“Contorno” presents an interesting question with regard to episodic television writing. To wit: how much does an absolutely killer final act compensate for an episode that otherwise doesn’t quite move the needle from the previous installment and only inches us forward, plot-wise, into the next? In beginning, to answer this question, let’s return as usual to Italian dining, in which the contorno is a side of vegetables or salad served alongside the main course. So is Bryan Fuller simply making us eat our vegetables here? That interpretation would fit the previous episode, too.
But if that is the case, then the closing scenes of this episode are one sweet gelato, a reward for the giant exposition salad we’ve been wolfing down for the past two weeks. It’s a little weird to start at the end here, but there is no denying the momentous nature of that reprise between Jack and Hannibal, one that perfectly mirrors and inverts their previous, much bloodier confrontation.
Hannibal doesn’t go to this particular well very often, but it makes a very worthwhile trip here: Laurence Fishburne is a towering hulk of a man. Really, he is. Jack is so physically imposing in these scenes. Just look at the first shot of his arrival, as he glowers up at Hannibal in the window, having witnessed his murder of Inspector Pazzi. (The shot is reversed at the end of the sequence, with Jack looking out the window at Hannibal as he flees.) The fight that proceeds is beautiful, one-sided, scored by one of the series’ most inspired musical cues to date, and is just generally a tremendous achievement. Certainly it is the high water mark of the season.
And yet it is not quite the end of this little European arc. The preamble to Red Dragon, which will (it is now all but certain) serve as the finale to this iteration of the Hannibal Lecter saga. Hannibal is bruised, beaten, and bloody, but he escapes, if only temporarily. Jack may have found him first, but Will and Alana are converging as well, despite their separate setbacks this episode.
In fact, I think the great strength of this episode is that, despite the absence of plot, it offers a few key images and conversations that bolster the series’ themes. There’s this recurring idea of reciprocity, which, of course, is the one word that may best describe the relationship between Hannibal and Will—really, between Hannibal and everyone else on the show. It’s all about how much he can do to them, how badly he can hurt them, and how much they’re capable of doing in return. Alana is the best example of this. I’m still not sold on her heel-turn into calculated villainy, but her single-minded attempt at vengeance, though foiled again by Hannibal, at least provides a clear explication of the theme. Also interesting is the way the show links her and Bedelia, through Alana’s careful explanation of how she discovered Bedelia and Hannibal through her weekly wine-and-gnocchi routine. There’s methodology to both women’s apparent madness.
Will is still the more interesting situation though, not least because Will is still the better-realized character. He and Chiyoh spend the episode on a train, engulfed in darkness, as they further contemplate Hannibal’s impact on each of their lives. Chiyoh’s purpose becomes clearer, as she seems to have gotten Will figured out: “If you don’t kill him, you’re afraid you’re going to become him.” There’s a strange symbiosis to their dynamic that, rightly, frightens Chiyoh. Enough so that she pushes him off the back of a moving train in the episode’s most jaw-dropping moment.
Not that Will is in any real danger. We have Red Dragon to get to, after all. And, more importantly, Will and Hannibal are inextricably, almost supernaturally linked. It should come as no surprise when our good friend, the murder stag, comes to Will’s side and nudges him awake (slash maybe back to life?).
But the thing I like best about this episode and the season so far is this recurring motif of the snail. “Contorno” delivers a new piece of knowledge (or, at least, new if you, like me, don’t know all that much about snails). They survive digestion. If you’re not convinced yet that our heroes are the snails in this story, you should be now. They’ve all been killed and “eaten” by Hannibal Lecter, without their knowledge; now they’ve survived the digestion, and each of them have become something else, something new, something different. That’s how they’ll catch him, at long last.
Stray Observations:
- There’s a beautiful early shot of Jack releasing Bella’s ashes. It seems odd to me that he decides to throw the ring away, too, though. Is that something people do? I suppose it fits the theme of rebirth/metamorphosis that we’re developing here.
- I love how they’ve repurposed the Hannibal source material with Inspector Pazzi, in a way that doesn’t suck so much and that serves the new version of the story they’re fashioning. I also really, really love how they retain the utterly silly depiction of Pazzi’s crack detective skills from the film, as he Googles a picture of Hannibal Lecter to determine that yes, indeed, that strange professor is Hannibal Lecter.
- I’m increasingly skeptical that there will be any real payoff to this business with Mason Verger and Alana, unless Verger will have some sort of role to play in the Red Dragon arc.
- Hannibal Renewal Watch: Amazon has passed, Netflix has passed, and the actors’ contracts have expired. This appears to be the end, my friends. Fortunately, The Silence of the Lambs is the Hannibal Lecter story least in need of rehabilitation.
Michael Wampler is a graduate of The College of New Jersey, where he completed both B.A. and M.A. degrees in English literature. He currently lives and works in Princeton, NJ while he shops around his debut novel and slowly picks away at his second. Favorite shows include Weeds, Lost, Hannibal and Mad Men (among many more). When not watching or writing about television, he enjoys reading, going for runs, and building his record collection.