"I'm shrinking."--Gina Torres
Thought I recognized Barnes Tobias from the cop out Apocalypse season of The Supernatural in the Fromage episode. Human enough still that this studio manufactured violence begins to take its toll, as if Dacy is our moral Mobius strip without a booth barrier, I have to back off from some of this, and I am dropping Kevin Bacon and his embodiment of Ryan Hardy, pondering my befuddled interrogative on why Hannibal kills his patient in this episode. Out of mercy? Because he seems conflicted in this teleplay, engaging in predatory measuring up against a rival, only beating Tobias to the punch because he could not protect Freddy?
Even if I wished, I simply do not have the time to read how Harris gave Lecter the interior rationalizations that Fuller paints on video.
Both The Following and Hannibal deploy a gaming theory, an inside wink, as it were, the former a parody on zealotry, the latter offering up more effective subversive suggestions on the nature of a cosmopolitan lifestyle. To what end I am not sure.
If we can see this as an unqualified endorsement, however, let me make NBC and Amazon happy: I do not know how long I can hold the line, but in that holding, I intend to buy every season of Hannibal.
The power of art. I am allowed a cliche in convalescence.
Oh, to pull a Prospero memory lapse, I did catch Little Man Tate, and believe I saw it before and must have forgotten. Another day.
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