John Lucking reviews the eleventh episode of Hannibal….
“Directed by Guillermo Navarro”; and with that you know you’re going to be watching Hannibal at its best, both visually and thematically. Navarro’s imagination has lent itself beautifully to Will’s mental state and the various grisly goings on, and ‘Rôti’ was no exception to this rule. The pre-credits sequence designed to grab your attention even eschews a dead body in favour of illustrating Will’s latest hallucination, while managing to communicate his trajectory throughout the episode. The stock-looking footage of glaciers gives way to an update of Dali’s melting clocks and Will is consumed by water as he thrashes in his bed. It’s a visual highpoint, one that makes it worth remembering the kind of show this was thought to be versus the show it became.
The episode’s thematic concerns are rooted in identity and control, with the reappearance of Eddie Izzard’s psychotic and confused Gideon serving as a mirror for Will’s own loss of identity and control. So if Will has lost control then what has he lost it to? The answer, of course, is not what, but who; Lecter. Will’s encephalitis is the lesser of two evils in this loss of identity, but as Lecter continues to manipulate Will and the perception of Will to those around him it becomes amplified and thus serious cause for concern. During an early session Will expresses further concern about his grasp on reality before Lecter drawls, “Will, you have me as your gauge.” Now able to assert dominance over what exactly Will defines as reality and serving as his mental barometer his manipulation is taken past suggestion and onto the next level. The only spark of hope here is Will’s admission that it feels as if somebody has been moving furniture in his head – he just needs to figure out who’s in there. Gideon on the other hand is aware of his manipulator in Dr. Chilton – the psychic driving and implanted suggestion that he was the ripper have backfired and he intends to enact revenge on anybody that has ever made him doubt his identity.
Gideon escapes and begins slaughtering his perceived oppressors before trapping Freddie Lounds and forcing her to write the story of his spree as it happens. His Columbian neck-tie scene again shows a dedication to the macabre that similar shows lack; whereas a limp tongue hanging out through a neck would usually suffice we’re treated to its last languid movements as it slows to an eventual halt. It’s about as perfect a counterpart to the human totem as you can get, with both managing to repel and delight but on a vastly different scale.
Lecter tips off the FBI as to Gideon’s location courtesy of a body minus one arm (leading them to surmise it’s a message for Jack, referring to the observatory where Miriam’s arm was found) and on the way Jack again attempts to help Will put things into perspective. It’s clear that Jack cares about Will; this is not a man of stone abusing a tool, but the reason for poking at Will’s sanity is ultimately to save lives. It has become a mutually agreed upon notion between the two men that while this is not ideal -or perhaps even sustainable- the end result is worth it.
Raúl Esparza gets another chance to shine as Dr. Chilton and he manages to ooze slime in just about every frame, but it’s hard not to feel some sympathy as he watches his own organs being pulled from a cavity in his torso before being made into a living human gift basket for the FBI. Will however stumbles upon Gideon’s car and in a hallucinatory state believes him to be Gareth Jacob Hobbs. He then forces Gideon at gunpoint to drive to Lecter’s house so that his own private mental barometer can indeed confirm that this is real and not just a hallucination. Unfortunately the fruits of Lecter’s manipulation comes to bear and he is able to convince Will that not only is this not Hobbs, but that he drove here alone, all before Will succumbs to a mild seizure. Gideon is a man who was once merely confused, but after years of manipulation is now utterly void of a personal identity. Lecter notes the tragedy of having your identity taken from you, but Gideon sees this as his personal tragedy of family man to professional curiosity, and not in the passing of the identity of the Ripper from one man to the next – self-doubt is not typically associated with psychopaths, but narcissism is. Lecter tells Gideon where to find Alana before telling Will of Gideon’s intentions, leading to a showdown between the two outside Alana’s house, and Gideon voices his despair in not knowing his identity.
Will still sees Gideon as Hobbs, even as he places a bullet into his head, and the crisis of identity is then solely shifted onto Will. The initial shooting of Hobbs was justified, but the spectre of that action has plagued him ever since. The spectre of death and guilt found in the stag has become a symbol for Will’s ultimate attenuation, but mental rationalisation is a poor substitute for emotional realisation, and so the knowledge that the man he shot was Gideon might not be enough. Gideon’s aim was to emulate the ripper in an attempt to forge some kind of understanding with a man whose identity displaced his own, but even he knows this to be a hollow gesture. Self-actualisation can only follow from an understanding of one’s own identity, and in the world of Hannibal’s killers -much like in the world of art- intentions are king. Will’s identity has not been replaced wholesale but rather “shifted around,” placing him in line with sufferers of various other mental illnesses who begin to doubt their own actions before then fearing the potential consequences.
After the drama we’re given an end-of-episode rationalisation as Gillian Anderson returns to put Will’s condition into perspective, with Lecter noting the similarities between the two men. He breaks into a full-blown grin (his version of a grin) when considering that his fascination from Will stems from his unique nature; that Will’s problems are not everyday occurrences like his other patients and that his madness is a gift to be treasured as an antidote to the typical. Will’s mental state indeed presents an opportunity, “an opportunity for friendship” Lecter states. This scene is purely insight into Lecter’s mind, but it’s still a pleasure to see Anderson back in the fold, and hopefully indicative of a larger part to come. The episode as a whole is a solid balance of plot momentum and characterisation, and while we end with Dr. Du Maurier encouraging Lecter to step back from Will, where’s the fun in that?
John Lucking
Originally published June 8, 2013. Updated April 11, 2018.
