Hannibal review: “Mizumono”

Here it is: the final course. In “Mizumono” we finally get to see not only the fight that Hannibal began its second season with, but also the buildup to it, and its horrific aftermath. Creator Bryan Fuller (who co-wrote “Mizumono” with Steve Lightfoot) effectively clears the table and lets us know that season three will be a radically different dish – and that some of our old friends might not make it to the meal.

Brian Retizell’s music is appropriately propulsive, filled with metronomic sounds that bring to mind the increasingly rapid march of time. Will coaches Hannibal and Jack on how to kill the other, and they both ask him, in a bizarre splitscreen shot, “When the time comes, will you do what’s right?” Hannibal thinks Will is his man; Jack thinks Will is his. It’s a testament to Hugh Dancy’s performance that I wasn’t even sure myself – and I don’t think Will was either.

Who is Will Graham at this point? He’s so far removed from the FBI profiler – sorry, mindhunter – we met in season one that they might as well be different characters. “You thought you could change me,” Hannibal says at one point, “the way I changed you.” And he’s right. Will has quietly undergone a transformation before our eyes not seen since the milquetoast Walter White turned into the villainious Heisenberg. Will could conceivably become a serial killer – and not only would he be damn good at it, but it wouldn’t even be out of line with the kind of show that Hannibal is.

Jack is forced to make the decision to kill Hannibal rather than arrest him because once Kade Prurnell (Cynthia Nixon) finds out about his and Will’s plan, her response is to place Jack on “compassionate leave,” effective immediately. She even goes so far as to issue warrants for his and Will’s arrest. (So I was right: as a character analogous to Paul Krendler, she did turn out to be a pain in the ass, but her brain remains unfortunately uneaten.) Jack goes to Hannibal’s house – which should really be called a “lair” – and the chaos begins. The remainder of “Mizumono” is Hannibal at its absolutely bloodiest. It’s admirable, really, and I found myself wondering how this show found a home on NBC of all places.

READ:  Hannibal: "Primavera"

Jack is wounded during the fight, taking a shard of glass to the neck. He hides in the pantry, bleeding, while Hannibal throws himself against the door, knives in both hands, looking not only animalistic but monstrous. Alana shows up, and Hannibal entreats her to leave. She tries to shoot him, but Hannibal had already taken her bullets. As he stalks her around the house, she makes her way to his office where she finds…Abigail Hobbs, who pushes her out the window. (My guess is that Abigail is what Beverly Katz found in Hannibal’s cellar, which is why she had to die.)

Will shows up in time to see Alana, battered but living. The real shock comes when he sees Abigail, and for a brief moment Fuller actually allows us to feel happy for Will. Until Hannibal comes into the kitchen. “We didn’t want to leave without you,” he says, and stabs Will in the gut. “Come here, Abigail,” he says to the girl, before slitting her throat. At the episode’s end, Will and Abigail are both bleeding out on the floor, Will trying to staunch the bleeding on her neck instead of taking care of himself.

And Hannibal? He just walks right out the front door, not even bothering to change out of his bloody shirt. The message is clear: evil exists all around us, maybe even in that well-dressed Danish man who’s so good at cooking.

It’s fitting that the episode is called “Mizumono;” the final dish of kaiseki, mizumono is traditionally an ice cream or confectionary dish. It’s a palate cleanser. But as the rain washes over Hannibal Lecter, a classic visual motif for cleansing or redemption, we don’t feel refreshed. We feel scared. And that is the dark, gruesome magic of Hannibal.

Season Grade: 5 Stars

 

 

About Author

T. Dawson

Trevor Dawson is the Executive Editor of GAMbIT Magazine. He is a musician, an award-winning short story author, and a big fan of scotch. His work has appeared in Statement, Levels Below, Robbed of Sleep vols. 3 and 4, Amygdala, Mosaic, and Mangrove. Trevor lives in Denver, CO.

Learn More →