# 136 - THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991)

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1990 - SERIAL KILLER THRILLER) ***** out of *****

(Fava beans, anyone?)

Now there‘s a mouthful…

CAST: Jodie Foster, Anthony Hopkins, Scott Glenn, Anthony Heald, Kasi Lemmons, Diane Baker, Brooke Smith, Ted Levine.

DIRECTOR: Jonathan Demme

WARNING: Some SPOILERS and seriously questionable use of visiting hours - straight ahead




I remember the first time I saw THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS because it was the first time a whole tub of popcorn sat, barely-touched, on my lap. It's not because of the movie was gory (it is, but not overly so), or because I wasn't very hungry (I'm always hungry - ask anyone), but because the movie was just so suspenseful and exciting. I remember feeling like I was in the presence of greatness. And I was. If a movie can make me forget my food, then that, folks, is something quite remarkable.

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS practically created the Serial Killer genre as we know it today. Of course, that's considered by some to be a dubious distinction, at best, and a lamentable one, at worst. For better or worse, a plethora of similarly-plotted films soon followed. Some have been stellar in their own right (SEVEN, COPYCAT), others have been interesting or different enough to stand above the pack (TAKING LIVES, JENNIFER EIGHT, KISS THE GIRLS, HANNIBAL, MR. BROOKS), even more have been average or above-average (THE BONE COLLECTOR, THE CRIMSON RIVERS, RED DRAGON, THE CELL, HORSEMEN), and yet even more have been below-average and missable (STRIKING DISTANCE, SAW, SUSPECT ZERO, THE COLLECTOR, HIGHWAYMEN, GIALLO).

Bottom line? At its best, the Serial Killer genre has provided us with some razor-sharp thrills and pulse-pounding suspense. At its most average, it's given us some decent entertainment. At its worst, it's subjected us to hours of our lives we will never get back - and DVD rentals or - heaven forbid - purchases that might as well be used as coasters. Suffice it to say, THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS belongs in the first category: it is quite likely the best serial killer thriller ever made. And it has the Academy Awards to prove it.

The plot is elegance defined: an FBI Academy trainee (Jodie Foster) is recruited by one of her superiors (Scott Glenn) to solicit the help of institutionalized cannibalistic psychopath Dr. Hannibal Lecter (Sir Anthony Hopkins) in profiling a new serial killer named Buffalo Bill, who has been abducting women laterly in the Midwestern and Southern states - and skinning them. Hence the nickname.

The trainee is Clarice Starling, and she's a coolly confident chick. After rebuffing the rather alarming advances of Dr. Chilton (Anthony Heald), the institution's director, she is taken to Dr. Lecter's cell block where the following things happen: (1) an inmate tells her that he can smell her you-know-what; (2) Dr. Lecter calls her "tornado-bait white trash" before telling her to take a hike (ouch); and (3) the aforementioned inmate hurls a glob of cum right at her face.

In other words, not exactly the most positive first meeting in history.

Still, it's not a complete train wreck. Before Lecter told Clarice to vamoose, he also shared with her some juicy tidbits of information which, Clarice being the brilliant chick that she is, quickly deciphers to be a self-storage unit that belonged to one of Dr. Lecter's patients - that is, before said patient's lover decapitated him. And before the not-so-good doctor was revealed to be a people-eating carnivore.

Soon, through deductive reasoning that Sherlock Holmes would envy, Clarice figures out that whoever killed Dr. Lecter's patient is also Buffalo Bill. Lecter confirms this by saying that his patient was just Billy Boy's practice run at homicide. Presumably, he got better at it and stopped leaving the heads behind in self-storage units. He also tells Clarice that he can help her make a name for herself by providing insight into Buffalo Bill's pathology. In exchange for a cell with a view. How generous of our not-so-good doctor, eh?

Then another girl is abducted. She just happens to be Catherine Martin (Brooke Smith), daughter of Senator Ruth Martin (Diane Baker). As you can imagine, this sends the FBI and various other law enforcement agencies into a tizzy with a major case of the ass-puckers. I wonder if they would have hopped to it in the same way if Catherine had been the daughter of a greasy-spoon waitress. Methinks not.

Crawford sends Clarice back into the dungeons to offer Lecter a deal: help them catch Buffalo Bill in time to save Catherine's life, and they will relocate Lecter to more comfortable surroundings - to include an "annual vacation" on an island. Under SWAT team surveillance, naturally. For a minute there, I thought that the FBI was getting a little soft.

Will Lecter go for the deal? Will he help Clarice get to Buffalo Bill in time? Or will Catherine end up just like all the other victims? Does Lecter have an agenda of his own? Or does he really want to help Clarice? How can Clarice trust a psychopath? Will she survive this "deal with the devil?" Is Crawford being completely straight with Clarice? Or does he, too, have his own agenda? And most importantly: what the hell is up with Buffalo Bill and that home-made music video?

You'll see what I mean. And trust me - you will never listen to the song in question ever again without feeling the heebie-jeebies and laughing out loud - simulataneously.


BUT, SERIOUSLY: I remember reading the novel back in 1990 right before THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS came out in theaters. I finished the book in less than three hours. Thomas Harris crafted a visceral, elegant, and perfect thriller. Combining a psychological thriller with a "ticking-clock" element and two very interesting character studies, the novel was simply breathtaking. It's one of those stories that you just almost regret finishing because you know it will be awhile before another story as powerful and gripping comes along - if ever.

The film is a perfect cinematic realization of the book. Just like the novel, it is moves grimly and inexorably forward and gains momentum without sacrificing the delicate psychology that gave the plot a lot of depth. Clarice's background not only shapes her actions, but also informs her relationships with both Crawford and Lecter. Having lost her father when she was just a little girl, Clarice is essentially torn between two father figures - one good (Crawford) and the other evil (Lecter). The juxtaposing of these connections is mirrored by two scenes: (1) Lecter brushing Clarice's hand when he hands her the Buffalo Bill case in Memphis; and (2) Crawford similarly clasping Clarice's hand during the graduation at the finale.

It's the central relationship between Clarice and Lecter that gives the film it's punch, though. Clearly, Lecter is interested in Clarice. But what does he feel? Curiosity? Attraction? Exasperation? Love? Protectiveness? As the sequel HANNIBAL would confirm, it's all of the above - and maybe more. As with the most powerful cinematic couples, Clarice and Lecter's connection is made implicit rather than explicit. In the sequel, it would become more explicit (more on that in HANNIBAL's review). By making the conflict between Clarice and Lecter the primary thread, and not Buffalo Bill's murder spree, both the book and the film end up being more than just about a mad killer on the loose. It becomes about honor and courage, about a woman making a deal with the devil to save the life of another woman. And it's all beautifully played by Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins.

Foster very much deserved her Academy Award for Best Actress for this role. With Clarice Starling, she actually creates a full-blooded character, instead of just saying lines and hitting her marks. Clarice is simultaneously demure, tough, naive, worldly, courageous, scared, ambitious, and humble. But Foster makes all her contradictions seamless and fathomable. With just a few key tidbits revealed about her past, the character comes alive and becomes one of the strongest and most complex heroines to grace the silver screen.

Playing a more flamboyant and attention-grabbing role, Anthony Hopkins makes screen legend with his Academy Award-winning portrayal of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Evil has never been more seductive and terrifying onscreen. In Hopkins' hands, the character is unforgettable not just because of how frightening he is, but also how human he is at the most unexpected of times. It's Clarice that brings this out in him. While we know he doesn't really care whether or not Catherine lives, but is really interested in improving his confinement, we also sense that he is also helping Clarice because he somehow feels a kinship with her - and therefore cares for her.

And then there's the glimmer of tears in Lecter's eyes when Clarice finally breaks down and tells him the story of the screaming lambs - which is the trauma that pushes Clarice to save others. By revealing this deeply personal story that essentially leaves her at her most naked and vulnerable, Clarice achieves an intimacy with Lecter that is obviously unprecedented with anyone else. It doesn't matter that she does it to save Catherine. What's important is the reaction Lecter has to it: those tears pooling in his eyes as she finishes the story, and his words: "Thank you, Clarice. Thank you." If that's not a sign of humanity, I don't know what is.

While this movie belongs to Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins, kudos should also go to the supporting cast for their more-than-able assistance. Scott Glenn is cool, calm presence as Crawford. His scenes with Foster as Clarice radiate with paternal pride and affection. This is cemented by his comment at the end that her father would be proud of her.

Brooke Smith, Diane Baker, and Kasi Lemmons are all good as, respectively, the scared-then-steely Catherine, her terrified mother whose power is useless against a vicious killer, and Clarice's best friend at the Academy. These women are all strong and pivotal to the plot, and - along with the movie's remarkable heroine - help make up for the unpleasant fact that all of Buffalo Bill's victims are female.

Finally, there's Buffalo Bill himself. As played by Ted Levine, he is one of scariest villains to grace the silver screen. His pathology is both pathetic and terrifying at the same time. Not going to reveal it here, but suffice it to say, it's quite messed-up. Which I guess is why he's a serial killer.

Long story short, this movie is awesome. It's that simple. Go see it again, to be reminded of how brilliant it is. And if you haven't seen it yet, you are in for a treat - just remember one thing going in, though: this movie came before all the knock-offs you might have seen before it. And there's likely never going to be another Serial Killer flick quite as excellent.