Thrill Me With Your Acumen: The Silence of the Lambs (repost)

What a perfect film! The Silence of the Lambs, 1991. 
Directed by Jonathan Demme, based on the novel by Thomas Harris.


"A young FBI cadet must confide in an incarcerated and manipulative killer to receive his help on catching another serial killer who skins his victims." (IMDB). 


This is suspense writing at its finest. Certainly it was directed well, acted well (there would not be a picture without Tony and Jody), scored well, and so on, and all that is great. But honestly, it's scary!--- the build ups are tense, intelligent, and are pretty damned terrifying; in the end, they do not disappoint. The film is filled with anticipation. When it's not showing us Clarice Starling having to fight her way through virtually every encounter by proving she can piss with the big boys, the film is leading us eerily down some hall, laying steps one at a time, and revealing just enough unpleasantness to keep us engrossed and on guard for whatever the monster (Multiple Miggs, Benjamin Raspael's head in a bottle, the carving-up of the lieutenants and subsequent manhunt, Jame Gumm's torturous basement, etc.) might be, and it's a new fright each time!

And what of Hannibal Lector? Because Clarice is made to trust him we somehow begin to trust him, too. But never forget that first image we got of him, standing there, erect, poised, and with an almost amiable grin. . . (shiver). He's smarter than any of us. And all the smelling? Seriously. There is something very intriguing about a bad guy ally; he obviously has little regard for human life to do what he did (and apparently is awfully hip to continue doing), but this connection with Clarice, her *special-ness* in winning it? Awesome.  

And at the risk of sounding like a film theorist, this film is also about knowing. Who knows what, who lets who in on what they know, and whether the knowledge is real. Clarice is sent in by Jack Crawford to talk to Lector, who knows things. Jack Crawford also knows things, but he needs what Lector knows, and he knows that Clarice will "stimulate" Lector. Clarice knows things, not about the case, but about death and sacrifice, her way of knowing isn't helpful to Jack Crawford but it piques the interest of Lector. Lector wants to know about Clarice. Jack Crawford depends on getting the Lector's knowledge, but Lector figures it out and feeds him garbage instead. Then, drawing on everything she's picked up, Clarice, the seemingly rookie know-nothing, busts it all open and saves the day.

I saw this in the theater, in March of 1991 with my cousin, Heidi, in Duluth. And I was terrified. I can watch it now without fear, but the moments that get me each time are the camera noises in the funeral parlor, the anticipation of what Lector plans to do to the two cops, and the night goggles at the end, showing the hand reaching out to touch Clarice.

Oscars galore: best actor (Hopkins), actress (Foster), director (Demme), writing/adapted screenplay (Ted Tally), and best picture. Right on. 

Thrill me with your Acumen: The Silence of the Lambs

What a perfect film!
Directed by Jonathan Demme, based on the novel by Thomas Harris.

This is suspense writing at its finest. Certainly it was directed well, acted well (there would not be a picture without Tony and Jody), scored well, and so on. But the build ups are tense, intelligent, and in the end, they do not disappoint. The film is filled with anticipation. When it's not showing us Clarice Starling having to fight her way through virtually every encounter by proving she can piss with the big boys, the film is leading us eerily down some hall, laying steps one at a time, and revealing just enough unpleasantness to keep us engrossed and on guard for whatever the monster (Multiple Miggs, Benjamin Raspael's head in a bottle, Jame Gumm's torturous basement, etc.) might be, and it's a new fright each time!

And what of Hannibal Lector? Because Clarice is made to trust him we somehow begin to trust him, too. But never forget that first image we got of him, standing there, erect, poised, and with an almost amiable grin. . . (shiver). He's smarter than any of us. And all the smelling? Seriously.

And at the risk of sounding like a film theorist, this film is also about knowing. Who knows what, who lets who in on what they know, and whether the knowledge is real. Clarice is sent in by Jack Crawford to talk to Lector, who knows things. Jack Crawford also knows things, but he wants to know what Lector knows, and he knows that Clarice will "stimulate" Lector. Clarice knows things, not about the case, but about death and sacrifice, her way of knowing isn't helpful to Jack Crawford but it piques the interest of Lector. Lector wants to know about Clarice. Jack Crawford depends on getting the Lector's knowledge, but Lector figures it out and feeds him garbage instead. Then, drawing on everything she's picked up, Clarice, the seemingly rookie know-nothing, busts it all open and saves the day.

I saw this in the theater, in March of 1991 with my cousin, Heidi, in Duluth. And I was terrified. I can watch it now without fear, but the moments that get me each time are the camera noises in the funeral parlor, the anticipation of what Lector plans to do to the two sergeants, and the night goggles at the end, showing the hand reaching out to touch Clarice.

If you see no other film on this list (despite it not being a horror film by definition), see this one. It's the smartest, scariest thing out there.

Actual Terror in the Aisles

1. The Silence of the Lambs

I saw this when it was on its first run in the year 1991 at the Miller Hill Mall Theater in Duluth. My cousin Heidi was 19, I was 14, and she took me. She had a look about her that was very much like Julia Roberts at the time, complete with a perfect spiral perm. My hair was mousy and hacked. That she was even hanging out with me made it the best day of my life, but going to what was rumored to be the scariest film ever made. . . it was the coolest.

I remember getting to the theater late, right as the girls (Clarice and Ardelia) were doing their jogging and already being wonderfully nervous. Imagine my delight and surprise when it DID turn out to be the scariest film I'd ever seen. . . between Benjamin Raspael, multiple Miggs, the skin suits, THE TWO COPS IN LECTOR'S PRIVATE CELL. . . holy Christ I didn't know what hit me. I was literally trembling in my seat for pretty much the entire thing. Something that happened then and each subsequent time I saw this was that severely uncomfortable feeling of claustrophobia when she's shut in that basement at the end when you know he's lurking around but she can't see anything. . . .it's just something that has always seemed so TOO realistic for me.

I do enjoy seeing the FBI sheet cake being cut at the end during Clarice's graduation. Incorporating food is a sure fire way to win me over every time.



2. Se7en

Cut to five years later, same mall, for the next film rumored to be the scariest thing ever made. This time I actually had to keep looking around me to make sure some damned JOHN DOE wasn't sitting right next to me with his gritty dark gray David Fincher creepiness. I walked out of there CERTAIN that Fincher was the most genius man alive and that HOT DAMN would he please make more and more films like this. Everyone else in the group (St. Scholastica nurses, mostly) hated it. I loved it. Still do.