Hannibal 1.11: Rôti


Hannibal airs Thursdays at 10pm on NBC

The name of this episode is really appropriate because my heart is actually roasting, just like Will’s horrible feverish traitor of a body, and Hannibal’s liar liar fucking pants that are on fire. ONLY TWO MORE EPISODES LEFT.

PREVIOUSLY: Dr. Chilton oozed everywhere; Eddie Izzard was emphatically NOT the Chesapeake Ripper; our (and Jack’s) sweet baby agent Miriam Lass got murdered/dismembered; Will and Alana got to first base the dugout; Will is just ALL fucked up with the brain inflamins; and Hannibal’s hiding it from him.


Have we discussed Hannibal’s goddamn indoor herb garden?!

look at this fucking thing

look at this fucking thing

“Someone who already doubts their own identity can be more susceptible to manipulation.” Hannibal says to Chilton, who follows him from the kitchen to the dining room. “Dr. Gideon is a psychopath. Psychopaths are narcissists, they rarely doubt who they are.” Hannibal finishes with a small laugh.

“I tried to appeal to his narcissism.” Chilton says.

“By convincing him he was the Chesapeake Ripper.” Hannibal adds.

Chilton laments that he wasn’t interested in common minds, and Hannibal’s like “FUCK DA SHEEPLE THE ONLY SHEEPLE I’M INTERESTED IN IS THE ONES IN THIS KUDAL CURRY, BATHED IN A CORIANDER-COCONUT CHILI SAUCE.”



I don’t even like tripe and that sounds amazing.

Chilton whines and complains about how his psychic driving of Dr. Gideon and the subsequent murder of a nurse is soooooooo hard for him. “You’re not the only psychiatrist accused by a patient of making them kill. Poke around a psychopath’s mind, you’re bound to get poked back.”

I hope you get poked back, Hannibal. By a knife. In your johnson.

Man, I suddenly feel like it’s really necessary to explain that I UNDERSTAND THAT MURDER AND CANNIBALISM ARE LEGALLY WORSE THAN MANIPULATING SOMEBODY. But look, guys: I work retail at a terrible place that I will not name but will say rhymes with “ballfart.” A ballfart in Florida. I want to murder rude people all the time, and sometimes I get really hungry! I can sympathize with that.

But I would never actively try to destroy the life of someone I liked, much less set them up to be murdered, which is like Hannibal’s third hobby after the culinary arts and being a dandy. That’s just bad manners, and highlights the essential hypocrisy that makes Hannibal a super shitty person. IT’S NOT YOUR JOB TO DEAL WITH THE GARBAGE, DUDE. You’re bad at it, anyway! Like, I pay you to take my trash and but sometimes you come into my house and take my goldfish instead. I like my goldfish. My goldfish could have been a really amazing FBI agent someday. Sob.

Chilton asks what Hannibal would do in his situation. “Deny everything.” Hannibal answers simply. Hannibal explains that psychic driving fails because the methods are too obvious, and once the subject realizes what you’re doing, they’re naturally going to buck against it.

“When Dr. Gideon began to suspect that he was being pushed…” Chilton begins.

“He pushed back. The subject must not be aware of any influence.” Hannibal says.




Here’s a cool blog post from designer Patti Podesta about the differences in Will and Hannibal’s houses/the aesthetics of their surroundings.

Will is lying in bed at 8:19 like a grandpa, but his sleep is fitful and literally full of avalanches, tidal waves, and watery horror. He looks out over a mass of icebergs at an expansive glacier across the sea when the glacier starts to crack and spit more ice into the water. He’s standing on the beach with the pile of bodies when a huge wave crashes down over everything. He wakes up gasping and sweaty, and looks over at his clock. It starts to melt (hola, Dalí! The persistence of Will’s memory is in question, so this is appropriate) into water, and suddenly everything melts into water when it pools beneath him on his bed. The water heats up, and Will’s entire thrashing body becomes liquid along with it.

He wakes up once again, also startling like two of his dogs. The rest continue sleeping peacefully.

what in the fuckin shit daddy we were trying to sleep

what in the fuckin shit daddy we were trying to sleep


Dr. Gideon is loaded into the transport van on the way to court.

“So, you get to dress up and I don’t? This might effect how well my testimony goes over with the judge.” Gideon says.

“Your testimony will speak for itself.” Chilton snaps, looking away.

Gideon says he forgives Chilton his trespasses, and Chilton’s like OH YEAH WHAT TRESPASSES ARE THOSE PUNK. Gideon blames him for the psychic driving that made him think he was the Ripper/made him kill the nurse, and is in fact suing him over it. Chilton’s all “Haha, I don’t even take responsibility for my own bullshit, how in the holy fuck am I gonna take responsibility for yours?” He has a point–it’s difficult to tell if the psychic driving was actually as significant a factor as Chilton thinks it is, because Eddie Izzard’s good but he plays stuff really close to the chest, and Gideon’s antisocial personality shows in his ability to seem very sane and charming.

“Dr. Gideon, you told me you were the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“Dr. Chilton, you told me I was the Chesapeake Ripper.”

I see these two have mastered the Lecter-Graham Psychiatric Method wherein you and your therapist just repeat shit back at each other for an hour. Gideon is going to use that as his defense, and when he tells Chilton as much, Chilton just sassy-faces and says “See you in court.” He waits until Gideon is in the transport van before going like “Shit. Your incompetence has screwed you ONCE AGAIN, Chilton!”

I've made a huge mistake.

I’ve made a huge mistake.



Have these mofos never heard of a police escort? Jesus. You’d think the FBI might have spared a town car and like two agents with guns for someone they’re publicly saying is the Chesapeake Ripper.

Inside the van is just an orderly and a guard, and they aren’t responding to Gideon’s attempts at conversation. “You married? You’re married. How long you married? That long? Regarding divorce–not that you’re getting one–just I can see the clock in your eyes. Word of advice, it’s easier just to kill ’em. Kill ’em, kill everyone at the table. Less paperwork. Worked for me! I’m doing okay! Your wife is probably fantastic. My wife? Horrible. Maybe I’m not supposed to be in a relationship. There’s people like that. [to the orderly] How do you keep those whites so clean? Always amazes me.”

I don’t know how they manage to not talk to him, I kinda love Gideon (but then I also wouldn’t volunteer to go in the back of the truck with him without like a cattle prod I could legally jab him with every 15 seconds, and if I was driving and heard people getting murdered in the back, I would definitely not STOP THE TRUCK AND OPEN THE BACK DOORS. Gideon can get out of handcuffs, but he’s not getting out of the back of that truck if someone doesn’t let him out. Stupid).

There’s close-up shots of the orderly’s white clothes blooming with blood, with a strange drum version of the show’s theme that sends us into the CREDITS (similar, aesthetically, and with the actual theme).


Will stares at the truck and goes into his mind palace. Unlike the last few episodes, everything turns golden again, and the little pendulum thing isn’t super degraded anymore–it’s a separation from his own mindset, and I think that’s because he’s getting into Gideon’s mind, as opposed to how he’s been falling into the Ripper’s mind just as a matter of course for several episodes now. He KNOWS Gideon isn’t the Ripper, so it’s easier to disassociate from that. I’m not sure, though, this is just a guess.

Why Did I Cap This Whatever I'm Gonna Put It In Volume 412

Why Did I Cap This Whatever I’m Gonna Put It In Volume 412

Will backs into the empty van, shuts his eyes, and wakes up with the security guard and the orderly. There should have been a warning like ALL YOU FILTHY PERVERTS WHO ARE INTO COMPETENT TAKEDOWNS PLEASE PREPARE YOURSELVES, WILL GRAHAM IS ABOUT TO DRAW SOME BLOOD.

“All I’d need is one hand free.” Will says, smiling. He then snaps his fucking thumb backward on the bench between his legs, receiving a punch to the face for his efforts. He slips the cuff off and hits the guard back, then punches the orderly in the face.

Well this has gone wrong in every direction it is possible to go wrong.

Well this has gone wrong in every direction it is possible to go wrong.

Wait, we found a new one!

Wait, we found a new one!

The training manual SAID "Lift the prisoner gently off of the bench and lay him on the ground like the sweet and sensual princess that he or she is," so YEAH MOTHERFUCKER WE'RE DOING SOMETHING RIGHT.

The training manual said “Lift the prisoner gently off of the bench and lay him on the ground like the sweet and sensual princess that he or she is,” so YEAH MOTHERFUCKER WE’RE DOING SOMETHING RIGHT.

It looks like Will and the orderly are laughing really hard at the guard's funny strangulation face!

It looks like Will and the orderly are laughing really hard at the guard’s funny head wound face!

Will annihilates the orderly and the guard, then leaps out of the van to get the driver. Will wakes up again, looking a little disoriented but not scared or upset. Jack, in his sweeeeeeet camel coat and hat, comes up to Will and asks “Does Abel Gideon still believe he’s the Chesapeake Ripper?”

“Abel Gideon is having a difference of opinion about who he is. The man who escaped from that van was not in the same state of mind when he did this.”

We see that the guards’ hearts and some other unidentifiable organs have been strung up on a tree like Christmas decorations, the rest of the bodies sitting underneath.

Katz says “He took a uniform, a police radio, two 9mm handguns, pepper spray, Taser, and handcuffs.” Everything you need for a party.

Price points out that there are even bows tied on some of the organs. Zeller’s like “OMG IT’S SO AWESOME.” Fuck I’m so mad that I agree with Fuckin Zeller THE ORNAMENTS ARE AWESOME.

Wait, I think the reason I hate him so much is that we’re the same person. :( So basically I’m a combination of Franklyn and FUCKIN ZELLER, with a splash of Hannibal’s desire to mercilessly slaughter people that mildly annoy him even once. No wonder I have no friends.

Baltimore PD found a foot trail in the woods, and Katz confirms that it’s headed back to Baltimore. Oops.


Chilton reads a book with a magnifying glass like a total asshole. Motherfucker, you’ve got government health insurance. Get some glasses and put them on your fucking face.

“I suppose this is my fault, too?” he bitches as Will and Alana walk in.

“You did dodge a bullet.” Will says. “Gideon’s escape forgoes a trial, and a very public humiliation for you.”

God, Alana’s face during this whole scene. It’s a change from the first scene with Chilton, where Will was the one who visibly had to restrain himself from dropkicking Chilton out a window. Now they both have to. Work together, guys! You can kick him twice as hard!

“And now you’re hosting a private one.” Chilton smarms. “Next you’ll be accusing me of arranging his escape.”

“No one’s making that accusation.” Alana lies.

“If we’re tossing around the blame, Dr. Bloom, you are due your fair share. You planted the idea that I was unethically manipulating Gideon.”

“Well, according to Gideon, you were.”

“After you told him I was. You thought I was manipulating Gideon? He was manipulating you.” UGH FUCK CHILTON I HATE YOU.

Alana says that Chilton pushed him, and Chilton argues that Gideon was grateful for his care, and gave informed consent to treat him. Chilton says that Gideon wasn’t insane when he killed his wife, but it was the murder itself that drove him to it. Chilton just reminded him that he was a serial killer. Will reminds Chilton that Gideon isn’t the Chesapeake Ripper, but that he thought he was due to Chilton’s methods.

Alana says that even if Gideon’s just confused about his identity, he’s going to kill again.

“I hope he does not, for your sake. I cannot imagine how you would sleep with that on your shoulders.” Chilton says. Will is quietly losing it over in the corner.

“How did you sleep when Gideon killed your nurse?” Alana counters angrily. ALANA THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU TWO IS THAT THIS DOESN’T BOTHER HIM, AND ALSO NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT. Will, sensing that Alana’s about to jump over the desk, rip Chilton’s head off his body, and present it to Will as a Hanukkah gift, crosses the room and puts a steadying (probably for him as much as for her) hand on her arm. Aaw.

“What does Gideon want?” Will asks.

“The last thing Abel Gideon said to me was that he intends to tell everyone that he is the Chesapeake Ripper.”

Alana's like "Hold my earrings" and Will's like "Okay as long as you promise to give me the dog that I can hear is trapped inside him afterward."

Alana’s like “Hold my earrings” and Will’s like “Okay as long as you promise to give me the dog that I can hear is trapped inside him afterward.”


Jack gives a bunch of agents who will probably not have anything to do with this case whatsoever after this scene the lowdown on Gideon–former transplant surgeon, claimed to be the Chesapeake Ripper, armed and dangerous.

Will is sweating in the back of the room, which is suddenly full of antlers instead of incidental FBI agents. Jack’s attention is completely on him as he speaks, like he’s talking about Will when he talks about how crazy and dangerous Gideon is.

He yells “What kind of crazy are you?” and “You will kill again!”


and now here's encephalitis with the willther.

and now here’s encephalitis with the willther.

Will comes back to himself again. Man, he breaks down really softly and unobtrusively. One time on a long car ride I woke up and didn’t realize where I was and, in a state of total panic, elbowed my brother in the mouth twice while flailing to get out of my seatbelt (he was also sleeping so it was funny. Probably not for my mom though.) Jack, talking to two agents, finally notices Will standing awkwardly in the back. He just kinda shakes his head. This is not what bedrock does, Jack. Bedrock doesn’t judge.


Will explains what he hallucinated at Quantico. “Thicket of antlers. All I heard was my heart. Dim, but–but fast. Like footsteps, fleeing into silence. I don’t know how to gauge who I am anymore. I don’t feel like myself. I feel like I’ve been gradually becoming different for a while. I just feel like somebody else.”

“What do you feel like?”

“I feel crazy.”

“That is what you fear most.”

“I fear not knowing who I am.” Will’s eyes are glistening.

No, I can’t do this. I quit. I’m moving to Tierra del Fuego to herd goats on horseback and I never want to see or have to recap Will Graham crying ever again. l8r bitches.

Okay I have just been informed that I can’t quit until–wait, what does this email say?–you may not leave until the moment that the flesh debt is repaid in kind, with the blood and body of the BELOVED to be consumed by the HOLLOWEST GOD, HE who lurks in the soft places behind the stars. Go finish recapping, idiot.


Will tries to pull himself together while Hannibal looks on impassively. “That’s what Abel Gideon’s afraid of, isn’t it? He’s like a blind man. Somebody got inside his head and moved all the furniture around.”

“I imagine Abel Gideon would want to find the Chesapeake Ripper, to gauge who he is. And who he isn’t.” Hannibal pauses. “Will. You have me as your gauge.”



Will, unfortunately, nods.


The BAU forensics lab has another Gideon victim, who has been given a partial transorbital lobotomy (only the fun part where you jam something into the eye socket, but, as Katz informs us, nothing was taken–just scrambled around a bit). Will half-listens, but he gets distracted by the water dripping out of the cadaver cubbyholes next to him, forming puddles on the floor. For a minute I was like “dude did u pee” but it seems he did not.

Will says that the brain scrambling happened because that’s what they did to him.

Jack asks who they are, and Will tells him it was every single psychiatrist, therapist, and PhD candidate who talked to Gideon. Jack’s like, ugh, make a list, and Will looks sicker than ever when he says Alana will be on it. Jack’s like OH HELL NO SHE YELLED AT ME THAT MEANS WE ARE FRIENDS FOREVER.

Bella saw the macaroni art he made for Alana the day before, thought fondly about the box in the attic full of macaroni art Jack kept giving her in Italy, and added some glitter to the one for Alana.

Will goes into Alana’s classroom as her students are leaving. Alana asks if Will his her armed escort, and Will’s like “No, you’ll have a real FBI agent, not a teacher with a temporary badge.”

“Too bad. It would have been fun to cozy up with your dogs in front of a space heater.” Alana answers.

“You don’t need protective custody to cozy up with my dogs.” Will says, the saddest ever. “Or me, for that matter. You just need a little more…stability, on my part.”


She touches his face, then frowns slightly. “You’re really warm.” she says.

“I tend to run hot.” he says. “Like 102 degrees. Like a dog. I am a dog. :( Now you know my secret.”

“They say stress raises body temperature.” he continues.

“Maybe you should take an aspirin.” Alana answers.

“Waaay ahead of you.” Will says, pulling a bottle of what might be aspirin but what also might be MDMA out of his pocket.


“Whatever happens to him has nothing to do with you.” Will answers.

“Gideon can’t be completely responsible for his actions if he was subjected to an outside influence.” Alana says.

“Like Chilton telling him he’s the Chesapeake Ripper?”

“Like me, telling him he’s not in the state of mind to know who he is.” ALANA NO.

Will sighs. “He’s gonna want somebody to tell him who he is, and I think he’ll want the Ripper to do that.” he says. Alana sits next to him on the desk.

this is my favorite dress so far

unrelated but this is my favorite dress so far

Alana asks what Will thinks would happen, and Will matter-of-factly says that the Ripper would kill him, because Gideon took credit for the Ripper’s work–and that’s “rude.”


Freddie gets a call as she gets into her car. It’s Dr. Paul Carruthers, who wrote a paper on Gideon about his narcissistic personality. Carruthers wants to meet. Carruthers is also very obviously Gideon not even bothering to change his voice. I secretly assume that Freddie knows that, she just kinda wants to see where this was going.


Gideon invites Freddie into the office whERE HE HAS DR. CARRUTHERS BEING DRAINED OF HIS BLOOD WHILE HIS TONGUE WIGGLES GENTLY OUT OF THE BOTTOM OF HIS NECK HAHA THIS IS SO FUCKING GROSSTACULAR. Gideon pets it and kinda flicks it a little bit until it stops moving.

It's called a Colombian Necktie but that feels kinda racist (and inaccurate, since I think it was a mafia thing first), so let's call it...a hung tongue.

It’s called a Colombian Necktie but that feels kinda racist (and inaccurate, since I think it was a mafia thing first), so let’s call it…a hung tongue.


The FBI has arrived. Jack explains who Carruthers is, and expresses the theory that this is about more than getting the Ripper’s attention.

“Gideon’s mind was dissected by psychiatrists. And as a surgeon, he is applying his own skill set.” Will says, then glares at the body. “Gave you something better to do with your tongue than wag it.” he snaps. Please file this under Lines Spoken By Hugh Dancy That Are Kinda Hot Out Of Context.

“No. That’s not how he died. Drained him, till his heart stopped.” Fuckin Zeller says.



Please note Katz’s Will Graham Face No. 2 in the background.

Katz notices that there’s no blood anywhere except what came out of the throat and landed on the collar, and Price is like “That’s because it’s all here. Four liters, packed in ice.” He picks up a note that says “Please deliver to the Red Cross.”

(Hannibal pops by all “More like red croissants. I’ll take it if nobody wants it.”)

“That’s considerate.” Katz mutters.

“He’s peacocking for the Ripper.” Jack says.

“Flowers and chocolate before a first date.” Will adds. He leans down and presses Carruthers’s finger down on his chair button (???), which turns on his laptop, which is open to tattlecrime.com.

Freddie's either a terrible speller or is trying to signal her distress. I like both options.

Freddie’s either a terrible speller or is trying to signal her distress. I like both options.

“How is this news already?” Jack asks.

“Someone at the Baltimore PD must have taken a picture with their phone and sold it to Tattlecrime.” Zeller says. Excuse me, princess, who was sleeping with Freddie Lounds and somehow managed to ACCIDENTALLY GIVE HER DETAILED INFORMATION ABOUT A CASE? (And also remember how she NEVER SAID IT WAS HIM THOUGH SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN WELL WITHIN HER RIGHTS TO DO SO? I hope she’s blackmailing the shit out of you, Fuckin Zeller.)

Jack notes that the photo on the website was taken before the blood was put on ice, which meant Gideon was still there.

“He has Freddie Lounds.” Will says. I can’t hear the italics this time, and his face looks more bummed out than murderous. He must really be sick!


Gideon warns Freddie that the emergency exits are all locked down, in case she was thinking about running. He tells her that their relationship could be mutually beneficial, and Freddie–my fucking champion–calmly plays directly along with him.

“I could write a big story on you.” she says. “Anything you wanna say.”

“I did enjoy the article you wrote about the poor nurse I killed. But it didn’t really seem like genuine Freddie Lounds.” Gideon answers.

“Jack Crawford told me to write it.”

“Of course he did.”

“To flush out the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“And flushed out he was. Why, he waved Jack Crawford’s dead trainee’s arm around his head, right here like a flag in this very room.”

“Aren’t you the Chesapeake Ripper?” Freddie asks innocently.

“Miss Lounds, I might be slightly fuzzy in this area, but there’s no need to patronize me.”

Freddie apologizes. Gideon says he feels like he’s remembering something from his childhood, but it’s all fuzzy, like it might be a friend’s memory instead, and actually it’s just “some photo in an old book.”

Freddie kens to the fact that he’s trying to draw out the Ripper, and says as much. Gideon’s like “Confirmative. Plus, we know he looooves your writing, so he’ll probably get it.”


Hannibal grouchily reads the Gideon story on his iPad. I can’t ever not laugh when I see that thing (mostly out of jealousy because I want one. I will literally fight Hannibal for it HE ONLY USES IT TO READ TATTLECRIME AND TAKE CREEPSHOTS OF WILL MOST LIKELY), and now is no different. [broods/plays with ipad] was the only direction for this scene.


Alana identifies a second tongue-hung body as a colleague of hers from a psych study done on Gideon two previous. She also says that Chilton is unreachable by phone and didn’t show up at work. Ruh roh.

The details of this murder are all exactly the same as Carruthers’s, except for one thing–one arm is missing. Will announces that Gideon didn’t kill this person, the Ripper did. It’s a message to Jack, telling him where to find Gideon.

Jack’s like “Uh what.”

Will grimaces and says “Where’s the last place you saw a severed arm?”

Jack hates his life some.


Chilton is, of course, in Gideon’s possession. He’s strapped to a table and sedated, and Gideon is wearing scrubs and sanitizing his hands. BECAUSE HE IS GONNA DO FUCKING SURGERY. He says he prefers a local anesthetic to general anesthesia because it helps remind him that there’s a person there, instead of a “lump of meat” he’s about to rearrange. Haha oh my god this is fucked. Chilton tries talking him out of it.

“You got inside my mind, Frederick. It’s only fair that I get inside your belly. This is of course Freddie Lounds, who you know. She will be assisting me today–or assisting you–by manually pumping the ventilator, should you stop breathing.”

Gideon slices Chilton’s abdomen open with a scalpel, calmly telling Chilton he’ll be leaving the Ripper a gift basket made of trophy organs.

"I swear to god, if this fucks up my hair somehow, I will surgically remove your LIFE."

“I swear to god, if this fucks up my hair somehow, I will surgically remove your LIFE.”

Freddie watches, tranquilly horrified, as Gideon unspools a little bit of intestine, then a kidney. I…didn’t think it was that easy, but okay. “It is truly amazing how many organs a body can offer up before it really begins to suffer.” Gideon shows Chilton his own kidney, then slaps him awake when he starts to lose consciousness, saying he’s gonna need Chilton to hold a few things. “Hm,” Gideon says, staring down into Chilton’s abdominal cavity. “What next?” SHRIEK.



“I want you to wait outside.” Jack says.

“That’s probably for the best.” Will answers. WHY EVEN BRING HIM THOUGH?

“You look like hell, Will.” Jack says, concerned and a little angry. Hey, Jack, it takes some work to look that artfully scruffled (pulling your sensible khaki pants up that high over your tucked-in flannel shirt can add like 15 minutes to your morning routine).

“I feel like hell.” Will answers. He is very damp. How can one apply to be the on-set Dancy Spritzer? Do you need a degree for that? I’ll work for free. I don’t give a shit. “Actually, now I feel…fluid. Like I’m spilling.”

“Yeah, dude, you are fucking up the upholstery in here really bad.” Jack answers.

“I must have come down with something. I hope it’s not contagious.” Will says. If it’s herpes it is.

“This work that we do–it will compromise your immune system, if you allow it. You’ve gotta keep things in perspective. You’ve gotta keep yourself in perspective.”

“Well, myself is a little hazy at the moment.”

“You’ve gotta start taking better care of yourself.” Jack says. Yeah a nap and some fuckin’ kombucha will clear that right up. I really want to see the inside of Will’s fridge though. It’s probably 500 containers of amazing dog food, one orange that has shrivelled into a walnut size/shape, and a butter tub full of live bait. His freezer has one meatball marinara Hot Pocket that Katz gave him and a bunch of fish parts.

“Build my resistance.” Will says sardonically.

“You can’t just take it all in.” Jack says. “You have to let go of as much of it as you can. You’ve gotta let go.”

“It’s hard to shake off something that’s already under your skin.” Will answers.

As expected, none of the FBI agents from the beginning are present at the observatory, just a SWAT team. Jack leaves Will in the car. We will ignore that he’s not wearing any protective gear and has limited his mobility by keeping the coat on and his visibility but putting on a hat at night because he looks so dang cool.

Has Laurence Fishburne ever played a film noir detective? He should. Forever.

Has Laurence Fishburne ever played a film noir detective? He should. Forever.

Will doesn’t stay in the car, just sort of tags along after all the other agents until he sees a deer off in the distance. It’s not the featherbutt dream deer, just a regular one who has come to watch the festivities, but Will dazedly follows it into the wintery woods anyway.

Jack orders everyone into the observatory, where my FUCKING WINNER Freddie is standing there and manually ventilating Chilton with no Gideon in sight. LET ME REPEAT THAT: NO GIDEON IN SIGHT.



Gideon left, and Freddie could have also left, but she decided to stay and fucking breathe for Chilton instead of abandoning him and leaving him to die. I mean, obviously, she probably should have been like “laters” because it’s Chilton. But she didn’t. She kept herself alive because she’s smart and she kept Chilton alive because she is not the actual Antichrist. Freddie Lounds is unethical, immoral, and kind of a bad person, but she will also apparently step up and save a life with no obligation on her end. That’s fascinating. That’s how you create a complex character.

Freddie says that Gideon’s gone and Chilton is still alive (his hands are arranged so that he’s holding his own organs). Jack yells for a medic, and is like “:/ can’t even blame it in you this time, Freddie.”

Outside the observatory, OBSERVING, is Gideon. In the backseat of Gideon’s car, HALLUCINATING AND POINTING A GUN AT GIDEON, is Will.

“I was expecting the Chesapeake Ripper. Or are you he?” Gideon asks.

“Turn around. Don’t look at me.” Will says. Please file this under Lines Spoken By Hugh Dancy That Are Kinda Hot Out Of Context Part 2.

In context, it’s not hot, because Will is seeing Gideon as Garrett Jacob Hobbs.

“You are looking a little peaky, Mr. Graham. If you don’t mind me saying. I maybe crazy, but you look ill.”

“Drive.” Will snaps.

“Who is your doctor?”






Hannibal wordlessly invites them in.

“I’m having a hard time thinking. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t know what’s real.” Will says, shakily. Gideon sits awkwardly at the dinner table.

Hannibal looks at his watch. “It’s 7:27 PM. You are in Baltimore, Maryland, and your name is Will Graham.”

“No, I don’t care who I am!” Will yells suddenly. He points his gun at Gideon. “Just tell me if he’s real.” Will is still seeing Hobbs, his vision shaky.

Hannibal asks who Will is seeing. “Garrett Jacob Hobbs.” Will answers. “Who do you see?”

Hannibal stares at Gideon for a moment. Gideon stares back. “I don’t see anyone.” Hannibal lies finally.

“No, he’s right there.” Will argues. He’s not seeing Hobbs anymore. He’s not seeing anyone. Hannibal maintains that there’s no one there.

“No, no, you’re lying.” Will says.

“We are alone. You came here alone. Do you remember coming here?”

Will loses it, completely, his voice cracking and high like a child’s. “No, please don’t lie to me!” he yells. I normally have a hard time imagining what crying out would sound like, but this–this is what it sounds like.

oh my fucking god

oh my fucking god

fuck it seriously you guys i don’t wanna be here anymore goodbye forever.

ugh, whatever, this other email was like “YOU WILL CONTINUE LEST WE CHOOSE YOUR WARM MEAT BODY FOR THE SUMMONING AND THE ETERNAL REBIRTH” and that sounds kinda shitty and ouch. mamas don’t let your babies grow up to write stuff on the internet for shadowy overlords from beyond time. >:(

“Garrett Jacob Hobbs is dead. You killed him. You watched him die.” Hannibal says calmly.

What’s happening to me?!” Will asks, fully sobbing, covering his face with his free hand.

“Will.” Hannibal says firmly, as Will shakes. “Will, you’re having an episode. I want you to hand me the gun.” Will’s hand falls, and his eyes are rolled back and he’s jerking and twitching. “Will, I want you to hand me–” Hannibal stops. “Will?”

Will is no longer functioning. Hannibal darts forward and grabs the gun, carefully hooking his finger through Will’s forefinger to keep it out of the trigger guard and off of the trigger. In addition to being a good way to keep Will from pulling the trigger accidentally, it is also a great callback (call-forward?) to the part in Silence of the Lambs where Lecter strokes a finger over Clarice’s when handing her a file. Also also, Mads Mikkelsen has giant hands.



also necessary, apparently.

also necessary, apparently. GIANT HANDS.

Hannibal puts the gun on the mantel and then examines Will, only letting go of his head/face when Will is shaking less.

“He’s had a mild seizure.” Hannibal tells Gideon.

“That…doesn’t seem to bother you.” Gideon answers, confused.

“I said it was mild.” Hannibal shoots back.

You didn’t quit being a medical doctor, you were fucking fired for being THE WORST ONE. (Not for leaving Will there. It’s better to do that than a lot of other things. Never try to restrain someone during a seizure and never put anything in their mouth. Get something soft to put under their head if they’re thrashing on the floor, flip them into the recovery position in case they vomit, but otherwise, there’s not a lot you can do until it’s over. My uncle is epileptic and my dad’s dog has seizures and they both really hate being touched or handled afterward, so be wary of that too).

“Are you the man who claimed to be the Chesapeake Ripper?”

“Why do you say claimed?” Gideon asks.

“Because you’re not. You know you’re not, and you don’t know much more about who you are beyond that.”

“Are you the Ripper?”

Hannibal answers obliquely. “Terrible thing, to have your identity taken from you.”

“Well, I’m taking it back. One piece at a time. You should see the pieces I got out of my psychiatrist.” THEY’RE STILL IN THERE, GIDEON, JUST BECAUSE YOU REARRANGE A BASKET OF DAISIES DOESN’T MEAN YOU TOOK DAISIES OUT.

“Alana Bloom was one of your psychiatrists, too. Is that right?”

“Yes, Doctor Bloom.”

“I can tell you where to find her.” Hannibal says. UGH. I want to strangle him and not even in the sexy way this time. Okay, a little bit in the sexy way. Like 17% in the sexy way. I know he doesn’t even want Alana dead, he’s just willing to risk it to ruin Will’s life some more.


Gideon’s gone by the time Will comes to.

Hannibal does the one-minute stroke test (repeat a simple sentence to check for slurred speech, raise both arms as high as possible to check for unevenness, and smile to check for drooping). It’s terrifying because Will makes this face when he smiles:

great googly moogly

great googly moogly

"Oh dear."

“Oh dear.”

Hannibal then gets into Will’s personal space, pushing him down into a chair and feeling all up on his forehead.

"It is as I suspected, Will. You are extremely hot. Also you have a fever."

“It is as I suspected, Will. You are extremely hot. Also you have a fever.”

(If Will was my dad’s dog, he would have leapt at Hannibal’s face with all his 30 pounds of fat beagle fury and bitten his nose off. Will should take a lesson from Dunkin Nonuts.)

“You may have had a seizure. Tell me the last thing you remember.” Hannibal says.

“I was with Garrett Jacob Hobbs.” Will says, looking back confusedly at Gideon’s empty chair.

Hannibal tells Will that he was hallucinating that Hobbs was alive and in the room with him. Will argues weakly that he saw him. Hannibal assures him that Hobbs was a delusion.

“You killed Garrett Jacob Hobbs once. You can find a way to kill him again.”

Hannibal gets his coat on, and Will asks where he’s going. Hannibal spins some shit about going to check on Alana, and Will’s like “I’m going too.” Hannibal sits him back down in the chair, very conspicuously leaving the keys and gun on the table, and says he’s going to go call Jack to tell him where Will is. Will takes the gun and keys and leaves. Hannibal comes back into the dining room when he hears the door slam, slips back out of his jacket, and is like “Finally, I can catch up on My Cat From Hell.


Haha, wait, does she live in the woods too? SHE FUCKING DOES. THIS IS AMAZING.

Will staggers through the snow toward Gideon. He raises his gun, but Gideon is in front of the window Alana’s in and his aim is shaky enough that he might hit her. He lowers the gun and approaches Gideon. They both watch Alana going through files in her fucking adorable cardigan.

“I don’t know if I will ever be myself again.” Gideon says to Will. He’s spent so long being the Ripper that he doesn’t know who he was before.

“Who are you now?” Will asks.

“Now I’m you.” Gideon says, his voice coming out of Hobbs’s mouth. “We’re both here, looking at her. Just those kind of people who shouldn’t be in a relationship. You and I are already committed. It’s hard to be with another person when you can’t get out of your own head.”

“I want to get out.” Will says.

“Yeah, well. We all want things we can’t have.”

Gideon contemplates whether killing Alana “like he would” could help him. Will stares at Gideon, trembling, before we cut away to Alana hearing a gunshot. She runs to the window JESUS FUCK DON’T EVER RUN TO THE WINDOW and heads outside DON’T DO THAT EITHER when she sees Will pass out facefirst into the snow next to Gideon’s bleeding body.




Jack and Will go HAM on some liquor together. Jack says “They’ll be sewing up Dr. Chilton until the morning, if he even makes it through the night.”

Hannibal’s like “LOL IDC. At least Will’s okay. His temperature is 105, white blood cell count is twice normal, and they still can’t identify the source of his infection.”

“They will.” Jack says.

“You seem confident.”

Jack points out that, even with a temperature of 105, Will still managed to bring Gideon down. I feel like this wouldn’t be as impressive if Jack knew what actually happened. Hannibal suggests that Will’s license to carry be suspended, and Jack’s like NO WAY.

Hannibal says he knows who Will is, and that Will knows who Will is, but “Our experiences shape us, Jack. Who knows how this experience is going to shape Will?”

Well, I imagine it’s gonna shape him BADLY because you are a ruiner, Hannibal.


Alana silently holds Will’s hand as he sleeps.


“Will Graham is troubled.” Hannibal lies.

“And that troubles you? Beyond a professional concern for a patient?”

“I see his madness and I want to contain it, like an oil spill.”

Bedelia says “Oil is valuable. What value does Will Graham’s madness have for you?”

“Are you suggesting I’m more fascinated with the madness than the man?” Well, she wasn’t, buddy, but now that you mention it.

“Are you?”


Bedelia’s like “Haha, you goddamn liar.”

“He realized early on that he saw things differently than other people.” Hannibal continues. “Felt things differently.”

“So did you.”

“I see myself in Will.” Yeah, I bet you do.

Bedelia asks if Hannibal sees himself in Will’s madness, and Hannibal goes off on a little tangent about how madness is a medicine for the modern world and how it can be a good thing, to help deal with normal life what the fuck are you even TALKING ABOUT HANNIBAL.

Bedelia points out that Will doesn’t present Hannibal with problems from normal life, and asks what Will does present him with.

"One time he put sparkle paint on one of his dogs' paws and let it walk on a piece of posterboard. Then he gave it to me. It's dirty and there's a bunch of hair on it. It's weird."

“One time he put sparkle paint on one of his dogs’ paws and let it walk on a piece of posterboard. Then he gave it to me. It’s dirty and there’s a bunch of hair on it. It’s weird.”

“The opportunity for friendship.” Hannibal answers.

Bedelia reminds him that Will is still his patient, and when Hannibal feels the impulse to step forward, Hannibal has to step back. Hannibal asks if he’s just supposed to let Will descend into madness, like he wasn’t gonna do that anyway.

“Sometimes all we can do is watch.” Bedelia says. “Do you have a picture of that dog art? Let me see that fucking thing.”



+Do you think Gideon is dead? I don’t want him to be, but I’m not sure how they could bring him back in a way that wasn’t like “Hey, look at Eddie Izzard again!” Which I’m totally fine with, BTW.

+Hannibal: the worst or the worster?

+Freddie: the best or THE BESTEST? [please note that it’s fine to disagree with me (while understanding that I acknowledge all the ways in which she is horrible, so being like “she’s amoral!” will just make me go “I KNOW RIGHT ISN’T IT GREAT?!”), but if you still hate Freddie I don’t actually care and am not gonna argue about it so skip this question lalalalalala]

+Did we already talk about stuff that scares you? We should talk about stuff that scares you. I haaate being touched without permission. Hate it. It startles me when I’m not expecting it and makes me uncomfortable when I am (and haven’t expressly been like OKAY IT IS FINE TO HUG ME or whatever). I can’t handle stuff that’s meant to represent people (statues I’m mostly okay with, but mannequins/dolls/dummies/lawn gnomes/etc. are so very not okay), face paint (clowns/mimes) (one time I was at Downtown Disney and I accidentally wandered into the Cirque du Soleil store while following my friends. They have mannequins in clown paint. I walked back outside and stood behind a potted plant and cried some), roaches/palmetto bugs, and fish with big teeth that are not sharks. I’m cool with sharks. Alligator gar spring to mind as something that is not okay though. I’m also afraid of heights, but unlike all the others on this list, I can pinpoint the genesis of that one. There was a janky water park that closed in 2005 called Watermania. When I was about 9 years old, I decided I was gonna go on the fastest slide they had. I don’t remember what it was called, but I imagine it was something like DEATHARRHEA. Anyway, I slowly climbed those fucking rickety stairs in the Florida heat for an hour, and everything was just dandy until I was sliding down the slide. I don’t know what happened between pushing off and landing in the pool at the bottom, but I know I was crying when I got out, and a crowd of like 100 people had gathered around. My dad told me it looked like I tried to stand up, and he thought for sure I was going over the side. Which would have been like a 7 story drop onto concrete, which would have surely pulverized my whole body. Like, I literally have blocked out the memory of what happened, but I can’t handle heights anymore. Or crowds (very embarrassing).

+Any theories for the finale? If you know actual spoilers, please clearly say that you have spoilers. I love them, but I know a lot of people do not.

+When Will Graham cries, do you cry? I didn’t cry, but I did feel like I was gonna die a little bit.