Margaux and I discuss this week’s Fight Club-y installment of Hannibal.
Trevor: I feel like “And the Beast From the Sea” was a real turning point for the Red Dragon storyline. Everyone put their cards on the table and showed what they really wanted. Jack said that Dolarhyde’s suicide would suit him “just fine”; Will’s stepson Walter told him that he should kill the Red Dragon instead of catching him; and more than anyone, Hannibal showed just how shallow his helpful spirit runs. Starting with “Save yourself. Kill them all” and coming full circle to “They’re listening.” I like Hannibal’s conversations with Dolarhyde because they make him a much more active participant in the story.
Margaux: Hannibal is not of the helpful spirit variety, he will only ‘help’ should the situation suit him. He used eat people he thought were rude. Which is also why Hannibal proclaims to never lie (something a rude person would do), as he tells Alana before she removes all the niceties from his lavish cell, he always tells the truth in his own way. And if you go back and listen a little closer to Hannibal and Will’s conversations, he was warning Will (in his own way) of what was to come to his new-found family.
Trevor: “It’s not my family, Will.” Mads Mikkelsen’s delivery truly chills (although I loved Will’s cowboy delivery of “I’m about worn out with you crazy sons of bitches”). The funny thing about Hannibal’s truth-telling is: I believe him. “If only you’d thought to ask,” he taunts Alana, and I 100% believe that if she’d asked who was on the phone, he would have said it was the Red Dragon.
Margaux: But no matter which way Molly feels about who’s really to blame for her and Walter’s narrow escape from the Dragon’s clutches, no one but Will made the choice to go seek Hannibal’s help. On some level, Will must of known Hannibal would lead the Dragon to Molly and Walter sooner or later, but unlike Dolarhyde (who breaks things off with Reba to save her from himself), Will can’t seem to reconcile his two very halves as easily.
Trevor: That’s an excellent point, which I want to explore further, but before we do can we talk about how great Molly and Walter are? First of all, Nina Arianda is great as Molly. Second, I love that Hannibal never puts them in need of rescue. Francis fucking Dolarhyde is at their house in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, and not only is Molly smart enough to engineer their escape, she’s tough enough to take a bullet in the arm and keep driving her son to safety. She hasn’t gotten a ton of screentime, but sequences like that one more than make up for it.
Margaux: Though her relationship and connection with Will hasn’t gotten much screen time, you really don’t need to see them together after sitting through that terrifying sequence of Molly tip toeing around the house, several steps ahead of Dolarhyde. Even up until Molly and Walter successfully flagged down a ride, you didn’t know if they’d make out alive. I appreciate Molly not falling into the damsel in distress category, but I did question her automatically assuming she accidentally poisoned the dogs. OR DID SHE? The final shot of the FBI warning posted next to the door as they exit the vet’s office made it seem like she maybe was trying not to worry Walter further.
Trevor: I definitely think the dogs’ poisoning was Dolarhyde’s opening salvo. And the FBI warning removed all doubt. I liked that scene in the vet for two reasons: 1, the dogs didn’t die, which would have upset me because I love dogs and killing animals is usually a cheap narrative ploy; and 2, it allowed Molly to lighten the mood a bit. “The dogs aren’t gonna die,” she tells Walter, before turning to the vet. “Are the dogs gonna die?” Hannibal needs all the help it can get in the levity department.
Margaux: What, you didn’t think Alana saying: “and the toilet, too” was funny?
Trevor: More of a mic drop moment than a belly laugh moment. You could tell Alana loved saying it, though.
Margaux: As she should, but now that she’s reduced Hannibal to a non-dignified level (even though he can still stay in that in that enormous cell, which is seriously bigger than most apartments in San Francisco), what’s she got left to play against him? Sure, she kept her promise, but he’s not in a real jail and presumed “insane,” which we all know he is not.
Trevor: I could definitely see Alana’s gesture backfiring. Hannibal has nothing left to lose, so who knows what he’ll do? But to be fair, I doubt he’ll get his phone privileges back any time soon, so he kind of has no cards either. That will be an interesting stalemate. (Side note: I loved Hannibal innocently inquiring how the Dragon would contact him: “Personal ads? Notes written on toilet paper?” It was a clever, subtle nod to the way that Hannibal and Dolarhyde corresponded in the novel Red Dragon.)
Margaux: Speaking of stalemates, Dolarhyde seems to be in one with himself, or maybe more accurately, his other personality. Watching him beat himself as the Red Dragon was truly insane to watch because it made you feel crazy, and also, gives you a scary clue into his psyche at its breaking point. It was hard to watch him dump Reba, not because it was sad (it wasn’t), but because if she only saw his face and what he did to himself, she’d be breathing a sigh of relief too.
Trevor: I was sad for her because she was sad. I feel like I could phrase that better, but as viewers we have the gift and curse of omniscience. We know that Dolarhyde is the crazy-ass Red Dragon, but Reba doesn’t, and, to paraphrase her own words, she never felt pity from him, and she appreciated that. As far as she knows, she just got let down again. Props to Rutina Wesley for selling this scene (and playing blind surprisingly well). I’m sure Reba will feel better – or much, much worse – when she hears the headlines about Dolarhyde.
Margaux: Even if I hadn’t read the book or seen the previous movies, you know this isn’t the end of Reba and Dolarhyde. So much, much worse is probably a safe assumption of what’s to come.
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