He's back in the public eye again, even when confined to his prison cell: a literary
phenomenon, a cultured gentleman, and an iconic figure of the dark side of humanity and its
most depraved appetites. But that's enough about Jeffrey Archer, let's focus instead on the
infinitely more amiable Dr Hannibal Lecter, back on the big screen once again in Brett
Ratner's Red Dragon.

In Ratner's movie Edward Norton plays Will Graham, a retired FBI agent who formerly
specialised in the profiling of serial killers. He's persuaded to take on one more case by his
boss (Harvey Keitel) - two families have already been slaughtered by an unstable psychopath
(Ralph 'Mr Sunbeam' Fiennes, who should really think about doing a comedy or something -
although if the results are anything like The Avengers, maybe not) with another set of
killings due in a matter of days. As time ticks away Graham agrees to draw upon the
assistance of a brilliant forensic psychologist - the only drawback being that he's currently
incarcerated in a secure facility for the criminally insane, put there by Graham himself years
earlier...

It's hard to get past the idea that this is simply one last attempt to cash in on the
popularity of Anthony Hopkins' portrayal of Hannibal the Cannibal. Red Dragon is
the second film version of Thomas Harris' novel in sixteen years, the first being Michael
Mann's Manhunter (the two films actually share some of the same behind-the-camera
personnel), a clinically stylish thriller featuring Brian Cox as Lecktor (sic). Cox made a big
impression in what was a fairly small part, because Lecter is very much a marginal figure in
the story as written.

Red Dragon retells the story in an approximation of the style of Silence of the
Lambs - it makes much use of the iconography of Jonathan Demme's film, recreating
Lecter's cell, the image of him in the mask, and concludes with a pointless foreshadowing of
the 1991 movie¹. But above all it makes as much use as it possibly can of
Anthony Hopkins. This isn't very much, though, and it's one of the film's major problems.
When Lecter's not on the screen things often seem a bit dry, and you impatiently await his
next appearance - but when he does appear, Hopkins' startlingly camp and rather
over-the-top performance, while magnetic to watch and very funny, does seem rather
out-of-place in a movie that's trying to sell itself as a straightforward psychological
thriller.

Hopkins virtually steals the movie, and you get the impression he was heartily encouraged
to. But Fiennes is also very good in a complex role, as is Emily Watson as a girl he befriends.
(The two younger Brits seem to have modelled their performances on that of the great man,
inasmuch as none of them ever seems to blink, and the array of fixed, glassy eyeballs rather
reminded me of The Muppet Show). Norton spends rather too long talking to himself
and wandering around crime scenes to be really engaging as the hero, and Keitel's part is
horribly underwritten and two-dimensional. It falls to Philip Seymour Hoffman to keep the
US end up with a nice turn as a sleazy reporter.

The plot is quite engaging, though the climax seems a bit contrived and there are a few
implausibility’s - about half way through Graham and Crawford make a mistake that has quite
horrific consequences, but no-one, not them, not their superiors, not even the media, seems
particularly bothered by this. But it's neither especially scary or suspenseful, and Ratner
seems a rather limited director - his main achievement is to keep a film with some very nasty
subject matter down to a box-office-friendly 15 certificate (fantastic actor though he is,
the most disturbing sight in the film is that of Hoffman in his y-fronts). Its finest moment by
some way is the opening, a piece of black, grand guignol comedy reminiscent of a Vincent
Price horror movie - but one that's over all too soon.

Actually, this has much more in common with the horror genre than that of the thriller.
Lecter is a fantastical figure, refined, aloof, fearsomely intelligent, his only weakness being
his dietary peculiarities. Is there really that much difference between him and the horror
icon for much of the last century, Dracula? I don't think so. Fiennes' character, on the other
hand, is depicted as almost superhumanly strong and resilient, deformed, haunted by an
abusive female relative, and drawn helplessly to a young blind girl: there are echoes there of
both Frankenstein's monster and Norman Bates (himself a split personality, a condition with
its own fantastical mirror in the form of the werewolf). These are old friends in new skins,
and a sign of where this movie is really rooted.

The other way in which this is a very traditional horror film is that in it, evil is presented
as being synonymous with sexual 'deviancy'. Norton must choose between traditional family
life and the twisted world of the serial killers for which he has such an uncomfortable
empathy, as embodied by Lecter - whose effete, preppy turn of phrase and double entendres
('I'd love to get you on my couch' he simpers to Graham at one point) mark him out as the
ultimate predatory gay, looking to either turn or destroy his happily married adversary.
Fiennes' character, on the other hand, specifically targets the traditional, nuclear family and
is portrayed as a shy, repressed mummy's boy (another vaguely unpleasant gay stereotype)
whose possible redemption comes in the form of a decent 'normal' relationship with a woman.
Did the film-makers intend to include this homophobic subtext in their movie? I don't know,
but it's not exactly deeply buried and I'm surprised it hasn't drawn more criticism.

Unpleasant or not, hackneyed or not, it's still the most interesting thing about Red
Dragon. This is a reasonable thriller, with some good performances, and I quite enjoyed
it (though I still think Manhunter is by far the better film). But as a film that's being
marketed and will be judged as an addition to the Lecter franchise, it's inevitably
disappointing. An entirely new outing for the doctor might have been a better idea - but as
Hopkins has announced himself retired from cannibalistic service; we'll never know.

Awix

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