John Lucking reviews the season finale of Hannibal….
So how about that ending? It’s one that could have been conceived before a line of dialogue was ever written and one that certainly feels like it was, as on reflection this entire season of Hannibal has been working to justify this moment. The actions of Lecter throughout have been curious, and as it turns out that was exactly his motivation; curiosity. His reasons for being so curious have been outright stated as a by-product of the excitement and spontaneity that Will brought into his life, but as the show has noted before it’s self-preservation that Lecter values above all else. Working as a copycat killer in the shadows of Will’s investigations it seemed the show’s aim was to illustrate Lecter’s brutality when really this was a result of careful logic – having your cake is one thing, but having somebody else take the blame for eating it is another.
To start the episode Will is seen hunting his stag-as-guilt-personified, wounding and thus possibly making some inroads towards alleviating this burden, but any step towards healing is thrown out of the window when Abigail’s disembodied ear turns up in his sink. The police arrive after a phone call and we watch as Will is processed with a look of weary resignation. Will doesn’t know for sure that he killed Abigail back in Minnesota, but the gaps in his memory and evidence before him have instilled enough doubt to make him think he did. The only problem with Lecter’s plan is that he pushes just a little too far by placing various parts of various victims onto each of Will’s home-made fishing lures. The DNA of every victim throughout the season can be traced to these lures, but Will’s self-doubt only extends to Abigail and he wasn’t sick when the majority of the other murders happened.
Being told of all this evidence by Jack is enough to trigger doubt in Will, so much so that he breaks free from his restraints en route to the correctional facility and escapes. As any other character does in this situation he goes straight to Lecter, and from here they drive to Minnesota to where Abigail died in an attempt to understand what happened. They return to Abigail’s house and find her blood staining the kitchen floor as Lecter recaps the actions of Will in that very room thirteen episodes ago. The lasting impact of violence is something which the pilot made clear it would acknowledge, but it’s still impressive to see a procedural show follow through with this and ultimately bookend not just the season but Will’s sense of self. Lecter continues the role of therapist and nudges Will to explain the power he felt in killing Hobbs; an action Will describes as almost dispersing a physical embodiment of evil, with the sense of power arriving later. Eventually Will is able to gather his thoughts and think clearly, leading him to deduce and then accuse Lecter of being the man behind the curtain. In spite of these accusations Lecter never admits or denies, but rather deflects. Jack eventually steps in with a bullet which knocks Will to the ground, but before he loses consciousness we are shown Lecter as Will now sees him: the physical embodiment of his stag. If the stag represents Will’s guilt over Hobbs and all those he couldn’t save then it seems as if Lecter has now assumed the entirety of this burden in Will’s eyes.
In contrast to other finales the plot episode is somewhat light, but it’s the characters who dominate throughout with complete and affecting performances from the entire cast. Beverly is given a moment with Will as she expresses her frustration and cautious disbelief towards his actions, and Alana is brought back in after a brief hiatus just in time to shoulder some of the responsibility for putting Will in a place that lead to his downfall. Despite Alana’s somewhat less than concrete characterisation this season her despair and responsibility towards Will’s actions feels wholly earned, but it’s Jack who bears the brunt of this weight. Fishburne’s approach is also true to his character as it’s one of guarded emotion and weariness; not a lack of emotion but rather the inability to express this through anything other than a body indicative of a tired mind.
David Slade himself also bookends the season, returning to directorial duty for the first time since the third episode, and it’s noticeable in the best possible way. The style has remained consistent throughout but each director has brought something unique to the table, and Slade’s strength is in dark beauty. The stand-out scene is of course Will and Lecter’s final bout of therapy as Will recaps the season’s victims and we’re shown each corpse in the form of a trophy, posed in death and immortalised in bronze. The lighting is also of particular note as we open the episode with a dark tint around the edges which closes around the frame until the end of the episode when we are left with nothing but darkness surrounding Mads’ sculpted exterior. The opportunity for dream-like imagery is readily available thanks to Will but this episode does largely eschew this easy route in favour of reflecting Will’s utter despair and the closing of the season. Having set the bar this high with season one Bryan Fuller and company should be happy if they’re able just to hit it again second time around, but I know they won’t settle for that and as a viewer that’s exciting. The idea of no second season would certainly have made this episode a lot darker, but for now at least the darkness has won.
John Lucking
Originally published June 25, 2013. Updated April 14, 2018.
