Hannibal Review: “Primavera” (3×02)

After totally neglecting the cliffhanger ending of its second season, this week Hannibal brings us up to speed—at least somewhat—reacquainting us with Will Graham after what’s revealed to be a six month gap since that hellish night at Hannibal Lecter’s house. But first, “Primavera” takes us all the way back to that night, presenting the final moments of season two in the new context of this third season. At the time, it was a tragic crescendo, a cacophony of destruction raining down upon our heroes; now, the scene is framed as a tragic echo. Hannibal recalls the loss of the man who was his one, true friend. “Fate and circumstance have returned us to this moment,” Hannibal says, then and now. The stag lies dead, too. An ocean of blood spilling from it and drowning Will. The teacup shatters, again, only to reconstruct itself as Will awakens in hospital.

Yes, the first several minutes of “Primavera” are composed of scenes we’ve already seen, but the new context they are afforded in following “Antipasto” is invaluable. They’re also no less gorgeous than they were the first time around—with a monochromatic grey that is shot through with deep, red blood, spurting in geysers and flooding the frame around the characters. The teacup, shattering is such a vital, recurring image throughout the previous season, reassembles itself here once more. This suggests something of Will’s mental state and sets up the dream logic that dictates much of the episode to follow.

“Primavera” only slowly reveals its true nature. We should know better. After all, we are, by this point, more than familiar with Will Graham as an unreliable narrator. When a silhouette that might be Alana Bloom’s turns out instead to be that of Abigail Hobbs, it should be an obvious trick. And yet, somehow, it’s not. It helps that Abigail has cheated death on this show before; and the parallel of the relationship between Hannibal and Bedelia to that between Will and Abigail is intriguing enough to justify her giving death the slip one more time.

But as the episode unfolds, much of Will’s reality comes into question. “Primavera” plays out like some sort of lurid fever dream, chiefly concerned with putting Hannibal and Will’s relationship in new relief (in light of what each views as the betrayal of the other) and exploring the past that Hannibal has attempted to abandon, whether it’s his crimes of the distant past (as the historical Il Mostro) or his more recent abuses toward Will and company.

As with “Antipasto,” the very best thing about Hannibal this week is its utter indifference to the conventions of plot and narrative. In bucking what would be expected of the early season here, Hannibal presents an infinitely more exciting narrative instead. The show is doling out its familiar characters and rhythms only very slowly, and, for the most part, these have been abandoned or transformed beyond recognition. We are thrown one familiar bone, as Will investigates a murder committed by Hannibal Lecter, but rather than alongside Jack and Alana, he’s with Detective Pazzi and an imagined Abigail. We are robbed even of the pendulum swing that normally signals Will’s practiced use of his empathic abilities.

And then there is the extended finale sequence, which is a master class in visual storytelling. It begins with Will’s study of the corpse Hannibal has left for him. Is it a gift? A trail of breadcrumbs? A warning? Or, perhaps, as is often the case, it is at once all and none of these. What it becomes for Will is a nightmare revisited, as the stag that was slain is reborn, in gloriously grotesque fashion, before his eyes, and in a church, of all places. The effects work here is excellent, and the way the corpse bends and breaks itself is a horrifying sight for Will and the audience alike.

And so, with Moby Dick newly revealed to his Ahab, Will hunts through the catacombs beneath the church, certain that he has caught a glimpse of Hannibal, and that he is somewhere here, lurking in wait. This is, of course, a gorgeous sequence, but is also delightfully tense, even as it serves the sole purpose of marking time as the surviving cast slowly assembles in Italy to finally bring Hannibal to justice. What excellent camerawork throughout. Hannibal is nowhere, yet he is around each corner. And then he is there, looking for all the world like Bela Lugosi or Christopher Lee. He and Will have several near misses. In fact, they may be nowhere near each other, as the episode never feels more dreamlike than it does in this sequence, and Hannibal and Will each fade in and out of the murky shadow in tandem. Will’s whispered, “I forgive you,” so reminiscent of Bedelia’s still-stunning “I believe you,” may be whispered to thin air—though it certainly seems as though Hannibal is there to hear him, after all.

“Primavera” presents in may ways the first part of a long mystery narrative. The final manhunt for Hannibal Lecter, and it’s impossible, at this stage, to know what is real and what is not or who is real and who is not. Good and evil, like observation and participation, are obfuscated to the point of meaninglessness. In other words, we are right where Hannibal and Hannibal wants us to be.

Stray Observations:

• The show pretty unambiguously names Hannibal as the real-life serial killer Il Mostro, a tack that the novel and the film Hannibal (in deleted scenes) hinted at, as well.
• There is continued, overt discussion of religion in this episode. The idea of evil as the Devil-with-a-capital-D or, alternatively, of playing God, has always been on the fringes. Just last week, Abel Gideon called Hannibal the literal Devil.
• What an awful last year of life Abigail Hobbs lived, when you think about it.
• The title isn’t as structurally clever as “Antipasto”, which is disappointing—instead, it references Botticelli’s painting of the same name.