"Hannibal" is a classic example of the difficulties of making a silk purse out of a sow's ear. (The pig part of the equation is important, as we'll discuss later.) The long-awaited sequel to "The Silence of the Lambs" will disappoint the legions who flock to see it, just as Thomas Harris' lurid, lazy book frustrated fans when it was finally published 18 months ago. It's easy to see why "Lambs" director Jonathan Demme and star Jodie Foster walked away from this uninspired freak show, even knowing full well that the public's fascination with the original film guarantees big bucks at the box office.

Give credit to director Ridley Scott and screenwriters David Mamet and Steven Zaillian for trying. The filmmakers dress up the book's incredulous camp with an extraordinary elegance that tries hard to disguise the shallowness of the enterprise.

It doesn't quite work, however. The flaws here are many: the passiveness of FBI agent Clarice Starling, the lack of satisfying interplay between FBI agent Starling and psychopath Hannibal Lecter and the default positioning of Lecter as the movie's illustrious hero. It adds up to a grotesquerie that has its share of suspense but falls far short of creating the mesmerizing menace of its justly celebrated predecessor

In "Hannibal," we find time has been kind to Dr. Lecter, who now resides in Florence in the 15th-century grandeur of the Palazzo Capponi. Lecter has put aside his cannibalistic ways (for now) to work as a curator and lecture visiting academics. Mostly, he dines at Florence's finest restaurants, enjoying meals that go well beyond fava beans and a nice Chianti.

Meanwhile, earnest FBI agent Clarice Starling (Julianne Moore, taking over for Foster in a reactive role) is still making headlines a decade after teaming with Lecter to capture the female-flaying serial killer "Buffalo Bill." Following a botched drug bust in the film's opening moments, the Guinness Book of Records certifies Starling as the female FBI agent with the most recorded kills.

Such notoriety doesn't sit well with Starling's superiors, and she's put on suspension. Her status changes, though, when a wealthy monster named Mason Verger (Gary Oldman, in an unbilled performance) steps forward with new information about Lecter, information he will only share with Starling.

Verger has a dubious distinction: He is the only person ever to survive an encounter with Lecter. The episode left him confined to a wheelchair, his face the consistency of a dried-up orange and his heart full of hate and vengeance.

Verger wants Lecter; he has been breeding wild pigs for the express purpose of slowly devouring the good doctor. Starling wants Lecter; not only does she want to restore her reputation, but she remains fascinated by his diabolical nature. And Lecter? After going on a cannibal's diet for the past decade, he simply seems to want a good meal.

It's still a delight watching Hopkins inhabit Lecter's dark soul, although the pleasure quickly turns guilty since the movie is so weighted in his favor. Compared to the obscenely hideous Verger, Lecter stands as a paragon of reason and restraint. Who couldn't root for him?

All of Lecter's opponents, with the exception of Starling (who is now more of an ally than an enemy, really) are vile and deserving of his fiendish brand of justice. As Lecter himself explains, he disposes of people as a public service. With any luck, he'll head to the Capitol building for the next movie.

 

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