Released: February 14, 1991
Director: Jonathan Demme
Screenplay: Ted Tally (based on the 1988 novel of the same name by Thomas Harris)
Tagline: "To enter the mind of a killer, she must challenge the mind of a madman. May the Silence be broken"
Cast:
Jodie Foster as Clarice Starling
Anthony Hopkins as Dr. Hannibal Lecter
Scott Glenn as Jack Crawford
Ted Levine as Jame "Buffalo Bill" Gumb
Anthony Heald as Dr. Frederick Chilton
The second adaptation of a novel by Thomas Harris featuring Hannibal Lecter, following Michael Mann's Manhunter (1986), The Silence of the Lambs (1991) replaced clinical coldness with visceral excess in a story that follows an FBI agent-in-training, Clarice Starling, after she is recruited by her section head Jack Crawford to interview the incarcerated serial killer Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter in the hopes that the madman and former psychiatrist will provide useful information about a current investigation, the hunt for another serial killer nicknamed "Buffalo Bill."
As much as the film is about Clarice's hunt for Buffalo Bill, a plot thread heightened by a "ticking clock" in the form of a U.S. senator's daughter being kidnapped by the madman and Lecter's assessment that Bill is undergoing some sort of "sexual metamorphoses," it is also about Clarice's search her own identity. In this quest, she is torn between two father figures, Lecter and Crawford, both of them vying to substitute for the law-enforcement father she lost to a violent crime in childhood. This quest of self-discovery is mirrored by the twisted and delusional Buffalo Bill, who must choose his own destiny as well: whether to remain male, as he was biologically born, or to become female, as he feels is his true gender, psychologically speaking.
Clairce is ambitious, sincere in her training, and striving to fit into the male-dominated, macho world of the FBI, yet Foster plays the role with a restrained take, which plays off perfectly against Hopkins's mannered portrayal of the cultured serial killer. Both of Clarice's mentors "use" her for their own personal agendas--Crawford to experiment with Lecter, Lecter to gain small tastes of freedom in exchange for his aid on the Buffalo Bill case, and yet it is Lecter, despite the fact that he is clearly a monster, who is far more open about his set of desires and "befriends" Clarice. It's part what makes the character dynamic between Clarice and Lecter so complex and engrossing for the viewer to watch. At the same time that the cannibalistic doctor is ruthlessly digging into Clarice's psyche, he is also treating her more honestly and equitably than her "other father," giving good counsel about the Buffalo Bill case and not stooping to Crawford's games.
"You know, for a second date, I'd love to have you for dinner"
While Clarice determines if she will be the child of the slick Jack Crawford or the monstrous but somehow sincere Hannibal Lecter, or if she will stand independent and on her own, Buffalo Bill is hunting for identity in all too different, sinister manner. Since he believes identity hinges on his skin, not his soul, he believes that if he "wear" the skin of a woman, he will be perceived as one. Simple as that. This shallow definition of the self drives Bill's actions, all of which end up being a sham that cannot hide his internal ugliness. Certain readings of the film suggest that Bill is a self-loathing homosexual who, by transforming, hopes to eradicate his homosexuality. By becoming a woman, he hopes that his desire for sexual intercourse with men will be "deemed natural" by society at large.
As can be seen, there are complex themes and relationships at work in the film, shifting under the surface, all wrapped up in the thrilling and suspenseful hunt for Buffalo Bill. It's all a complicated puzzle, a confusing maze, that Clarice and the audience must navigate together. This is how director Jonathan Demme draws you into the world of the characters, staging a preponderance of tracking shots throughout the film that suggest a journey through a labyrinth. Oftentimes, the camera is positioned behind Clarice and it follows her path, cornering and bobbing to keep track of her progress. The audience literally moves with her. Spectatorship is not an option here. This is a film that is mean to be viewed actively. Take the opening sequence, for example, in which this partnered viewing aesthetic is set up as the camera tracks Clarice jogging through the woods near Quantico. When she is summoned to Crawford's office, the camera adopts the same pose: following her through the bureaucratic maze of the building interior.
These kinds of sequences are chilling. The claustrophobia is not just seen, it is felt and heard as well. In the film's anxious denouement, the maze imagery recurs again as Clarice, finally in sight of her prey, descends into Buffalo Bill's basement of horrors. Again, the camera takes up a perspective behind her as she countenances twists and turns in her hunt for the killer, who is also moving from room to room. This style of vertigo-producing composition not only suggests the confusion, frustration, and panic associated with mazes and puzzles, but also performs the important work of keeping crucial positional information hidden from the audience at the same time Clarice is denied it. The audience gazes over Clarice's shoulder, attempting to make out details, to "see" the killer hidden amongst the shadows and the creepy clutter, just as she does. The angle makes the viewer not only sympathize with her task, but also experience her fear, too.
"Come on Bill, we're playing cops and robbers, not hide and seek, dammit"
But of course, the film's true gem comes in the form of Anthony Hopkins and his Academy Award winning turn as the psychopathic psychiatrist. Totaling only 16 minutes of screen time, the shortest ever to secure a Best Actor Oscar, there is nothing subtle about Hopkins's portrayal--he himself described his voice as a combination of Truman Capote and Katharine Hepburn--and yet with so little screen time, he dominates the movie. Hopkins plays Lecter brilliantly, like a lion quietly waiting for the right moment to pounce. This is someone to never ever, ever turn your back on. The audience's fear of Hannibal is cleverly amped by the writing and direction as well: the extreme security arrangements around him and the weariness of his gaolers all combine to tell us that this is a man to be feared above all others.
Hannibal lurks in the shadows, makes designs for his own freedom, and makes the viewer shrink back, twitching and shifting, at those wide, hungry eyes. And yet, he is constantly pushing Clarice, and thus the audience, to do the same, to see-- to notice what is right in front of her. This connects to what many viewers feel is the central social commentary in Silence of the Lambs. Throughout the film, many images involve the Gulf War, military-issue night-vision goggles, and the United States flag. These symbols of America appear several times, mostly in association with Buffalo Bill and his home. At one point, a poster is seen that reads "America: Open Your Eyes." What the surfeit of American patriotic symbolism seems to suggest to some is that while America is focused on "exterior" threats like Saddam Hussein in Iraq, deeper threats such as Buffalo Bill are emerging domestically. The Cold War, Desert Storm, and other "conflicts" have taken attention away from the poor, and from the crumbling infrastructure itself, especially in the Red State America depicted in the film. The result is that a deep sickness has blossomed in our very back yards.
Perhaps this is what makes Lecter so terrifying and so iconic in the realm of horror and pop culture in general. He is the monster formed when we look away, a vicious superhero of a villain who dares us to come close, to understand, and then drowns us. The Silence of the Lambs was the film that serial killers the must have accessory for mainstream-crossover horror movies of the 1990's. The sexual fission between the two leads led to a number of big-budget dark thriller/horror films featuring a quasi-supernatural killer with a special relationship to his profiler, but the relationship between Lecter and Sterling is more complex than any of these imitators. Of all the men in the movie, Lecter is the only one to treat Clarice with genuine respect and comes to see her as more than a means to an end. They touch just once, his finger touching hers when she hands him a report, and the moment carries a disturbing sexual charge. At its twisted heart, The Silence of the Lambs could be read as a love story, but when this subtext became text in the subsequent Hannibal (2000), it was drained of its power.
"You know, I do believe I could just eat you up"
The Silence of the Lambs is a beautiful film, well-crafted, intelligent, and deeply disturbing., being quite shocking at times. Along with Hopkins as Lecter, Ted Levine's performance as Buffalo Bill is one of the scariest and most realistic to grace the silver screen. Everything he does, each quirk and mannerism, and even the way he talks, makes you uneasy. And the scenes of bleak psychological warfare between Clarice and Hannibal have become legendary, as has the film itself for being the only horror film to not only win the Academy Award for Best Picture, but for being one of only three films to win in the Big Five categories (Picture, Actor, Actress, Screenplay, Director), the other two being It Happened One Night (1934) and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975). It's an impressive feat, considering that the only other horror film to have even been nominated for Best Picture was The Exorcist (1973), which lost to The Sting (1973).
Some have argued that The Silence of the Lambs is more dark thriller than horror because of its reliance on technology, psychology, and DNA to track down a serial killer. I've never seen the logic in that camp. The film's dark tone, eerie tracking shots, sinister and twisted storyline, and Hopkins's portrayal have always solidified the film as horror to me. Hannibal Lecter was brought to life by this film as one of the most unique horror villains of all time. Urbane, witty, and cunning, he is perhaps the most civil and charming boogeyman in horror…that is, until he rips out your tongue for breakfast.
The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
5-Totally Terrifying
4-Crazy Creepy
3-Fairly Frightening
2-Slightly Scary
1-Hardly Horror
