is a pragmatic man, Hannibal is still supremely invested in his ‘friendship’ with Will, clinging onto the only human being in the world who truly understands him, even if Hannibal knows that knowledge may eventually be his undoing another fantastic example of Hannibal using given knowledge to raise dramatic tensions). Lecter’s obsession with Will is so intense, he gets giddy telling Dr. du Maurier about “being in Will’s shoes”, assisting in the weird, human doll murders that exist mostly in the background of the episode.
However, those human dolls serve an important symbolic purpose (as does the stag, the metronome, and so many other visual cues that Hannibal loves): Hannibal is trying to preserve his image in the face of an investigation from the FBI, even one that appears to be more of a courtesy. Beverly mentions how one of the corpses they found was “rotting from the inside”; in maintaining that aura of innocence, Lecter’s sociopathic tendencies are only growing stronger (eventually to the point he tries to kill Jack Crawford, of all people), the rot inside his soul extended to those he purports to care about (even Dr. du Maurier, whom he threatens to lie for him when Crawford comes a’knocking to poke around Lecter’s psyche). His chiseled, dapper appearance is but one of a carefully maintained perfection, the grotesque beauty the doll maker seeks in his own creations.
How long can he maintain that facade? The closer Hannibal draws his enemies, the more control over them he seems to have (Bloom, Crawford, Will, etc.) – but it’s only a matter of time before Will’s fly-fishing in his brain and latches onto something. He does for a brief moment in “Kaiseki”, a vague memory of Hannibal force-feeding him Abigail Hobbs’ ear. Until then, Hannibal will run around in Will’s shoes, and Will will run around his brain, patiently waiting for it all to come back – and when it does, “there will be a reckoning.” I for one, can’t fucking wait to see it.
Grade: A
Other thoughts/observations:
– a nice bit of allusion when Kade Prunell (Cynthia Nixon) points out that Alana has “wounded Agent Crawford”. Certainly no worse than that neck wound he’s currently dealing with.
– “What can’t you repress, Hannibal?”
– “you should think about supplementing your wardrobe.” “I frequently do.”
– who else is Dr. du Maurier lying for? Hannibal alludes to something when he so effortlessly ‘persuades’ her to help.
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