YAY WE GOT A RENEWAL!
Hannibal is my favorite show currently on television, and is probably in my top five favorite shows ever at this point. I’m glad NBC realized they had something really special here, and decided not to dick it over. Good job, NBC.
PREVIOUSLY: BIG OL’ TOWER OF PEOPLE; Will knows Abigail killed Nick Boyle; Will agrees to keep tending this secret garden; Hannibal is “worried” about Will and how Will is losing his mind.
A pretty Fiona Apple-looking girl with long brown hair pulls an SUV up to her isolated house in the woods. It’s nighttime. She hears a sound in the horror movie murder shed, and instead of flying back into the car and driving to some state that is way less shitty than Delaware, she just kind of goes OK LOL and walks into her house.
The girl whistles to her cute little bird when she gets inside, and we see that the shed door outside has been thrown wide open. This is the least of her problems, because her ceiling is leaking water from every part of it. She gets up out of her bed which is like a full mile and a half off the ground–seriously, guys, if you can fit under your bed, SO CAN A SERIAL KILLER. This is a good rule of thumb. If you insist on having a bed with a huge space underneath, it’s good practice to just keep a corpse under it to deter predators. I have three bodies stuffed under there, and I’ve never had a problem with hidden murderers!!
She goes up the stairs to her creepy ass fucking attic to see that the water problem is being caused by a pile of snow, which has come into her house through the HUGE-ASS HOLE IN HER CEILING THAT WAS CLEARLY MADE BY SOMEONE BREAKING AND PRYING UP THE BOARDS. Helpfully, the camera pans out to show us the human-prints in the snow on the roof. Instead of calling the cops, or lighting the house on fire and going to a friend’s place for
the night forever, she…nails up plastic sheeting and sets a bowl down to catch the snow.
Like…there’s a sympathy line for people in horror movies and she has most definitely crossed it already, BUT THEN SHE EXTRA CROSSES IT WHEN SHE SEES WATERY FOOTPRINTS TRACKED FROM THE HALLWAY INTO HER BEDROOM–WHEN SHE IS CLEARLY WEARING SLIPPERS–AND UNDERNEATH HER BED, AND THEN PROCEEDS TO WALK UP TO HER BED AND TRY TO SHINE A FLASHLIGHT UNDER IT.
HANNIBAL LECTER’S SEX OFFICE
“I can feel my nerves clicking like roller coaster cogs, pulling up to the inevitable long plunge.” Will says.
“We might need to work on this before you read it out loud to your creative writing class.” Hannibal answers.
I mean, he might have said that. It sounds like he says “Quick sounds, quickly ended,” but that seems weird.
“Abigail Hobbs ended Nicholas Boyle. Like a burst balloon.” He flashes to Abigail’s killing, and is distressed when he returns to the present. “She took a life.”
“You’ve taken a life.” Hannibal points out.
“Yeah. Yeah, so have you.”
Hannibal’s like IKR ISN’T IT GREAAAAT. He tells Will that Will isn’t grieving for Hobbs, or Nicholas Boyle, but for the fact that Abigail was trapped in a situation that ended with both her and Will killing people.
Will feels guilty that they lied for her, but Hannibal smooths that out. “We both know the unreality of taking a life. Of people who die because we have no other choice. We both know in those moments, they are not flesh–but light, and air, and color.”
Will smiles briefly, sadly. “Isn’t that what it is to be alive?”
“Do you feel alive, Will?”
Will says he feels like he’s fading. Hannibal asks if he’s experienced any more loss of time, or hallucinations. Will’s all “…sí.”
Hannibal tells Will to draw a clock, as a grounding and visualization exercise to test cognitive function. (I had to draw a clock when I got knocked out by a football once, and I drew it with the numbers going counter-clockwise. But it was established that my mild concussion didn’t cause that, and I am merely an idiot.)
Will annoyedly draws a normal clock, stating the time (7:16 PM), his name (Seymour Butts), and his location (URANUS LOL), and hands it back to Hannibal as Hannibal says “A simple reminder. A handle to reality for you to hold onto. And know you are alive.”
It’s intense. Hannibal smiles encouragingly. Everything is fucking horrifying.
WOLF TRAP, VIRGINIA
Will’s wearing his worst adorable outfit yet as he comes back to his house from fishing!
Will starts gutting a fish on his counter (RIGHT NEXT TO THE NEWSPAPERS INSTEAD OF ON THE NEWSPAPERS–WILL, SERIOUSLY), and pauses when about a gallon of blood comes pouring out of the fish. He stares at his reflection in the blood, and when we come back to his actual face, it’s smeared with blood, and he’s in Canadian Fiona Apple’s house, straddling Canadian Fiona Apple’s gurgling almost-corpse, holding the knife that Canadian Fiona Apple was killed with.
CFA clutches at his arms as he tears himself away from her, slipping in the ocean of blood that came out of her Glasgow-smiled face. He hyperventilates by the door, throwing the knife away, and hurls himself out into the hallway…where Crawford and the CSIs are staring at him.
Will washes all the blood off his hands in the kitchen sink, and Jack strolls in, looking extremely dapper (fabulous camel coat from last episode+gloves) but also extremely perturbed. He and Will glance awkwardly at each other, and Jack goes outside. Will finishes washing up and stares at his hands before following Jack out.
“What happened in there?” Jack asks.
“I got confused.”
“I’ve seen you confused, and I’ve seen you upset, but I’ve never seen you afraid like this.”
Will is dismissive of Jack’s attempts at concern. “I’m an old hand at fear. I can manage this one, I just got disoriented–I can go back in.”
Jack doesn’t believe him at all. He asks what made Will go mute, and Will says the fear helps him see more clearly, it just doesn’t let him verbally express what he sees as anything but a series of high-pitched screams. Sort of like me when I try to explain this show to people. Will, apparently, briefly thought he killed this victim.
Jack reminds him that he’s supposed to reconstruct the thinking of a killer, not think that he is a killer.
“I got lost in the reconstruction. Just for a second, just a blink.” Will answers irritably.
“I know you don’t like being the cause for concern, but I am officially concerned about you.” Jack says. !!!
Will is understandably annoyed by this, both because he does hate being the cause for concern and also because Jack is only now willing to acknowledge the problem. He comes down the steps to stand in front of Jack. “I thought the reason you had me seeing Dr. Lecter and not an FBI psychiatrist was so my mental wellbeing stays…unofficial.”
“I just want to be careful with you. We don’t want to break you here.” Jack says. “Is that what’s happening? Have I broken you?”
Jack walks away, leaving Will to be like “Hmmmmmmmmm, I don’t like…rude…people…I might want to…..eat their bodies??!?! Let me file this away for later.” probably.
Back inside the house, Will goes into the room to talk with Katz, Price, and Zeller.
“Her name was Beth Lebeau. She drowned in her own blood.” Zeller says as Will walks in.
“What she didn’t drown on is all over the floor, and under the bed.” Price adds. His hat is cute as fuck. “She was trying to hide from them.”
“He dragged her there. He was waiting under the bed for her.” Will corrects.
“She fought to claw her way out.” says Katz, putting what is probably torn-out fingernails into an evidence container. Will says it was someone who loved/cared about Beth Lebeau, and Jack says they’ll check out boyfriends, exes, coworkers, and the guy who bags her groceries. Hey, Dave’s a nice dude once you get past the eyelid tattoos.
Price announces he got a set of clean prints on the knife. “I assume they’re yours?” he asks Will. Will confirms this and apologizes.
Price says that there’s dermal tissue on the handle as well, but it’s so damaged/diseased that there are no usable prints. Katz finds tissue piled under Beth Lebeau’s nails from scratching her killer, but she “never drew blood.” Zeller notes that after the face slashing happened, the killer tried to peel up the skin.
“Like he was removing a mask?” Will asks.
HANNIBAL LECTER’S SEX OFFICE
“I still have the coppery smell of blood on my hands.” Will says, pacing around as Hannibal sits on the edge of his desk and judges his poeticism.
Will is nervous, pacing a bit as he tells Hannibal he very clearly felt himself killing Beth Lebeau. He knows, logically, that he didn’t do it, but he’s gotten so far into this killer that he saw his reflection and didn’t even register it as himself. Will leans exhaustedly against the ladder–Hannibal, sensing an opportunity for some gently predatory psychospatial manipulation bullshit, gets into Will’s space very quickly.
Will pushes his whole body further back into the ladder. I think this is one of those little signs that he knows something’s wrong and off about Hannibal, but he only knows it subconsciously and thus only reacts to it physically. That, or he knows he’s being cornered. He seems to force himself to exhale and relax more. :( :( :(
“You have to honestly confront your limitations with what you do, and how it affects you.” Hannibal says.
“If by limitations you mean the difference between sanity and insanity, I don’t accept that.”
“What do you accept?”
“I know what kind of crazy I am, and this isn’t that kind of crazy. This could be seizures, this could be a tumor. A blood clot.”
Hannibal, looking like it’s a TERRIBLE BURDEN for him, says he can recommend a neurologist for Will, but if the problem isn’t neurological, Will has to accept that it’s a mental illness.
Will’s like “Nooooo, a mental illness, however shall I cope. Asshole.”
NOBLE HILLS HEALTH CARE CENTER, BALTIMORE, MARYLAND
“You’re in very good hands. Dr. Lecter here is one of the sanest men I know.” Dr. Sutcliffe says, patting Hannibal on the back. Is this DRAMATIC IRONY I SMELL? (yes)
“I would agree.” Hannibal says, smiling fondly. “Dr. Sutcliffe and I were residents together at Hopkins.”
Dr. Sutcliffe: “Another life ago. Back when you weren’t afraid to get your hands a little dirty.”
“I was always drawn to how the mind works. I found it much more dynamic than how the brain works.” Hannibal says.
“The projected image is more interesting than the projector. Until, of course, the projector breaks down.” Sutcliffe answers.
Will is super not interested in any of this camaraderie.
Sutcliffe asks Will when his headaches started, and Will says that it was 2-3 months ago. “About the time Will went back into the field. Which is when I met him.” Hannibal adds. !!! Will probably has fucking Creutzfeldt-Jakob from eating all that dude sausage you gave him.
I MEAN SAUSAGE MADE OF DUDES I DON’T THINK PRION DISEASES CAN BE TRANSMITTED VIA DICK.
Sutcliffe asks about the hallucinations, and Will says he isn’t sure when they started. “I just slowly became aware that I might not be dreaming.” he says. Sutcliffe looks over at Hannibal. Hannibal’s just like “yeah idk.”
In all seriousness, I enjoy that he looks vulnerable and half-naked in a way that goes past “Oh, Hugh Dancy is really fucking cute and I kind of want to gnaw on his legs.” It’s just one of the many ways in which this show is subverting the absolute shit out of what we expect from male leads. Think of another hero we’ve seen portrayed this way. Think of another hero’s thighs we’ve seen outside of the context of manfully banging a lady. The only other male lead I can think of whose emotional, physical, and psychological vulnerability were a focal point of the series is John fucking Crichton, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Farscape is my favorite show of all time.
Will lies back and gets stuffed into the MRI machine while Hannibal and Sutcliffe discuss him in the observation room. “It’s encephalitis.” Hannibal says.
I’ve worked out what’s wrong with Will, using my extensive medical knowledge (my dad is an RN and I have read several paragraphs from many of his textbooks from 1993):
–>encephalitis can be caused by herpes
–>will only started having problems when he met hannibal
–>hannibal has probably got the herp
–>i have been waiting to make an encephalitis/herpes joke for three weeks and it’s clearly not working out. but i’m gonna leave it in anyway, because fuck it, family guy‘s still on the air. i can have this.
–>”hello, i’m hannibal lecter, and i have genital herpes. but i don’t let it slow me down.” /montage of murder “valtrex helps me maintain a normal lifestyle.” /montage of cooking “herpes doesn’t control me anymore.” /hannibal and will sit in outdoor bathtubs on a hill watching the sunset
Hannibal tells Sutcliffe that he smelled the encephalitis, and Sutcliffe is like “You went from calling out a nurse’s perfume to diagnosing autoimmune disease?” It’s called hyperosmia and they had to have covered it in neurology school, smartypants.
“He started sleepwalking, and I noticed a very specific scent.” Hannibal explains.
“And what exactly does encephalitis smell like?” Sutcliffe asks.
“It has heat. A fevered sweetness.” Hannibal says. Like a Diet Coke left out in the sun. Like a pudding cup put in the microwave for 56 seconds.
Sutcliffe asks why Hannibal didn’t tell Will. Hannibal’s like “Haha oh shit.” and makes up some nonsense about wanting to be sure. He shows Sutcliffe Will’s clock drawing, and tentatively gushes about how super awesome it is to be able to completely stomp all over the Hippocratic Oath and watch someone’s psychological deterioration in real time.
Sutcliffe’s like “Nah man, it’s even more awesome to watch their NEUROLOGICAL deterioration in real time. PRIMUM NON NOCERE MORE LIKE FUCK YOU ETHICS I’M GONNA HELP RUIN A GUY FOR SOMETHING I WON’T EVEN BE ABLE TO WRITE A PAPER ON BECAUSE IT IS LITERALLY ILLEGAL.”
This is legitimately terrifying, because it could happen. Most people make it through their lives without being eaten, but doctors are mostly goddamn assholes. REAL LIFE IS SCARY. ALWAYS GET A SECOND OPINION, AND A THIRD IF IT’S FEASIBLE.
Haha, I wish the intercom had been on the whole time in the MRI room. Unfortunately, it was not, and Will vworps into the machine and also into his mind palace. He is underneath Beth Lebeau’s bed, waiting for her–he grabs her and drags her down to him, and lies contentedly next to her mutilated corpse when he’s done. Inside the machine, Will flashes briefly through the murderers he’s been so far.
The results of the test show that Will is alllll fucked up. Half of his brain scan is bright red.
“The right side of his brain is completely inflamed. It’s anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis. The symptoms are only going to get worse.” Sutcliffe says, slightly awed. I might also test for tumor markers just to be safe? But I’m not a trained doctor. Just a hobbyist.
“I know. It’s unfortunate for Will.” Hannibal says. Holy fucking shit I hate him so much right now.
Sutcliffe is like “What do you smell on me?”
Hannibal says “Opportunity. Future herpes, if you’re down.”
Later, when Will comes in to get his results, a perfectly healthy brain scan is on the screen and Sutcliffe tells him he’s fine, neurologically. Fuck yooooou.
Will, sad as hell, says “So what I’m experiencing is psychological.”
“Brain scans can’t diagnose mental disorders. They can only rule out medical illnesses, like a tumor–which can have similar symptoms.”
Will sad-puppys, and Sutcliffe says they’ll run more tests, but he thinks they’ll be inconclusive.
HANNIBAL LECTER’S SEX OFFICE
Jack and Hannibal sit in front of the fireplace, drinking brandy like a couple of classy assholes. Hannibal says that Jack knew what was going to happen when he pulled Will out of the classroom.
Jack halfheartedly defends his decision. “I had eight college girls dead in Minnesota, and Will caught their killer for me.”
“He also caught that killer’s disease. He can’t stop thinking about what it is to take a life.”
“Well, I’d rather he go a little mad than other innocents lose their lives, and I think he would feel the same way.”
“Will is an innocent.”
Jack sighs. “Yes, he is. I mean, Will is genuine. He’ll survive anything I can put him through. He will always fight his way back from himself.”
“Not always, so far. He saw a neurologist yesterday. They found nothing wrong with him, he was very upset by that.”
“You’re saying he wanted something to be wrong?”
“I think he wanted an answer that wasn’t mental illness.”
“You think he’s mentally ill.”
“The problem Will has is too many mirror neurons. Our heads are filled with them when we are children. They’re supposed to help us socialize and then melt away. But Will held onto his, which makes knowing who he is a challenge. When you take him to a crime scene, Jack, the very air has screams smeared on it. In those places, he doesn’t just reflect. He absorbs.”
Haha, I didn’t mean to put in that whole conversation verbatim, but it’s such a good indicator of the different reasons Jack and Hannibal are dicking Will over–Jack for the greater good, and because Will won’t leave of his own volition. (Hannibal just because he likes to fuck with things and see what happens, and also because the more unstable and off-balance Will is, the less likely Hannibal is to get caught. See, the normal way to not get caught is to not befriend the only person who could possibly catch you, but Hannibal is not quite as smart as he thinks he is.)
Will goes to Beth Lebeau’s house in the middle of the night, presumably without having told anyone where he was going. During every episode where Will goes out of his way to end up in a creepy situation, I’m like “Will Graham, this is the whitest thing you’ve ever done.” But this one probably takes the cake.
Will wanders through the house until he gets to Beth’s room. He looks at his watch. “It’s 10:36. I’m in Greenwood, Delaware. My name is Will Graham.”
He shines his flashlight under the bed, where this is waiting for him:
Will, instead of running away with an unending river of pee flowing gracefully behind him, kneels down to try and get closer. The girl flips the whole bed over onto him and runs. Will tries to grab her arm, but her skin degloves from the elbow down, and Will is left holding it.
Degloving is the worst. Let me tell you about the time I found a dead dog (or coyote) in our cows’ drinking pond and tried to pull it out of the water. Actually, I will not tell you about that, because it was very bad. I didn’t know the word “degloving” at the time, so I spent about 40 minutes after I managed to get the animal out cursing the foul god that allowed this to happen and screaming stuff like “SKIN AND HAIR CAME BUT BODY STAYED. I WILL NEVER BE CLEAN AGAIN.”
Will ends up suddenly in the woods, having lost almost three hours. He shakily says “It’s 1:17 in the morning. I’m in Greenwood, Delaware. My name is Will Graham. And you’re alive. If you can hear me, you’re alive!”
STILL GREENWOOD, DELAWARE
Beth Lebeau’s house is actually pretty cute, if you ignore how it’s in the middle of the woods in Delaware.
Will comes back into Beth’s room with Katz in tow. “Why did you call me?” she asks. “Why not Jack? Why not the police?”
“I called you because I’m not entirely sure what I saw was real.”
“Then let’s prove it.” Katz says firmly. FAAAAAAVORITE. It’s good to have a friend you can call at 1:17 AM who will not only drive to Delaware to help you out with some creepy shit, but actually CAN help you out with said creepy shit. I am not that friend. I mean, if a bro was in trouble I would definitely go, but I wouldn’t do well in a horror-type situation. If I couldn’t just run or stab my way out, my instinct would be to sit in a corner and angrily livetweet the whole situation.
@allighater 5m ugh fuck this bullshit it’s dark i’m hungry where are my friends
@allighater 4m great just tried going out the front door and it leads back into the attic
@allighater 3m who the fuck even has this many mannequins
@allighater 3m uuuugh something’s moaning in the walls hello AWKWARD
@allighater 2m was that a cat or a serial killer who the christ knows
@allighater 1m cat
@allighater 14s NOPE SERIAL KILLER
@allighater 1s dfkporijrgiojsd;s;adklfjd;kjllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
Katz is way more useful. Will tells her he pulled the arm skin off. Katz asks what he did with it, and we cut to 3 hours of Will running through the woods and sobbing before he tells Katz he can’t remember. Katz says the lack of circulation might be from staph or leprosy (WILL, GO WASH YOUR FUCKING HANDS). Will adds that her eyes were discolored, she was malnourished, her liver was failing, and she was deranged.
“So she mutilated a woman’s face because she thought it was a mask.” Katz says.
“She can’t see faces.” Will tells himself/Katz. He says she might not even realize she did it. Katz asked why she came back.
“To convince herself she didn’t.” Will answers.
“Is that why you came back?” Katz asks.
Will looks at her very intently, and steps forward. Katz moves back away from him slightly, clearly prepared to bust his head open with her flashlight if it comes to that. LIKE I SAID: BEST FRIEND EVER.
“If I wasn’t clear on that issue…I know I didn’t kill Beth Lebeau. I just want to know who did.” Will says.
“Me too. You’re the subject of a lot of speculation at the Bureau.” Katz says.
Will asks what they’re speculating. They’re speculating that Jack pushed Will up to the edge, and now Will’s trying to push himself over.
“This killer can’t accept her reality. I can occasionally identify with that. That said, I feel relatively sane.” Will promises. Katz is still like, whatever buddy. Then presumably they skip arm-in-arm through the woods together, looking for some stray arm skin and talking about their feelings. (Maybe kissing. Hopefully kissing.)
HANNIBAL LECTER’S SEX OFFICE
Will draws another clock. It’s even worse than the first one.
“I feel like I’m seeing a ghost.” he says. He’s sitting in Hannibal’s chair at his desk while Hannibal moves around, organizing things. It’s interesting, particularly in the context of how important people’s spaces (and the way other characters move around in them) are in this show.
“Regarding this killer or yourself?” Hannibal asks.
“She’s real. You know she’s real, there’s evidence.” I hope they found the armskin and Will had just left it in his pocket by accident. “When you found her, your sanity did not leave you.”
“You lost time again?” Will blinks in the affirmative.
Hannibal asks if Will would like to discuss the results of his test, but Will isn’t interested. Hannibal asks if he could run some tests of his own.
“You wouldn’t publish anything about me, would you, Dr. Lecter?” Will asks.
Hannibal answers that he would, if he thought that there would be some therapeutic value to others, but that he would abstract it enough that nobody would know it was about Will. Will says “Do me a favor, and publish it posthumously.”
Hannibal smiles slightly. “After your death, or mine?”
“Whichever comes first.”
Hannibal changes the subject. “Have you considered Cotard syndrome?”
“It’s a delusional disorder in which the sufferer believes he or she is dead.”
Will’s like “…wait wtf are you talking about me?” Hannibal is not. They discuss how Cotard’s delusion includes an inability to recognize or attach an emotional response to faces. The killer tried to reach out to Beth Lebeau, but could no longer trust her due to her delusions, and became violent.
“She can’t trust anything, or anyone she knew to be trustworthy. Her mental illness won’t let her.” Hannibal doesn’t add “You mentally ill little crazypants,” but Will seems to realize it’s implied.
WOLF TRAP, VIRGINIA
Will shivers and sweats in his sleep, curled in on himself. The killer lurks outside his window.
It is two fucking hours from Greenwood to Wolf Trap. I can’t get myself to walk to the mailbox sometimes. How did she follow him home?
Hey, it’s a picture of Ellen Muth! Playing a character called Georgia, who thinks she’s dead! Welcome to the Fullerverse, where what’s cool on one show is terrible and devastating on another show.
Jack and Will are meeting with Georgia’s mom. She tells them that Georgia and Beth were best friends in school, until Georgia had to stop going to school. They discuss Georgia’s medical history–at nine years old, she told her mom she wanted to kill her, and she was already dead. The main symptoms were hallucinations and psychotic depression, and there was nothing that doctors could do for her except “manage expectations.” This actress is really good, and I’m suddenly super sad for everyone involved.
JACK’S OFFICE, QUANTICO
Jack stares into he middle distance until Will comes in and asks if he’s managing his expectations.
Jack admits to Will that he thought about leaving after he got Miriam killed, because he felt so responsible for putting her, a trainee agent, in the field with an okay to break rules and go around the law–and he feels like he’s putting Will in the same situation, too. “I pulled her out of a classroom, like I pulled you out of a classroom.”
“She was a student. I’m a teacher.” Will argues.
“I’m still just as responsible for you as I was for her.”
Will rolls his eyes. “I’ll take my own responsibility–”
“Not from me, you won’t. We can do it together.” He says he’s breaking the rules with Will.
“By letting an unstable agent do field work?”
“Special agent.” Will rolls his eyes again. “You represent the FBI. You still represent me.”
Will is suddenly furious. “Have I misrepresented you, Jack?”
“No, no. But you have me curious. Why are you still here when we both know that this is bad for you?”
Will’s still angry. “Do you want me to quit?”
“No. No, you had an opportunity to quit, but you didn’t take it.” Jack says he thinks the work Will does keeps him stable in some way. “Stability is good for you, Will.”
Will takes his glasses off, and he almost makes eye contact with Jack. “Stability requires strong foundations, Jack, my moorings are built on sand.”
“I’m not sand. I am bedrock. When you doubt yourself, you don’t have to doubt me, too.” Will stares after him when Jack turns away. Oh my god, this scene was so good. Jack is, at his core, good. He is bedrock. He’d be a fantastic fucking anchor for literally anyone except Will, because Will spends so much time in other people’s houses that there’s no way for him to ever build his own, even on a foundation as solid as Jack Crawford. Which is a tragedy.
HANNIBAL LECTER’S SEX HOUSE
“The jamón Ibérico.” Hannibal says, slicing paper-thin layers of meat off of a giant pig leg. All right, there’s no fucking way this is people.
“Still love your little rare treats, don’t you, Hannibal? The more expensive and difficult to obtain, the better.” Sutcliffe says.
“It’s a distinction that adds an expectation of quality.”
“Not always.” God, I hate this dude. I also get the feeling they banged in med school or something, who knows.
Goddammit that food/table looks good.
Hannibal explains exactly how rare the Ibérico pigs are, and how the work and care that goes into them makes them automatically superior. Sutcliffe says that’s irrelevant, because superiority must be subjective to the person experiencing the ham. I’m like, shut the fuck up you toolbags, I ate Oreos for dinner last night.
“So we know how Ibérico gets his pigs…how did you get yours?” Sutcliffe asks.
“Are you referring to Will Graham?”
“You know you’re fond of the rarified. What makes him so rare?”
“Will has a remarkably vivid imagination. Beautiful. Pure empathy. Nothing he can’t understand, and that terrifies him.”
Sutcliffe looks like he might have the first inkling of guilt about fucking Will over like this. “So you set his mind on fire.”
“Imagination is an interesting accelerant for a fever.”
“So. How far does this go? Do you put out the fire, or do you let him burn?”
“Will is my friend. We will put out the fire, when it’s necessary.”
LITERALLY I AM GOING TO FIGHT YOU WITH MY FISTS, HANNIBAL LECTER. He’s the worst.
“He has asked for more tests.”
“Now that we’ve confirmed what it is, it will be easier to hide from him.”
HOSPITAL OF LIES
Sutcliffe puts Will into the MRI machine again, telling him it’ll be over before he knows it. Oh, he must be having an attack of conscience and is going to tell Will what’s happening without Hannibal knowing! I SURE HOPE NOTHING TERRIBLE HAPPENS TO HIM.
When the machine is done, Will is alone. He wanders around the darkened hospital, looking for Sutcliffe. He doesn’t find him in the observation room, and gets dressed again. As he’s walking down the hallway, he notices that the door handle to Sutcliffe’s office is covered in blood. Instead of not going into the office and calling the police, he immediately goes into the office. He opens the door with his jacket, because he is more interested in preserving the crime scene than his own life. WILL GRAHAM, EVERYBODY!
“Dr. Sutcliffe?” Will asks as he steps into the office, wherein Dr. Sutcliffe looks like this:
Apparently, this was the first time Hugh Dancy ever NOPED at a death on the show. Aaaw.
Later, the FBI has arrived. Katz runs her blacklight over Will and confirms that he has no blood on him whatsoever. “You’re clean.” she says.
“I don’t feel clean.” Will answers miserably.
Jack asks what happened, and Will says what he knows–Sutcliffe put him in the machine, he got out of the machine, he found Sutcliffe’s body. Jack asks if there was any confusion, and Will says he wouldn’t know if there was.
“Georgia Madchen followed you here, and while you’re ticking away in the MRI, she does this to your doctor. Why him?” Jack asks.
“She can’t see faces, maybe she thought he was me.” Will answers.
“All right, while we’re at it, why you?”
“I don’t know. I have a habit of collecting strays. I told her–I tried to tell her–the night I saw her, I tried to tell her she was alive. Maybe she heard me. Maybe that hadn’t occurred to her in a while.”
WOLF TRAP, VIRGINIA
The dogs growl until Will wakes up. Well, the sweet white baby with the underbite does. The rest are kind of like “LOL.”
Will slowly looks under the bed, and when he sees Georgia, his first instinct is obviously to roll onto the floor where all of the danger is.
“I see you, Georgia. Think of who you are.” Will says, crawling slowly toward her. She looks frightened and confused. :(
“It’s midnight. You’re in Wolf Trap, Virginia. Your name is Georgia Madchen. You’re not alone. We are here together.” he tells her.
“Am I alive?” she whispers. She stretches her arm out, and Will touches her fingertips with his.
HOSPITAL ROOM OF I AM ACTUALLY WEIRDLY EMOTIONAL ABOUT GEORGIA
Will stares at Georgia where she lays in her giant cylinder.
HANNIBAL LECTER’S SEX OFFICE
Jack asks Hannibal if Georgia will heal, and Hannibal is confident that she will both physically and mentally. Hannibal says he’s more worried about Will, and Jack’s like “What about your bro?” Hannibal says he’s pretty bummed about that too, but Will is alive, so he’s more important.
Jack says he wants to ask Georgia some questions about Sutcliffe’s murder, and asks how much she’ll remember. Hannibal all “Haha, hopefully zero things.”
HOSPITAL OF LIES, FLASHBACK
Georgia walks into Sutcliffe’s office as Hannibal, in a plastic outfit, is fucking sawing Sutcliffe’s face open with a pair of scissors and breaking his jaw. How did Sutcliffe die? Beth Lebeau choked on her own blood, but Hannibal’s in the middle of cutting and it looks like Sutcliffe is already dead.
He turns back to Georgia when he smells her in the doorway, and there’s just a skullish blur where his face is. It’s creepy as shit.
Hannibal walks to her and hands her the scissors to get her DNA on them, and leaves her with the body. OMG I think she was just there to talk to Will. Also OMG I think she’d be able to pick Hannibal out of a lineup, even without seeing his face. OMG WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN.
+I was really emotionally attached to the killer for the first time in any episode, and I hope Georgia can come back somehow. I also had a lot of feelings about Will. And Jack. And none for Hannibal Lecter, bye.
+I can’t really even think of any more discussion questions.
+HERE’S A BORING ONE:
+This was probably my favorite episode so far. What’s yours?
+Oh oh I know!
+How would you do in a horror movie? Feel free to break it down by horror subgenres.
SEE YOU NEXT WEEK.