THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991)

Neha says

A whodunit meets horror meets psychological thriller- this three in one terrifying, faithful and unhurried adaptation of Thomas Harris’s bestselling novel of the same name reminds us that female action leads don’t have to be all about stilettos and silicon’s but can be cerebral with the grit and complexity of a Clarice Starling, an FBI trainee played by the beautifully haunted and well directed Jodie Foster. In the absence of special effects and splatter frenzy, the 1991 Silence of the Lambs has only two genuinely shocking sequences- one involving an autopsy of Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine), a manic serial killer’s latest victim and the other, more disturbing centerpiece has “Hannibal the Cannibal” Lecter (Anthony Hopkins) a psychiatrist turned psychopath, unleashing all that suggestive, pent up brutality on a bunch of cops as he masterminds a prison break.

Animals are a big motif of the film be it lambs (and hence the title), moths or even the more subtle one of a caged cobra that manifests itself in Anthony Hopkins’s portrayal of celluloid’s most memorable and chilling villain who may only have a 16 minute role but played with such animalistic fervor and precision that one can’t help but be hypnotized by Hopkins and his beady eyes, facial expressions and that slithering, controlled drawl with which he savors and enunciates Starling’s name “Clarice”. (Get the goose bumps just thinking about it!) With Buffalo Bill on a killing rampage, the FBI sends Clarice to visit Lecter in prison, hoping to extract an insight into Bill’s identity and modus operandi. But a role reversal ensues, as Lecter starts to psychoanalyze Clarice and a series of long winded and tense conversations, the crux around which the film revolves have Clarice opening up the pandora’s box to her childhood, her most cherished memories of her father and her regrets. While these moments of gripping question and answer liberate the two in different and drastic ways, it’s really the subtext that fascinates. The growing intimacy between the two hints at an unnerving sexual tension between hunter and haunted and that implication alone exposes the film to a prism of alternative interpretations one of which gives Clarice a far darker and sadistic streak. In contrast her unwavering vulnerability makes her an even more captivating case study. Credit to Demme that he handles this with both intelligence and a strange kind of sensitivity.

Winner of 5 Academy Awards including Best Picture, this horror masterpiece being the first of its kind to woo the jury members is essentially a slow, grinding, roller coaster descent into the hell of psychological disturbia that relies on alarming motivations and madness to steer the course; that is empowered by its cast and their calibre; that uses stark close-ups to unsettling effect; that has Demme reminding us of his own unique realistic style that heightens suspense and atmosphere. It’s not the best horror/thriller film out there, competing against the likes of Kubrick’s Shining and almost every other Alfred Hitchcock classic but it still even today after watching it a zillion times over leaves me with this sense of dread. I would never want to meet a guy like Lecter or Bill and that visceral reaction is enough of a reason for AFI to acknowledge the film’s impact and achievement.

Ira says

One thing is for certain, there isn’t much silence in this one and even if Hannibal Lector’s pulse stayed at 85 when he attacked a female nurse and ate her tongue, for the most part, (and that’s Demme’s genius), mine was racing, actually galloping ahead. Heart in mouth, knot in stomach, shoulders mildly tensed. And it starts right up at the front with the opening credits. Eerie music, that breathless, sweating run as Foster i.e. Agent Clarrrice (the single most deliciously frightening, hiss like name in FBI crime drama movie history?) completes a training course, bold lettering, and a gathering momentum lead up to the moment of revelation when she’s called out to, stopped, and asked to come in to meet a superior follow. The determined pace of her run, an extreme close-up of her resolute face, the FBI on the callers cap, and the ‘yes sir’ that follows, are enough to tell us all we need to know.

Demme is a master of blending powerful emotion with gripping storytelling. And THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, only one of 3 films to ever win an Academy in all major categories (i.e. Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, screenplay) haunts, holds and chills you to the bone. Yup, the kind of bone any of those psychopaths would’ve had for breakfast.

Gruesome imagery, gruesome acts, gruesome dialogues, and very gruesome characters fill Demme’s narrative which really combines a detective story with a more hard hitting, evocative, brutal psychological drama. And Anthony Hopkins’ Hannibal Lector, a monstrous cannibalistic serial killer and ex psychiatrist, steals, commands and just takes this one to a different level all together. The Silence of the Lambs would be the shrill, raving, silliness of the lambs if it wasn’t for Hopkins’ unforgettable performance, one that has already and will continue to go down in history. Lector himself is a character unlike one you’ve ever seen, a criminal mastermind who is the only clue to finding another deranged killer, a monster and a man you don’t want inside your head. As you discover the real time horrors of Buffalo Bill’s bizarre ongoing murders, motives, meanings and human emotion get blurred through the perspective of Lector, sitting calm, in control and absolutely insane, a man who is an expert in and a rebel of the very cause that can provide the answers to whom and what he is. And even though Hopkins screen time is a mere sixteen minutes, he is electric to watch, and Foster’s committed performance, unwavering even for a moment, with those piercing, unblinking blue eyes, inner strength and lurking fear, stands up to his particularly when they are on screen together.

The scene where they first meet, paralleled later by the scene where she goes to return his drawings are fantastic pieces of storytelling where Demme is in total control. The tension of their first encounter, built up through the darkly lit, deeper than deep, maximum security space where Foster is lead by Dr. Chilton (a snake like Anthony Heald), that stunning moment where they are both bathed in red in a mid shot when Chilton reveals the psychopathic, monstrous tendencies Lector is capable of as a warning to Clarice, to the revelation of an erect, frighteningly still Hopkins and the sheer force of that first meet where in a fiery, controlled atmosphere of closes, extreme closes, quick cuts and fabulous performances, he strips her down naked with the power of his eyes and the brilliance of a fantastically disturbed, but sharply analytical mind.

Peppered by Freudian overtones, psychological anagrams and literal ones, Academy Award winner, Ted Tally’s super screenplay plays out like a murder mystery, a complex human story and a riveting crime thriller all rolled into one and Demme’s storytelling forceful, alive and starkly real in its tone, despite its horrifying subject matter, stays with you long after. Great camera work, with a lot of closes and some notable aerial shots (remember the end of the scene where we learn what the title really means? Where Lector sits caged in a circular space in the centre of a large room, and takes Clarice back to the painful memories of her childhood? Shot with a fluid camera almost completely through thick iron bars, the scene ends with an overhead image of the room from above where barbed wire clouds the foreground, the cage forms the centre and Hopkins watches in silence from inside the bars. The image reiterating the complexity, the mystery, lack of clarity in knowing the truth and the way the relationships between doctor and patient, prisoner and investigator, and murderer and victim become blurred or reversed, as they often do in the film.)

Jonathan Demme’s films after all, are never easy. To watch or to digest and that’s just what he intends, Whether its Philadelphia, Beloved (based on Toni Morrison’s highly acclaimed, moving, powerful novel), The Truth About Charlie, or Rachel Getting Married, his fascination with human behavior, relationships and the complexities of truth, sex, and human impulses fester here as well. But this one wouldn’t be this one if it weren’t for the performances of Foster & Hopkins. While the supporting cast is strong, here is a movie where the 2 leads stand out, stand above and absolutely shine.

Rich, gripping, unsettling and an original horror movie going experience, Silence of the Lambs is up there with the likes of Exorcist, Halloween, The Shining, & Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte and even more memorable for its quietness and lingering, terrifying qualities. This one has a silence that is deafening, and not easy to resist. Somewhere about halfway through the film, as you watch two insect specialists use their bugs to play a game of chess you almost manage a weak smile at the innocence of it all. But we only have to find the moth in Buffalo Bill’s victims throat till we begin to understand that nothing in this one is innocent.