Cleolinda Jones (cleolinda) wrote,
Cleolinda Jones
cleolinda

Hannibal 1x04: "Oeuf" webisodes

@TheAVClub: That pulled episode of Hannibal is now a series on the Internet, where no one is ever offended.

So, as previously discussed, they've decided to pull episode #4, "Ceuf," due to not feeling that great in retrospect about a storyline where Molly Shannon convinces kids to kill other kids. Actually, I'm a little confused about the title here, because Wikipedia gives the episode title as "Œuf," but all the official sites refer to it as "Ceuf," and... I'm not sure that's actually a word? But oeuf is? French for "egg," fitting in with the "French terms for food" theme, and pronounced a bit like "uhff," and relevant to the theme of children? So... I'm going with French Food Word in my heart, until someone can explain what's going on there. Although now I can't see it as anything but "oof," as in, "Well, now we're just gonna have to watch parts of it online and figure out what the fuck is going on for ourselves, oof." What they've done for us is pulled out the overarching, non-Killer of the Week developments and "cannibalized" (sigh) the rest into "webisodes." There are six of them, and they are... something else.

PREVIOUSLY ON: EMPATH AND CANNIBAL: Abigail Hobbs woke from her coma, she and Will trembled at each other a lot, and her trip home promptly racked up a body count; Alana had an amazing coat and an unfortunate encounter with a stone wall; Lecter and Miss Freddie decided to battle it out for the Absolute Worst at Helping trophy, and GUESS WHO WON.


Clip #1

There's sort of a mixed preview at the beginning as Bryan Fuller introduces the "webisodes," and I was trying not to watch any of this until they actually showed it to me in clip format but oh my God, you guys, Alana goes to Lecter's house for dinner and I want to launch myself in front of her like a flying bodyguard squirrel, omg noooooooo.

The Best Office Ever. Will and Lecter are having a good old-fashioned tête-à-tête therapy session, their chairs a thousand miles apart, so... whatever works for you, I guess.




(Wait, this establishing shot seems to indicate that his office is in his house?) (Wait, except totally not.)

This is all helpfully interspersed with constant flashes back to previous episodes--more than there would have been in the show itself, I suspect. Anyway: Will says he only feels safe when he's out in his fields looking back at the house and pretending like it's a boat on the sea. I'm struggling a bit without captioning, but: Lecter says, "You stood in the breathing silence of Garrett Jacob Hobbs' home. The very spaces he moved through. Tell me, Will... did they speak to you?" "With noise and clarity," whispers Will. Lecter: "You could sense his madness? Like a bloodhound?" Will is pained by how much time he spent trying to get inside Hobbs' mind: "To see him. Past the slides and vials, beyond the lines of the police reports, between the pixels of printed faces of sad dead girls..." He trails off, unable to continue. So obviously, let's just poke him deeper: "How did you feel, seeing Marissa Schurr impaled in his antler room?" Considering that Lecter's the one who actually killed Marissa, I blurted out "YOU CREEPY MOTHERFUCKER," so there's that. After a long pause... "Guilty," Will whispers in reply. "Because you couldn't save her?" "Because I felt like I killed her." Will leans forward and intenses, "I got so close to him that sometimes... I felt like we were doing the same things at different times of day, like I was eating or showering or sleeping at the same time he was." "Even after he was dead?" asks Lecter. "Even after he was dead," says Will quietly. Lecter: "Like... you were becoming him." "I know who I am," says Will, pulling himself together. "I'm not Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Dr. Lecter." Lecter considers this; I'm not sure whether he's pleased Will is holding up or considering this a setback.

Second half: The Nobark Home for Wayward--




oh my God he's at the house he's at the house OH MY GOD! BARK, YOU GUYS! BARK!! But Will's trained them so well that they all but show Lecter where the silver is. And of course he brought people sausage for the dogs. Of course he did. (The credits: Written by Jennifer Schuur. Wait, you mean they used her last name for Marissa?) ARRRRGH creeping through houses while people aren't home, stop going through people's drawers. (Apparently Will keeps a stash of neatly folded white t-shirts for his nightmare sweats. No doubt Lecter is appalled by their utter lack of patterns.) I don't know if the few notes he plays on the piano are significant or not. (ETA: Well, that's a little bit genius.) But then he sits down at a table by a row of fishing poles and--is he--is he sitting there making a fishing lure? I am sure this is deeply symbolic, but also, is Will going to come home and wonder what the fuck kind of fisherman elves finished his lure while he was gone? And then Lecter pricks his thumb on the fishhook, thinks about it for way too long, and sucks the blood a little too appreciatively, because hey, sometimes you need a mid-morning snack. What even.

Which is the end of the clip. However, I started thinking about what would happen next--what if Will came home just then? And I realized that the show has somehow divided our loyalties to the point where you may be sitting there going, "omg! Will! He's in the house, get out of the house!" but then also "omg! Hannibal! He's gonna find you! GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!" And I kind of love that.


Clip #2

At the psychiatric hospital, Abigail's cut throat is healing, but she insists on hiding the scar with Alana's super-cute scarves. Alana, on the other hand, says that "hiding what happened defeats the purpose of being here; sharing will help normalize." Well, you're wearing a scarf, so maybe it's just scarf weather, okay. "I'm not normal," says Abigail. "Not anymore." Her sass reemerges; she does not play well with others in group therapy, either--to be fair, she's become "a celebrity victim. Someone here asked me if I kept my [blood]stained clothes." Alana: "How did that make you feel?" I seriously want to institute a drinking game where we all chug when someone busts out any variation of that line. Unfortunately, what Abigail ~feels~ is that she wants to go home, and there is no home now, because... well, between the "CANNIBALS" graffiti and the mob of angry neighbors and the body she and Lecter hid somewhere around the house, it just really doesn't have that good a vibe anymore, you know? Alana says she'll help Abigail find a home--and in the meantime, give group therapy another chance? "SUPPORT GROUPS ARE SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF ME." Tell you what, you and Will can form a support group for people who hate support groups. "Isolation can suck just as much," Alana insists. "You have to find someone to relate to in this experience."

The Best Office Ever. It's Alana at the door: "HI." Lecter looks hilariously wary: "Do you have an appointment?" "Do you have a beer?" After a good solid minute of WTF, I remembered that he actually was her mentor back in the day, and they did actually meet more than, like, three weeks ago. So this is... somewhat less random? However, this does seem to confirm that this must be, in fact, The Best Home Office Ever. And, surprisingly: yes, he does! In a very tall glass (red wine for the gentleman). Also, the way he is watching her drink it makes me wonder how you would make beer out of people, because I would not put it past him.

Alana thinks Abigail may be "wrestling with a low-grade depression" (no, really?). Lecter thinks Alana might be projecting her own mental state; Alana just wants to get her drink on. "Nothing wrong with a little self-medication. Right, doctor?" she says (in retrospect, this is interesting). "Professional neutrality be damned," she sighs. Dude, I think it went to hell around the time you showed up at a colleague's house and demanded beer. "It's so hard to watch a bright young girl go so adrift." (What happened to "omg Abigail is a manipulative budding sociopath"?) Lecter thinks that maybe it's time Abigail's released from the hospital. "Released--where? Back into the wild?" Okay, she's not an actual deer, Alana.

Lecter argues that remaining "immersed in tragedy" may do more harm than good: "She should be out in the world, finding her footing, giving her the confidence to move forward." Alana insists that Abigail's "in no condition to tackle real-world issues" (I don't know, she sounded pretty practical about "let's sell the murder house and get me an apartment"). Lecter, with a significant look: "I'm not suggesting abandonment." "Hannibal, this is a girl who was very attached to her parents. You stepping in as a surrogate"--oh, busted--"would only be a crutch. I think Abigail needs to figure things out for herself in a safe, clinical environment, and that will give her the confidence to move forward." "I defer to the passion of my esteemed colleague," he says, bowing his head. Girl. Am I reading too much into that, or-- "Passion's good. Gets blood pumping." Oh. Cheers.


Clip #3

"Tell me about your mother." "Some lazy psychiatry, Dr. Lecter. Low-hanging fruit?" I would like to note here that it's interesting that Will's not on a first-name basis with Lecter, but Alana is--not unreasonably, I guess, but it does kind of reinforce this "Abigail as surrogate daughter and Will as problem child" thing we've had going. Also, we're now getting into the back-and-forth closeups that were such a trademark of the Silence of the Lambs movie, which is interesting. "I suspect that fruit is on a high branch," says Lecter. "Very difficult to reach." "So is my mother," says Will. "I never knew her." Lecter: "An interesting place to start." "Tell me about your mother, let's start there," retorts Will. God, I love when he gets all LOL THERAPY on... ohhhh no noooooo not a back story noooooo. IF THIS INVOLVES NAZIS I AM OUT, YOU GUYS. "Both my parents died when I was very young," says Lecter. "The proverbial orphan until I was adopted by my uncle Robertus (?) when I was sixteen." So far, so good, I guess? Will notes, "You have 'orphan' in common with Abigail Hobbs." Honey, you have no idea. Lecter: "I think you and I will discover we have a great deal in common with Abigail." Nooooo ideaaaaa. "There's something so foreign about family," sighs Will. "Like an ill-fitting suit. I never connected to the concept. I followed my father from the boatyards of Biloxi and Greenville to lake boats on Erie." Lecter, perhaps from experience: "Always the new boy at school. Always the stranger." "Always," says Will with a wry smile. Lecter says that Will created a family for himself (wait, he did?), and Will brushes it off: "Oh, I connected with a family of strays--and thank you for feeding them while I was away" (OH MY GOOOOOOD YOU INVITED HIM INNNNNN). "I was referring to Abigail," says Lecter. Will looks away.

Meanwhile, I don't know why Crawford's got his glad pants on because last I heard, Molly Shannon was convincing kids to kill other kids, but he is here to eat the hell out of your "modified boudin noir." That'd be black pudding, you guys. Also known as blood sausage (you got your blood in my sausage, you got your sausage in my blood, etc. The peanut butter cups of cannibals). "You promised to deliver your wife to my dinner table," says Lecter, because of course he does. Y'all, promise me that, when we get to the end of the season, someone will put together a supercut of all the people-eating double entendres (and don't you dare leave out "I'm very supportive of bake-offs," either). "Well, we're going to have to polish up our act. We can't have you diagnosing our marital problems all in one fell swoop. What am I about to put in my mouth?" asks Crawford (*facepalm*). "Rabbit," Lecter lies through his teeth, because obviously RABBIT IS PEOPLE. "He should have hopped faster," says Crawford, smirking. Lecter: "Yes, he should have." SCREAMING CUT TO SOME GUY RUNNING THROUGH THE WOODS and then Lecter slicing up God knows what particular cut of Some Guy and pan-frying it in his kitchen. "But fortunately for us, he did not."

(Okay, now imagine you're Some Guy, pelting through the woods for dear life. You turn around and look over your shoulder. What do you see? Pleasant dreams.)

"Our friend Will," Crawford announces briskly, "seems haunted today." OH YOU MEAN LIKE EVERY DAY? For some reason, this is what broke me. I'm sitting here laughing my ass off, I can't even see straight, I don't even know why. Jesus take the wheel. "We don't know what nightmares lie coiled beneath Will's pillow," says Lecter, noting that Crawford still thinks Abigail helped her father with the Minnesota Shrike murders (Will does not). "Perhaps," Crawford intones, "the nightmare under Will's pillow is that he was wrong about her." But then Lecter starts talking about "children transporting us to our childhoods" and "the pull of life before the FBI" and "simpler times and boatyards with Dad" and what about confidentiality, you are terrible, ending with, "He needs an anchor, Jack."

The Nobark Home. Will walks out into his front yard, takes a deep breath, and watches All the Dogs frisk around. And... scene.


Clip #4

The Best Office Ever: Moar therapy. Will throws down his bag---inside, there's a wrapped gift? "Has Christmas come early--or late?" asks Lecter. It was--was--for Abigail: "I thought better of it. I wasn't thinking straight--I was upset when I bought it. Maybe I still am." Upset about what? Molly Shannon, I guess. He got Abigail a magnifying glass and fly-tying gear? "Teaching her how to fish. Her father taught her how to hunt," observes Lecter. Will: "That's why I thought better of it." "Feeling paternal, Will?" "Aren't you?" Okay, wow, this just turned into the tensest episode of My Two Dads ever. "Yes," Lecter admits. "Our good friend Dr. Bloom has advised against taking too personal an interest in Abigail's welfare. Perhaps it's our responsibility, yours and mine, to help her find her way." Man, this would all sound so supportive and sensible if it weren't coming from Hannibal Lecter. Cut to:

Psychiatric hospital, father figure visiting hours.




(I know never shut up about the costumes on this show, but seriously, my soul craves that sweater.)

(Wait wait WAIT. Is that suit a solid color?)

"I don't think I'm allowed to leave," says Abigail, "after I climbed the fence." "I've made arrangements. You can say I'm... one of your guardians," says omg Lecter what are you doing. "Where are we going?" "Home," he says. "My home." This is so bad, you guys. This is so bad. "I thought you might enjoy it if I cooked for you." Given all the psychological undercurrents of caretaking and providing and cooking for people, JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL. "I'll have you back before bedtime." "Can I spend the night?" asks Abigail. "I don't like sleeping here. I have bad dreams." "You have to sleep in your own bed." Y'all, for a moment I thought he was saying, you can sleep over at my house, just not in my bed. Seriously, slumber parties are not professional. Rather, "This isn't my bed," she replies, meaning the one she's lying on right now. Why is there something oddly Lolita about this whole scene to me--specifically, her posture? Like the early part of the book, when Lolita's being a fairly normal, casual teenager and and formal, old-fashioned Humbert's trying to buddy up to her?

"Tell me about your dreams," says Lecter. Reluctantly, Abigail says, "I had one where Marissa was sending me picture texts... like, crime scene photos of... Nicholas Boyle. Gutted." "How you left him," says Lecter. He ran into her knife in a sternum-upward motion, okay? Abigail tremble-pales. "Even though she's dead, I'm afraid that Marissa's going to tell everyone I killed him and they'll think I'm just like my dad." Which she can't talk about in group: "I just have to get used to lying." "You only have to lie about one thing," he says, "and when you're with me, you don't have to lie about anything." In her dreams, she says, she wonders how she can live with what she's done, but when she's awake, she knows she can. "Does that make me a sociopath?" she asks. "No," he says. "It makes you a survivor." Exit cannibal family of two.


Clip #5

COOKING. Closeup of something expanding and steeping in a clear glass tea kettle (it is actually a very nice tea kettle). Lecter even has all his herbs and ingredients and things separated out in tiny glass bowls the way my sister (who went to culinary school) does, like it's a little imaginary cooking show (take a moment and imagine that, if you would). "It's important to know when it's time to turn the page," he says. "Have you thought about applying to schools?" Abigail, sassy: "My dad killed girls at all the schools I applied to." LOL ABIGAIL. Lecter: "... perhaps that can wait, then." On the other hand, "I wanna work for the FBI," says Abigail. "I would certainly feel safer with you in the FBI," he says, and at first I thought this was epic snark on Lecter's part, until he adds, "protecting my interests." Wait, how much does Abigail know? "They wouldn't let me in, though, would they? Because of what my dad did." "Only if they believe that's in your nature, too." Yeahhhhh... I don't think you can rubberstamp this one through the psych eval. "Nature vs. nurture," she replies, with this icy stare. "You're not your father's daughter," says Lecter. "Not anymore." He looks at her for a long moment. "What if it weren't so painful to think of him anymore?" Oh no. Ohhhh no. Oh no oh no oh no. They still haven't buried her father yet, have they? I'm--I'm having terrible flashbacks to the end of the Hannibal book, you guys. Well, that whole business involved a whole mess of mind-altering drugs, so as long as we're not... oh. Guess what's in the tea? Psychedelic mushrooms. No, not mushroom fun--psilocybin, to be exact. "I have all the access to traumatic memories I need," Abigail says warily. "Unlimited access." "Which," he replies, "is why we need to supplement them with SHROOMS! positive associations. No more bad dreams." "You want me to do drugs?" says Abigail, with that exquisite skepticism of hers. Lecter: "I want you to do this drug, with my supervision." I LEARNED IT FROM WATCHING YOUUUUU. "Do you trust me?" WELL, NO?

But she does, so she drinks it, and there are some weird woodwind notes? I am concerned? Cut to: weird music, eggs and toast and sausage (sigh) frying, and Abigail looking a little green around the gills as she watches Lecter cook. She flashes back to the beginning of the previous episode, hunting with her father and learning to clean the kill, then to the end where she stabs Nicholas; then she (on purpose?) drops the teacup, SMASH!, and that's your brain on shrooms. "Dr. Bloom said this was okay?" "Not at all," Lecter says, unconcerned. "We often have a difference of opinion." Holy shit, if Alana found out about this, she would shit kittens. Abigail wanders over to a bowl of fruit, which goes all woom~woom~woom before her eyes. "More secrets for us!" she says, fascinated by--what is that, a persimmon? "Well, you and I will have many secrets," he says, picking up the broken pieces of china. I don't know where we're going with this but I think I'm going to scream. Psilocybin psychotherapy can totally be "a positive, even spiritual experience," he claims, and "trauma is an affliction of the powerless. I want to give you your power back." "I don't--feel--so good," she stammers, which is funny because I don't either. "That feeling will pass," he says, kneeling down and putting his hands around her face: "Allow that feeling to wash over you. Through you. Let me be your guide." I, who am the Worst at Helping. Abigail considers this and, after a long perplexed moment of thought, replies: "You're making breakfast for dinner?" He smiles. I'm not entirely sure what he's saying about a Spanish chef in the something century but it's about eggs, and... "Sausage and eggs was the last meal I was having with my parents," Abigail says with a sort of detached surprise. "I know," he says. "It's also the first meal you're having with me." And she gives him the biggest brightest smile in response. Lecter is straight-up grooming her, you guys.


Clip #6

A time-lapse shot of the house as night approaches: THE RECKONING.

"AS SOMEONE WHO MAKES SUCH A BIG DEAL ABOUT COMMON COURTESY, I'M A LITTLE TAKEN ABACK!"
Uh, Alana, your participle is dangling. Also: SHE MAD. "SLASH A LOT TAKEN ABACK. THAT YOU WOULD TAKE MY PATIENT, MY PATIENT, OUT OF THE HOSPITAL, WITHOUT MY PERMISSION." Lecter's folding a pristine white dishtowel or something in his spotless steel kitchen. He nods, chastened. "And I'm not a professional scold," she amends, backing down, because NO, ALANA! GET HIM! GET HIM!! "But don't put me in this position ever again." "I'm sorry," he says finally. "RUDE!" she cries, and I had to pause the video because I was laughing so hard. GET HIM! GET HIM WHERE IT HURTS!! "Hannibal, shockingly rude!" (BADLY DONE, EMMA!) "You have every right to be upset with me," he says. "I overstepped my bounds." Alana is now pacing around the kitchen in a fabulous red wrap dress. A wrap dress of RAGE. "Where is she." Oh, shit, she too mad to even yell anymore. "She's in the dining room," he says quietly. "And... Alana?" (*DEATH GLARE*) "You were right." "OFTEN AM," she says. "HAVE TO BE MORE SPECIFIC." Lecter "reluctantly" admits, "She wasn't ready to leave the hospital. She, uh... experienced a bit of anxiety, so I gave her a sedative." "SEDATIVE? WHAT DID YOU GIVE HER?" "I only gave her half a Valium," he lies, "but she may be a little hazy."

In the dining room, Abigail is so stoned, but creepy stoned. And the table's set... for three? "You were expecting me?" asks Alana, both surprised and somewhat placated. Oh my God, he knew Alana would find out he'd taken Abigail; he lured Alana there on purpose, and that's why he just stood there letting her yell it out. THIS MAN, I SWEAR. "You hungry? Hannibal made breakfast for dinner," Abigail mumbles, beaming vacantly. Alana is eyeing her suspiciously (as is her specialty), particularly now that Abigail has gone from zero to First-Name Basis--"What is it?" Lecter asks the Suspicious Eyer. From Abigail's POV, Lecter and Alana shift hazily into her parents, then back again. "I see family," Abigail says, gleaming. This is so bad, you guys.

And then, Gina Torres! I'd like to think that they were trying to figure out who to get to play Crawford's wife, and Laurence Fishburne looked over his shoulder and said, "Honey, can you come here a minute?" The Crawfords are in bed, in formal pajamas, not speaking to each other, having the aforementioned marital problems. "Do you think it's too late to have kids?" asks Jack. Look, I know that children and family are kind of the theme of this episode, and that we didn't get the rest of the episode, but... in terms of pacing, this seems to come out of nowhere. Nonetheless: Bella gives him a long, forlorn look, then turns her back to him and says, "It is for me." Sad music, lights out.

Nobark Home for Well-Fed Strays. All the Dogs are curled up on their pillows, and Will's trying to get comfortable in the launchpad of his nightmares bed. God knows what kind of dreams he's going to have, because we didn't get to see the Killer of the Week plot. Tonight we'll go straight to episode 5, and I'll probably need the weekend to recap that one because I didn't realize they'd give us enough show for basically an entire separate recap today. But so help me, WE ARE CAUGHT UP. Mostly.


(Continue: the rest of 1x04: "Ceuf" *throws up hands*)

(Continue: 1x05: "Coquilles" )


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