“Is Hannibal In Love With Me?” – The Construction of Queerness in NBC's Hannibal

MA Thesis Anna Schmieding

University of Amsterdam MA Film Studies 04.07.2018

Supervisor: Dr. M. Wilkinson Second Reader: Dr. T. Laine Table of Contents

1. Introduction 1 1.1 Queer Theory 2 1.2 Queer Media Representations and Queer Readings 4 1.3 Detectives, Murderers, and Monsters: Hannibal 6 1.4 Corpus and Method 8 2. Narrative 10 2.1 Hannibal , Red Dragon , and Questions of Genre 10 2.2 Visuality, “Reality”, and Ambiguity 14 2.3 Failed Families and Rejecting Heteronormativity 20 3. Characters 25 3.1 Hannibal, the Paradox 25 3.2 Will's Identity in Flux 30 3.3 Stag Man and the Raven-Feathered Stag 36 3.4 Will and Hannibal Merging Into One 41 4. Actions 46 4.1 Transgressing Boundaries: Killing, Eating, Cannibalising 46 4.2 “This Is My Design” – Queer Seeing 50 4.3 Sex and Relationships: Showing and Hinting At Queerness 55 5. Conclusion 64

Bibliography 66 1. Introduction

“See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.” - Hannibal Lecter (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”)

The final episode of the NBC series Hannibal (2013-2015) shows the two main characters, Will Graham (Hugh Dancy) and the titular Hannibal Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen), join forces to violently kill another character, before pulling each other into a blood-soaked embrace. This scene depicts the climax of the characters' relationship and at the same time summarises the careful construction of said relationship over thirty-nine episodes in three seasons. The above quote functions as a conclusion to the series, highlighting the carefully constructed, yet mostly non-explicit queerness of the characters' relationship, and of the series as a whole. The quote additionally points to the series' focus on ambiguity, since it may be read as referring to the characters' relationship on different levels: On the one hand, the quote stresses that Will, the series' primary detective figure, has enjoyed killing another character, thus fully abandoning the law, and with it the sense of order often associated with detective characters. On the other hand, the quote also directly comments on the characters' queer romantic attraction to each other, which is built up throughout the series and culminates in this scene's embrace. Hannibal offers a unique perspective on the (re-)presentation of queerness in a television series by addressing issues such as identity, morality, and (defying) normativity. These topics are approached in ways that reject “simplistic” narratives, undermine and dissolve binaries and boundaries, and instead favour ambiguity over straightforward explanations. Following the figure of a serial killer and cannibal well-known in popular culture due to Thomas Harris' novels and their filmic adaptations, Hannibal connects murder and cannibalism to queer love and sexuality in a way seldom seen in contemporary television series. Over the past century, queer representations in film and television have evolved in various directions following broader societal understandings of what it means to be queer. Villains are no longer portrayed as queer simply to underline their deviance, and attempts at providing audiences with positive queer representations have opened up new questions about how and why queer representation should be addressed (Davies, 46-70; Dyer, The Same 1-2). Mirroring queer theory's argument that identities are inherently unstable due to being constructed performatively in society, Hannibal is best understood as operating at the forefront of contemporary strategies concerning queer representation. In an examination of the construction of queerness in Hannibal , this thesis asks the

1 following questions: How are the series' narrative, characters, and character actions used in its construction of queerness? In what ways does the series mirror queer theory's argument that identities are never stable but rather fluid and constantly in flux? And how does the series' construction of queerness question and challenge heteronormative systems and associated societal boundaries?

1.1 Queer Theory Queer theory is generally understood to have developed out of Gay and Lesbian Studies in the 1990s, after Teresa de Lauretis coined the term in 1991 (Fryer, 3). Since then the term “queer” has been taken on by academics and activists alike to refer to both sexual and gender identities that fall outside the cisgender and heterosexual experience. Queer theory rejects the humanist idea that identities are stable and clearly definable. Judith Butler, one of the central figures in queer theory, argues that gender and sexuality are continuously produced rather than set in stone, and that the notion of being one's gender or sexuality is inaccurate:

[G]ender proves to be performative – that is, constituting the identity it is purported to be. In this sense, gender is always a doing, though not a doing by a subject who might be said to preexist the deed. […] There is no gender identity behind the expression of gender; that identity is performatively constituted by the very 'expressions' that are said to be its results (Butler, 33).

Butler questions and deconstructs the idea that the expression of one's gender is based on a fixed gender identity. In arguing that gender is performative – constructed through repeated actions 1 – Butler reverses the cause-and-effect logic often presumed about gender expression and identity, echoing Simone de Beauvoir's claim that “one is not born a woman, but rather becomes one” (qtd. in Butler, 3). If gender identity is made up of individual repeated actions, such as wearing particular clothing or makeup, then such an identity is unlikely to be fixed or stable over time. This inherent instability of any individual's gender identity also links to gender being perceived and constructed differently in different (historical) contexts, and intersecting with other social markers such as ethnicity and class (Butler, 6). Importantly, in western societies, gender and sexuality are inseparably entangled in their construction along binary axes (male-female, gay-straight) that disregard and exclude persons whose identity expression falls outside the either-or logic of these binary systems. Butler stresses

1 Butler states that gender can be defined as “the repeated stylization of the body, a set of repeated acts within a highly rigid regulatory frame that congeal over time to produce the appearance of substance, of a natural sort of being” (43-44).

2 that the understanding of sex and gender as binary requires a definition of one gender via its opposition to the other (30). Hence, women are understood to be women to the extent that they are not men. Sex, gender, and sexuality constitute each other in this system, where the perceived binary opposition of men and women is reinforced by desire for the “opposite sex”: “The institution of a compulsory and naturalized heterosexuality requires and regulates gender as a binary relation in which the masculine term is differentiated from a feminine term, and this differentiation is accomplished through the practices of heterosexual desire” (Butler, 30). According to this system, sex is given, gender follows sex, and desire follows gender and sex, so that the categories of “male” and “female” are unambiguously defined through their opposition and sexual attraction to each other (Butler, 23-24). Butler rejects this line of argumentation and states that gender is not determined by sex. Rather, gender is constructed in an ongoing process in society and is not, in any “natural” way, related to sex 2 (Butler, 10). Similarly, a person's sexual attraction cannot be deduced on the basis of their sex or gender, and the spectrum of sexual identities cannot be reduced to a heterosexual position, and a seemingly opposing homosexual position. Queer theory understands gender and sexuality as inherently unstable and in flux in their relation to historically specific contexts and intersections with other social markers. This is further supported by insights Michel Foucault provides in his examination of the historical construction of sexuality. He argues:

Sexuality must not be thought of as a kind of natural given which power tries to hold in check, or as an obscure domain which knowledge tries gradually to uncover. It is the name that can be given to a historical construct […] (105).

Sexuality and how it is defined and understood is closely related to power structures that inform how a given society treats questions of gender and sexuality (Foucault, 116). These power structures are, according to Foucault, not limited to the power of the law, but function on a broader level of society, working through normalisation and control rather than punishment (89). Foucault further argues that “in the space of a few centuries, a certain inclination has led us to direct the question of what we are, to sex” (78). Referring to sexual practices rather than biological sex, Foucault highlights the importance of sex (and sexual orientation) to identity and practices of identity

2 Butler points out that, even if biological sex fit a clearly defined binary system (which is already undermined by the existence of intersex people), there is no sound reason to assume that the number of possible genders should be limited to two: “The presumption of a binary gender system implicitly retains the belief in a mimetic relation of gender to sex whereby gender mirrors sex” (Butler, 10). Butler continues: “When the constructed status of gender is theorized as radically independent of sex, gender itself becomes a free-floating artifice, with the consequence that man and masculine might just as easily signify a female body as a male one, and woman and feminine a male body as easily as a female one” (ibid., italics in original).

3 expression. Both Butler and Foucault reject the idea that gender and sexuality are fixed and expressed only in binary terms. Queer theory understands gender and sexuality as categories whose meanings shift over time and between individuals. Expressions of gender and sexuality are better described as occurring on a broad spectrum than as fixed binary, mutually exclusive positions. In its exploration of the construction of queerness in Hannibal , this thesis builds on queer theory's core argument that identities are never fixed, tend not to be stable over time, and generally defy unambiguous categorisation.

1.2 Queer Media Representations and Queer Readings Discussions about queer theory in academia are reflected on a perhaps more practical level in debates around queer representations in the media in general, and film and television in particular. The question of how to best portray queer characters on screen has been addressed in various ways over the past several decades, resulting in the opposing approaches of “politically correct” images of gay and lesbian couples that stress the normalcy of queerness, and a more openly sexual, subversive mode of representation (Arthurs, 123). Samuel Chambers argues that television is a powerful tool that can be used to uphold or undermine heteronormativity, pointing out that “on the majority of television shows heteronormativity operates in the exact same way it does in society: invisibly. That is, we assume everyone is straight, and, pretty much, everyone is straight” (35). Merely introducing queer characters into television series is thus not enough of an effort, as numerous authors argue (Arthurs, 117-23; Chambers, 35-36; Davis & Needham, 3-7; Donovan, 39- 43). Davis and Needham lament the lack of diversity in queer characters (3) and argue that “the queerest programmes” might not be found among those that focus on queer characters, since they often still perpetuate heteronormativity (5). As Donovan puts it: “The dimensions of LGBT representation in contemporary television frequently take the form of absorption, queerness being shaped and structured specifically to fall in line with heteronormative standards” (42). He harshly criticises shows such as Modern Family (ABC, 2009–present) for destroying queerness by making it conform to normative structures (42-43). This supports Teal and Conover-Williams's argument that the legalisation of same-sex marriage in an increasing number of countries often appears as proof that queerness is generally more accepted in many societies, while in actuality, discrimination may only take on more covert forms (14-15). While Davis and Needham's argument in favour of finding queerness in non-explicitly queer series and characters is an adequate temporary solution for dissatisfied viewers, it should be noted

4 that this is not the ideal. Queer characters are still too often reduced to their gender or sexuality rather than being depicted as complex, well-rounded individuals (David & Needham, 7). As mentioned above, the tendency to portray queer characters as power-hungry villains or jokes to be laughed at has mostly been abandoned. Nevertheless, this practice, common throughout the first half of the twentieth century and into the 1960s and '70s continuously affects the treatment of today's queer characters in film and television (Davies, 46-70). While many queer characters are still written to die at the end of their story arcs, perpetuating the “bury your gays” trope 3, queer villains have become less and less common, perhaps out of a fear of criticism for negative portrayals. Trends and counter-trends such as these point to the fact that equal representation of queer characters is far from achieved. At the same time, it is important to remember that historically, many characters in film and television have been coded as queer without verbal confirmation or sexual physical contact between characters. The Motion Picture Production Code (1930-1968) that censored the portrayal of openly stated queerness on film, made less obvious depictions of queer characters necessary, and its effects carry on into present-day representations of queerness (Messimer, 176-78). Hannibal is aware of this part of cinema history and “relies on antique methods of queer coding to hide its central romance in plain sight” (Donovan, 39). The ambiguity of Will and Hannibal's sexual orientations is thus not to be read as a sign of their heterosexuality, but rather as one aspect of the series' modus operandi. Dhaenens, van Bauwel, and Biltereyst argue that the fields of queer theory and film studies can benefit from each other, pointing out that queer theory can be applied in research on queer representation in film and television, while film studies can provide queer theory with concrete objects to study (340). In the case of “straight” films and television series that do not prominently feature queer characters, queer readings of the narrative and characters can help in identifying and undermining heterocentric views presented in media (Dhaenens, van Bauwel & Biltereyst, 341). Such queer readings should be understood in connection to specific historical and societal power relations and contexts (ibid.). Queer viewers may find queer readings of non-queer media content appealing since it allows them to see themselves reflected in a media environment where more accurate representation is scarce. Dhaenens, van Bauwel, and Biltereyst additionally point to slash fiction 4 as being a fan-driven equivalent to academic queer theory: “Authors of slash fiction

3 The website TV Tropes describes the “bury your gays” trope as follows: “Often, especially in older works [...] gay characters just aren't allowed happy endings” (TV Tropes). This tendency of not allowing for happy storylines for queer characters often results in those characters dying: “if they do end up having some kind of relationship, at least one half of the couple, often the one who was more aggressive in pursuing a relationship, thus 'perverting' the other one, has to die at the end” (ibid.). 4 Dhaenens, van Bauwel, and Biltereyst define slash fiction as describing “same-sex relationships between male protagonists in some textual world” (342). It should be noted that relationships between female characters, as well as relationships between characters of non-binary genders may also be addressed in similar fan-produced fiction.

5 approach the textual material in a similar way to how certain queer readers approach classic Hollywood cinema; they deconstruct traditional narratives and reveal the queer from reading between the story lines” (343). Not only do such queer readings encourage a critical engagement with, and questioning of, heteronormativity, they also empower fans to produce versions of the source material that better fit and reflect their personal circumstances (Jenkins, 278-79). Critical readings of portrayals of explicitly queer characters may uncover “underlying normative themes” in these depictions, such as when queer characters are shown to perpetuate rather than undermine heteronormativity, such as in the case of Modern Family (Avila-Saavedra, 10; Teal & Conover-Williams, 14-15). Nuanced portrayals of queer characters and issues provide information about what queer lives can look like, and allow queer viewers to see themselves represented, validating their experiences 5. Non-queer viewers can become more familiar with queer topics through adequate media representation, which may help in raising awareness and acceptance of queerness. At the same time, it is important to remember that the acceptance of some members of the queer community is often effected by the rejection of others – an example being that white gay middle-class men are generally more accepted in society nowadays, while transgender individuals are still systematically denied rights and protection against discrimination and harassment (Marshall, 86-87). Diverse and complex queer representation in film and television may contribute to social changes that are still necessary in order to achieve full legal and societal equality for queer people (ibid.). Through its construction of queerness, especially in the portrayal of its titular queer protagonist-villain, Hannibal questions many contemporary strategies of portraying queerness in television series, and proposes its own approach. The series continuously rejects heteronormativity, and constructs queerness along multiple story-telling axes, creating complex queer characters and storylines.

1.3 Detectives, Murderers, and Monsters: Hannibal Traditional detective stories generally focus on the restoration of order to society after its disruption by a crime (Dyer, The Same 36; Rafter, 213). Authors such as Markowitz (11-17), Sim (2-3), and Brownson (159-61) argue that over the course of the last century, the typical presentation of the detective figure has undergone significant changes. Detective characters have developed from

5 Dyer summarises the need for queer films on a political level - “Lesbian/gay movements, like any other, need films that tell people who is speaking (who the movement is) and what to do” ( From and For 285) – as well as an artistic and philosophical one, stating that there is a “simple need to express in order to survive, to be seen to be believed” (From and For 286).

6 almost omniscient solvers of puzzles, to the cynical heroes of hard-boiled and noir tales, to being flawed, even criminal, themselves, struggling to bring truth and justice to victims (ibid.). At the same time, contemporary crime fiction pays more attention to villains such as serial killers, as well as their psychopathologies, their ideas about morality, and their ability to blend into society to remain undetected (Gillis, 1-9; Peach, 150-53; Gates, 194). The seemingly contradictory trend of films and television series focusing on serial killers as main characters, such as in Hannibal or Dexter (Showtime, 2006-2013), may be understood as a continuation of the long-standing fascination of U.S.-American audiences with serial killers (Blake, 198). Admiration of characters such as Hannibal Lecter or Dexter Morgan does not only point to conflicts within American culture, but also leads audiences away from comfortable identification with morally “clean” heroic detectives. Questions of morality, justice, and identity are complicated by those serial killer characters that are created in ways that encourage sympathetic reactions from audiences. This move away from traditional narratives that outright condemn criminal characters distorts traditional black- and-white stories of “good vs. evil”. Complex characters who cannot be understood in terms of such narrow terms are well-suited for queer readings, since queer theory rejects binary notions of identity and argues for more complex understandings of human subjects. Sandten and Süß point out that detective fiction “often reflects the anxieties and fears of its respective society and its moral and ethical codes that are epitomized in the binary structure of good and evil” (2). This connection between fiction and reality points to changes to how (western) societies understand complex questions of morality and identity. The construction of queerness in detective fiction is particularly suited for commenting on and contributing to society's treatment of non-normative characters and persons since queerness is linked to detective fiction, both through historic portrayals of villains as queer (see above), and the criminalisation and pathologising of queer people in the past (and, in many societies, in the present). The concept of morally flawed detectives and intelligent psychopath serial killers is at the forefront of the narrative in Hannibal , and adapted in ways that often function to undermine viewers' expectations. Alexandra Carroll argues that the character of Hannibal is a “monstrous-human”, a gothic double of Will, the series' main investigator figure (41, 45-56). As such, the character of Hannibal demonstrates the arbitrariness and brittle nature of societal boundaries between monstrous figures and the rest of humanity (Carroll, 42-44). In this way, Hannibal points to the instability and fluidity of identities as argued for by queer theory, since a rejection of rigid boundaries undermines viewers' perception of differences between criminals and detectives as clearly defined and unambiguous. The transgression of normative boundaries is also addressed in Casey's analysis of the series, where he explores the queer aspects of the main characters' relationship, and argues that “ Hannibal creates identification

7 with a quasi-queered and psychically non-normative protagonist who […] is powerfully attracted to an aberrant male other” (562). He points out that the character of Will undermines many of the conventions of traditional crime fiction by blurring the boundary between what society considers normal and what it deems deviant (ibid.). Similarly, Donovan links the series' focus on concealment, display, and detection of crimes to what he refers to as “queer unknowing”, where ambiguity becomes a rejection of traditional knowledge structures, with the series portraying “a radically unknowing detective-protagonist, blurring labels of good and evil, romanticizing a villain, and avoiding a decisive labeling of homoerotic infatuation” (55). Food plays an important role in creating the monstrous in Hannibal , and Fuchs and Phillips argue that food and the preparation of meals are used in the series to build relationships between characters (211-14), as well as as a tool for Hannibal to demonstrate his dominance over others (209-10; 215). Fuchs also explores food as a liminal object used to emphasise the series' focus on transgressing boundaries, and argues that the series' depiction of food and cannibalism aid in creating Hannibal as a character who defies easy categorisation (99-102).

1.4 Corpus and Method Since this thesis addresses narrative, characters, and actions in Hannibal in its exploration of queerness in the series, developments in the portrayals of characters and their relationships are of interest. The analysis focuses on nine episodes, three from each season, while the series' remaining episodes will be considered for additional details 6. Since they address major plot point, especially with regards to characters' identities, each season's final episode will be examined closely and similarly, the other six selected episodes are especially significant in terms of the series' depictions of queerness, deviance, and the blurring of established boundaries 7. The research question – how is queerness constructed through Hannibal 's narrative, characters, and actions, and how is queerness related to the questioning and breaking-down of (hetero-)normative boundaries? – will be approached from the perspective of queer theory. Queer theory is especially useful in an analysis of Hannibal due to its rejection of the idea that identities are fixed and stable. Hannibal portrays the

6 The following episodes will be analysed: “Apéritif” (1.01), “Fromage” (1.08), “Savoureux” (1.13), “Kaiseki” (2.01), “Naka-choko” (2.10), “Mizumono” (2.13), “Dolce” (3.06), “Digestivo” (3.07), and “The Wrath of the Lamb” (3.13). 7 While it may be argued that this focus on episodes that highlight queerness and ambiguity (rather than other episodes) might influence the outcome of the analysis in favour of this thesis' central argument, it is important to note that a close examination of these episodes is necessary in order to fully understand the ways in which queerness is constructed in the series. Since a detailed analysis of all episodes is not possible within the scope of this thesis, the focus will lie on the nine episodes most relevant to the construction of queerness in Hannibal . It should also be noted that since this thesis concentrates on queer sexuality, despite being related, questions of gender, class, and ethnicity will not be analysed in detail.

8 relationship between Will and Hannibal as a story of re-evaluated, transgressed, and dissolved boundaries, which leads to changes in the characters' self-identification. Thus Hannibal 's presentation of this relationship, among other aspects of the series, reflects queer theory's focus on identities in flux. The first body chapter, “Narrative”, focuses on the construction of the series' plot progression and mode of relating information to viewers. The series will be discussed as an adaptation of Thomas Harris' novel Red Dragon (1981), and it will be argued that Hannibal , contrary to its source material, is not easily defined in terms of genre. Furthermore, the chapter examines the series' focus on visuality in its relation to the construction of characters' “inner worlds”, and the ways in which dream-like sequences are used as a tool for undermining narrative linearity. Lastly, the chapter takes a closer look at the portrayal of families in Hannibal , arguing that the series' treatment of family units serves as a rejection of heteronormativity. The next chapter, “Characters”, addresses the construction of the main characters, Hannibal and Will. Hannibal will be examined in terms of his seemingly contradictory constructed personality, while an exploration of a fluid conception of identity is at the centre of the chapter's investigation of the character of Will. The chap ter additionally focuses on the main characters' relationship as visualised in the figure of a stag and “Stag Man”, while the increasing blurring- together of the two characters will be explored in relation to notions of queerness and boundaries. The final chapter, “Actions”, explores the crossing of boundaries through the acts of murder and eating (especially in relation to cannibalism), and the ways in which these are queered in the series. Additionally, the action of seeing will be considered in its importance to the series' construction of queerness as well as its treatment of questions of identity. Arguing that two core sex scenes in the series function as queering devices for the main characters' relationship, the chapter also investigates sex and desire, and how they are portrayed as queer in the series. It is important to note that Hannibal should not be understood as a typical example of contemporary queer representations in general, since the series employs modes of queering that distinguish it from many other series and films. Rather, Hannibal is emblematic of a new mode of queer television that rejects straightforward depictions of stable (sexual) identities, and instead favours ambiguity and fluidity. Through a close analysis of the construction and portrayal of queerness in the series through narrative, characters, and actions, it will be suggested that Hannibal opens up new possibilities for queer media representations that break away from binary understandings of identity, especially in relation to sexuality. This thesis argues that Hannibal is an intrinsically queer series that queers every level of story-telling.

9 2. Narrative

Hannibal 's narrative construction queers the series and its characters in various ways. The series undermines the often rigid structures of detective and serial killer narratives, highlighting the difficulty of describing it in terms of any particular genre. This rejection of many genre traditions is also reflected in the series' focus on visuality and characters' emotions, which destabilises the linear progression of plot elements. Lastly, this chapter examines the portrayal of families in Hannibal , and how the failure many characters experience in relation to family-building functions as a rejection of heteronormativity.

2. 1 Hannibal , Red Dragon , and Questions of Genre Hannibal eschews many of the of the common narrative strategies often found in more formulaic detective fiction. This difference in narrative construction becomes especially clear when the series is compared to the novel it is based on, Thomas Harris' Red Dragon (1981) 8. The novel is a noticeably more traditional detective and serial killer narrative than the series: The main focus is on Will Graham's investigation concerning Francis Dolarhyde, who is killed, and thus punished for his crimes and removed from society, by the end of the novel. While Dolarhyde also dies in the series, it is noteworthy that his death differs greatly from Harris' original story. In the novel, Molly, Will's wife, shoots and kills Dolarhyde in self-defence when he attacks her and her family. In the series, Will and Hannibal kill Dolarhyde (Richard Armitage) together, also after being attacked, but the scene emphasises the characters' enjoyment of the act of killing by presenting it in slow motion (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”). Since the character of Dolarhyde is only introduced in the second half of the third season of Hannibal , he is a minor character in the series as a whole, shifting the focus of the narrative onto the relationship between Will and Hannibal, which is not explored in detail in the novel. Indeed, Lecter is not very present in the novel, only interacting with Graham briefly and sending occasional letters. He is clearly coded as evil in the novel, and despite insisting that Graham had only been able to catch him because they are “just alike ” (Harris, 80), Lecter remains a minor character, easily identified as an unsympathetic psychopath. The series also clearly distinguishes itself from the 2002 filmic adaptation of Red Drag on (dir. Brett Ratner) by portraying Hannibal as less defined by the shock-value of physical violence: “ Hannibal 's version of Dr. Lecter

8 While the characters in the series are based on Red Dragon and Harris' other novels in the Lecter franchise, only the third season roughly follows the novel's plot. It should be noted that the comparison of the series to the novel in this section is not to be read in terms of a fidelity argument. Rather, Hannibal expands on the source material and adds new layers of meaning, especially in relation to queerness.

10 is in complete control over his own emotions and actions, as Anthony Hopkins' wild-eyed, physically menacing presence is replaced by the ominous calm of Mads Mikkelsen” (Fuchs & Phillips, 207). The more developed relationship between Will and Hannibal in the series, and the more complex depiction of Hannibal as a character complicate the detective narrative, making it more difficult for viewers to base their decision on which characters to root for on morality alone. Viewers of the series who are familiar with the novels or films are presented with an alternate version of Hannibal, which marks the series as distinct from the source material. Other characters in the series may defy audience expectations as well. Since the cast of characters found in the Hannibal Lecter franchise are well-known in popular culture, audiences may expect characters to look or behave in certain ways that are often deliberately undermined by the series. Two important supporting characters who are presented as male in the novels and films are female in the series: the psychologist Alan Bloom is Alana Bloom (Caroline Dhavernas) in the series, and Freddy Lounds becomes Freddie (Fredricka) Lounds (Lara Jean Chorostecki). Both characters relate to Will and Hannibal differently than they do in the novels. Alana is first presented as a romantic interest for Will, later has an affair with Hannibal, and in the third season becomes Margot Verger's (Katharine Isabelle) long-term romantic partner. Harris' original Freddy is abducted and killed by Dolarhyde, whereas the series places another character, Dr. Frederick Chilto n (Raúl Esparza), in his/her place. Freddie, instead, is involved in a plot that leads to Hannibal believing that Will killed her. Tellingly, it is through Alana Bloom that viewers realise that Freddie has not been killed. The fact that the series changes the gender of a recurring character from male to female, and draws attention to that character's unexpected survival, is noteworthy 9. Similarly, several characters (Jack Crawford, Beverly Katz, and Reba McClane) who had previously been portrayed by white actors in the films are played by actors of colour in the series. The series' creators appear to pay attention to diversity in terms of gender and ethnicity, and the same is true for queer representation. While Harris' novels and their filmic adaptations have been accused of perpetuating homophobia and transphobia, especially in the case of the well-known The Silence of the Lambs (dir. Jonathan Demme, 1991) ( Staubs, n. pag), the series creates a happy ending for its openly queer female characters: Alana and Margot are shown to be in a happy long-term relationship, both with high-

9 At first glance, it might be argued that the survival of these characters casts them as “final girls”, the trope of the sole survivor in horror films who is generally wittier and significantly more virginal than her friends (Clover, 35- 41), but Hannibal undermines an understanding of Alana and Freddy as final girls, and thus readings of the characters as simple plot devices. Freddy does not survive due to her ability to outsmart Hannibal or Dolarhyde, and the scene most reminiscent of the final girl's struggle with the serial killer occurs when she (and the audience) believes that Will is attacking her, while it is later revealed that he only meant to involve her in his plan to capture Hannibal (2.10 “Naka-choko”; 2.11 “Ko No Mono”). Alana does not fit the profile of the witty virgin either, since her sexuality is addressed several times in the series (see chapter 4), and no serial killer attempts to kill her directly. Rather than a plot device that functions to praise abstinence and condemn promiscuity, Alana is presented as a complex character, while Freddy's role in the series is too minor to consider her as a final girl (see Clover, 39).

11 income authoritative jobs. Hannibal 's divergence from the novel also plays a role in rendering the series difficult to define in terms of genre. Despite the fact that IMDb lists the series in the categories Crime, Drama, and Horror, it does not easily fit into any of these narrow categories (IMDb). The detective fiction genre, despite having undergone significant changes since Poe's Murders in the Rue Morgue (1841), is still characterised by a focus on the apprehension of the criminal, typically leading to a restoration of order to a society disrupted by the crime (Markowitz, 11-17). Hannibal treats this fundamental opposition of detective and criminal, and the detection and elimination of the perpetrator, as more complex and complicated than most narratives that deal with murder. The series undermines binary oppositions such as detective vs. criminal and “good” vs. “evil” by presenting viewers with characters that do not fit into these seemingly neat categories. In fact, the roles of detective and criminal blur into each other in the series: Hannibal (traditionally the criminal) helps with the FBI's investigations and is shown to be a skillful psychiatrist who is able to help his patients, while Will (the “detective”) is presented as a character capable of, and enjoying, extreme acts of violence. There is no restoration of order to society in Hannibal , neither at the end of most individual episodes, nor at the conclusion of the series. Despite Will's success at apprehending murderers, he is constantly followed by a lingering unease, often associated with killing the serial killer character Garret Jacob Hobbs (Vladimir Jon Cubrt) in the first episode, so that viewers cannot see the removal of individual criminals from society as meaningful victories. Hannibal comments on its own status as difficult to define early on in the series, when the characters of Will and Jack (Laurence Fishburne) discuss the psychological makeup of Hobbs. Will states: “I don't know this kind of psychopath, never read about him. I don't even know if he's a psychopath” (1.01 “Apéritif”). Jack asks Will: “What kind of crazy is he?” and Will is shown to be unable to provide a satisfying answer because the killer does not fit any category of psychological disorder Will is familiar with (ibid.). The series' dialogue thus provides viewers with a hint that they are not to expect neat categorisations and explanations as the series progresses. Isabel Santaulària argues that in many instances of serial killer fiction, the figure of the serial killer functions as a “bogeyman”, whose violent crimes justify the existence and actions of law- enforcement agents (65). Hannibal undermines that narrative strategy , and pointedly portrays proper law-enforcement procedure as unimportant to central characters' plans, such as in the final episode of the second season, when Will and Jack are shown to proceed in their plan to “entrap” Hannibal by goading him into attempting to kill Jack, despite being warned against it by another character who informs them that such action would be illegal and any evidence obtained through it not admissible in court (2.13 “Mizumono”). Will and Jack are depicted knowingly and wilfully

12 acting against the law, despite working for the FBI, placing their plan to capture Hannibal firmly outside the official sanction of law-enforcement. The “bogeyman” narrative is further undermined by the series' title – Hannibal . The focus is clearly on the criminal rather than the detective figure, and indicates that the criminal character will assume the role of a protagonist that viewers will be invited to become in invested in. The series' focus on a psychologically non-normative and morally objectionable character has far-reaching implications for its narrative construction. Following broader trends in the development of serial killer stories, Hannibal points out the ease with which the character of Hannibal masquerades as ordinary, while simultaneously sustaining a habit of killing and eating other characters 10 (Peach, 150-53). By focusing on Hannibal's non-normativity and Will's investigations outside the realm of law enforcement, Hannibal shifts the focus of the narratives towards an affective level of storytelling, which more readily lends itself to exploring questions of (queer) identity. One aspect of serial killer narratives that does agree with Hannibal is their potential to undermine the notion of intelligibility that traditional detective fiction offers to audiences (Dyer, The Same 36-37). Since serial killers' motives are often not easily understandable and identifiable (such as greed or jealousy), but are instead described as difficult to define psychological urges, the narratives surrounding them tend to deny audiences rational explanations for the killers' actions (ibid.). This rejection of easy answers to questions viewers may have also fits in with the genre of the metaphysical detective story. This genre focuses on asking questions about truth, evidence, and knowledge, typically without providing conclusive answers (Brownson, 159; Gates, 188-89). Philippa Gates names five characteristics of the metaphysical detective story that are mostly reflected in Hannibal 's narrative presentation: a non-heroic detective who is defeated by the end of the story, a labyrinthine story world, ambiguous or meaningless clues and evidence, doubles or exchanged identities, and an absence of closure to the central investigation (188-89). To the extent that the character of Will can be understood as a detective, he is not presented as heroic; he is shown making morally questionable choices to further his own aims, especially in the third season. While he is often successful in aiding the capture of murderers, he fails to remove the threat that Hannibal poses to society, mostly because he is shown wanting to help Hannibal escape traditional concepts of justice, such as when he admits that he “wanted to run aw ay with him” (3.04 “Aperitivo”). The story world and the clues within it are often presented in ambiguous ways that are interpreted through Will's intuition rather than concrete data and evidence. Furthermore, Hannibal is often portrayed as Will's gothic double, with their identities being swapped completely in the second

10 Hannibal's double identity links the character directly to Butler's argument that identities are always constructed in society (Butler, 10).

13 season, where Will is imprisoned and Hannibal takes on Will's role as adviser to the FBI 11 . Lastly, Hannibal 's central investigation, which poses questions about Hannibal's identity, remains without result or closure at the series' close. The metaphysical detective genre points to a current, postmodern understanding of knowledge as something that is created and changeable rather than universally given and fixed (Brownson, 176). In this way, Hannibal mirrors queer theory's argument that identities do not adhere to the strict definitions often used to describe them, instead complicating the roles of detective and villain and dissolving the boundaries between them. Hannibal employs various genre traditions, and in many cases subverts or alters them, which makes any classification of the series in generic terms difficult. Whether a strict classification of Hannibal as belonging to one genre rather than another, is helpful in an investigation of the series' queer potential is questionable.

2.2 Visuality, “Reality”, and Ambiguity The character of Hannibal is presented almost exclusively through the eyes of Will, while few scenes follow Hannibal without Will's presence. It is through Will that viewers are introduced to the series' plot, which in the first season is more centred around the investigation of various murder cases than in the two later seasons. The audience is taken into the world of the FBI by Will, who is asked to consult on a case by Jack. The audience learns new story-world information alongside the character of Will, which encourages viewers to identify with him. Significantly though, due to the popularity of the novels and films of the Hannibal Lecter franchise, the audience can be expected to know from the beginning that Hannibal is perhaps the most dangerous serial killer in the series, while Will only acquires that knowledge later. Viewers are encouraged to become invested in the character of Will through insights into his emotions and vulnerable mental state. The knowledge gap between the character and the audience may encourage viewers to pay special attention to early interactions between Will and Hannibal, since the latter poses a potential threat to the protagonist. Since the two characters are shown to form a close relationship early on in the series, Will's point of view effects a sense of “being in collusion with Hannibal” (Logsdon, 51). Despite the audience's knowledge of Hannibal's cannibalistic actions, the presentation of the character through Will's eyes makes it difficult not to care more deeply about Hannibal than might be considered typical for serial killer characters. Logsdon comments that Hannibal, through Will's point of view, is constructed as a character who “is not, and may never have been, entirely what or who the viewer thought he was” (64). Hannibal, much like the series' genre, is not easily definable or classifiable.

11 See chapter 3 for a discussion of how the characters of Will and Hannibal are presented to merge into one.

14 The series is rooted in a gothic visual style around the artistic display of corpses and elaborate meals, and through the audience's knowledge of Hannibal's cannibalism, there is a clear connection between the two (Donovan, 47; Ionita, 27). Hannibal often favours this focus on visuality over narrative progress, such as in “Mizumono”, when extreme close-ups on Alana's face show a tear running down her cheek before falling onto the glass surface of a table. As the single drop hits a small pool of tears on the table, it takes on a deep red colour reminiscent of blood.

Screenshot 1: Alana's tear hits the table, apparently mixing blood with tears (2.13 “Mizumono”, 15:24).

Screenshot 2: An extreme close-up of blood mixing with the tears on the table, highlighting the visual over the progression of the narrative (2.13 “Mizumono”, 15:30). Another extreme close-up fills the screen with an image of the two liquids dissolving into each other (2.13 “Mizumono”). This sequence does not further the episode's plot but rather functions as a visualisation of Alana's feelings of having been betrayed by Hannibal. Similar imagery is used later in the same episode, after the character of Alana has been pushed out of a window and lies injured

15 on the ground. A shot from her perspective shows heavy rain falling in slow motion, and the individual rain drops' colour changes to a dark red so that they resemble blood falling from the sky (ibid.). These breaks in the plot highlight the series' focus on characters' feelings, setting it apart from the focus on rationality and progression in the central investigation one would expect in more traditional detective narratives. This focus on characters' “inner worlds” foregrounds their shifting identities and opens up possibilities for the presentation and exploration of queerness. The idea of fluid identities is also represented in the series' opening sequence, which consists of close-ups of splashes of a red liquid. The liquid takes the form of a ribcage and is then shown taking the shape of a human head. Different shots allow viewers to recognise the heads of Jack, Will, and Hannibal but significantly, the images are never quite clear, the liquid never completing the shapes it creates, so that viewers can always see the white background through the characters' heads.

Screenshot 3: Hannibal's face in the series' opening sequence. Note the choice of red liquid, resembling blood, and the "unfinished" presentation of the face (1.08 “Fromage”, 03:14).

Screenshot 4: Will's face in the opening sequence. The fluid assumes the shape of his head without establishing clear boundaries to the white background (1.08 “Fromage”, 03:12).

16 The opening sequence functions as a first hint at the series' emphasis on ambiguous, fluid states of being, as the liquid is always in motion, just like the characters in the series are shown to constantly change and evolve. Hannibal rejects a rigid understanding of identities as fixed and stable, and makes this clear in its opening sequence. The sequence also introduces viewers to the series' visual aesthetic. With its focus on visuality, Ionita sees Hannibal as being driven by an operatic narrative structure that highlights characters' emotional states and poetic dialogue rather than those elements of plot progression usually found in crime-centred series (24-28). Hannibal 's narrative structure finds its closest equivalent “not in film or literary fiction, but rather in opera – a form of storytelling that is predicated on a permanent tension between the dramatic and the lyrical” (Ionita, 26). This operatic mode of storytelling is further underlined by the use of opera and classical music on the series' soundtrack. Scenes depicting Hannibal cooking or presenting his dinner guests with (cannibalistic) meals are often set to Bach, especially the Goldberg Variations, which are used in several episodes of the series. Hannibal 's focus on characters' psychology and interpersonal relationships instead of the progression of investigative plot elements is also emphasised by the blurring-together of the story- world's reality, imagined scenes, and hallucinations. Will is frequently shown closing his eyes, and the implication is that the following scenes, which show him committing the murders he tries to solve, are set solely in his imaginatio n. A scene in “Fromage”, in which Will investigates the murder of a musician, is exemplary of the series' construction of the character's inner world. The victim's body is displayed on the Baltimo re symphony's stage, and Will is left alone with the corpse as other investigators leave to allow him to work on his own. Will is shown approaching the victim, and the lights behind him in the auditorium are dimmed as he closes his eyes, focusing viewers' attention on him. A wide shot shows the victim centre-stage, well-lit, as the surrounding lights are dimmed down

Screenshot 5: Will closes his eyes as he investigates the victim. The lighting directs viewers' attention to his face (1.08 “Fromage”, 08:10). 17 further. After another shot of Will with his eyes closed, the screen goes dark, and a bright yellow pendulum swings from side to side. The pendulum is used from the first episode onwards to indicate that Will is investigating a scene in his mind, highlighting the importance of this blending- together of the character's imagination and the story-world's reality. A cut to Will's face shows him opening his eyes and walking backwards, away from the body. He takes a seat in the auditorium and closes his eyes again, and the camera cuts to a close-up of the victim's throat and face, Will now standing behind him. As Will narrates the murderer's actions, he is shown carrying them out on screen, mutilating the body. Will speaks of himself as the killer, assuming the murderer's subject position: “I open his throat from the inside, using the neck of a cello […] I wanted to play him. I wanted to create a sound. My sound” (1.8 “Fromage”). Will “investigates” crime scenes with his eyes closed, pointing to the pre-eminence of imagined over factual actions in the series. These imagined scenes are, at the same time, flashbacks, that inform viewers about the ways in which crimes were committed. Importantly Will, visually replacing the actual murderer, re-enacts those murders in a way that resembles precisely choreographed classical dance routines. This portrayal of the (imagined) act of killing as a dance, often shown in slow motion, once again underlines the series' emphasis on art, artifice, and aesthetics, and the blurring of Will's internal world and the “reality” of the story-world.

Screenshot 6: Will takes on the position of the murderer and "plays" on the victim after inserting a cello's neck through his throat (1.08 “Fromage”, 09:41).

Will is also shown to be prone to hallucinations, such as in “Fromage” where he (and the audience) repeatedly hears the cries of a wounded animal that no other character can hear (1.08 “Fromage”). These hallucinations undermine Will's reliability as a narrator and character, and later episodes of the first season address this theme overtly. In “Savoureux” he is accused of killing the character of Abigail ( Kacey Rohl) and when Will states that he hallucinated killing her, viewers

18 cannot be certain whether the hallucination was “real” (1.13 “Savoureux”). The unreliable presentation of actions through Will's point of view is stressed again in the same episode, when Alana asks him to draw a clock. Over-the-shoulder shots of Will show him drawing a normal clock, which he turns over to Alana. A cut to her side of the table reveals a distorted drawing of a clock with all the numbers on one side, making it clear to viewers that Will's perspective is not reliable in this scene (ibid.). While Will's inability to draw a clock correctly is explained by the character suffering from encephalitis in season one, his psychology remains non-normative throughout the series. There is a tendency in crime-related television series to portray mental illness as both a curse and a gift (Meier, 128-29). Series such as Monk (USA Network, 2002-2009) and Sherlock (BBC One, 2010-2017) depict their investigator-protagonists as psychologically troubled characters who are able to solve crimes and mysteries not despite of, but precisely because of their mental illness. Hannibal similarly presents Will's unusually high empathy, which allows him to imagine himself as any other character and understand the reasons for their actions, as the reason for his successful work with the FBI. At the same time, the series addresses the negative aspects of exhibiting a non- normative psychological makeup: Will suffers from nightmares, hallucinations, and a decreasingly stable sense of self. Other characters, such as Jack and Alana, who are shown to care about Will, are unable to help him with his psychological distress in any significant way. Hannibal thus establishes Will as a character who suffers from his psychological non-normativity more than he benefits from it, unlike the main characters on Monk and Sherlock . The character is presented as not quite fitting into normative society, and this portrayal of Will as “other” marks him as queer. Will is constructed in such a way that the character challenges rather than supports straightforward crime-solving narratives, opening the series up to exploring alternative forms of knowledge-generation. Susan Rowland links the preparation of home-cooked meals, often shown in Hannibal , to femininity, trusting instincts over other types of knowledge, and the re-establishment of order to society (163-165; 169). Hannibal presents viewers with a psychopathic serial killer who uses parts of his victims in his cooking. The elaborate meals he creates are often shared with other, unsuspecting, characters as a way of building relationships with them (Fuchs & Phillips, 210-11). Hannibal is shown to take great pride in his cooking, but instead of restoring order through the preparation of meals, he disrupts and undermines it by including human flesh in the dishes he serves to other characters. The traditionally feminine-connoted act of preparing meals for a group of people is transformed into a deliberate source of abject horror (Kristeva, 2-3). Hannibal dissolves and rejects the notion of heteronormative femininity associated with cooking in a detective environment as suggested by Rowland, and turns it into an exercise of boundary transgression. Furthermore, Hannibal's cannibalism is detected by Will through empathy and intuition, forms of

19 knowledge that are often coded as feminine (Rowland, 163-65). Will's inability to ever bring Hannibal to justice within the legal system is linked to the series' treatment of knowledge, and its construction of queerness: “the show generates a kind of queer unknowing, a refusal to occupy traditional knowledge structures uncritically” (Donovan, 55). Knowledge and reality are fluid in Hannibal , which is often underlined by characters being shown in purely imagined environments. During Will's imprisonment in season two, he is repeatedly shown standing in a river, fishing, and only cuts to him standing in his cell make it clear that the nature scenes are set completely in the character's mind (2.01 “Kaiseki”). Similarly, when Hannibal is imprisoned in season three, Will speaks to him in his cell but the characters are instead shown standing in a church, adding visual grandeur to the scene (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”). The series often presents viewers with dimly lit sets, favouring dark, saturated colours and deep shadows that disallow the audience to clearly see everything within the frame. Like the scenes set inside characters' imagination, this darkness becomes more and more ubiquitous over the course of the series and supports its increasingly dream-like narrative presentation. Along with the increased use of flashbacks, the plot becomes more fragmented as the series progresses, undermining linearity and focusing viewer's attention on the aesthetic presentation of characters' relationships and transgressions of societal and moral boundaries. Will's unreliable point of view as a central character and the series' focus on imagined rather than “real” settings for scenes, facilitates queer readings and the construction of queer characters, relationships, and storylines. The seamless transitions between dreams, hallucinations, and reality in the series foster a general climate of ambiguity that reflects queer theory's insistence on fluid, constantly re-negotiated, boundaries.

2.3 Failed Families and Rejecting Heteronormativity The only romantic relationship that “survives” the series is that of Alana and Margot, and tellingly they are the only characters who appear to be raising a child successfully. Marykate Messimer argues that heteronormativity is effectively erased in Hannibal as a response to the constant erasure of queer identities in normative media (179). She centres this sense of erasure around the repeated depictions of failed heteronormative relationships and families in the series (ibid.). Will's romantic interest in Alana in the first season is shown to be reciprocated, but she ultimately rejects him due to his psychological instability. After a narrative gap of three years in the third season, Will is shown to have married Moll y (Nina Arianda). He leaves her and her son behind in order to investigate the murders committed by Dolarhyde, and in the final episode joins Hannibal in his escape from justice. There is no indication of Will planning to return to his wife, and the series' ending renders such a

20 reunion unlikely. The only healthy heterosexual relationship in the series, that of Jack and his wife Bella (Gina Torres), ends when Bella dies of cancer. Heteronormative families are unsuccessful in Hannibal as well. The series begins with the investigation of the “Minnesota Shrike”, a.k.a. Garret Jacob Hobbs, who kills young women who look like his daughter Abigail. When he is cornered by Will at the end of the first episode, Hobbs murders his wife and attempts to kill Abigail before being shot to death by Will. The fourth episode of season one deals with a woman who attempts to create a family by kidnapping boys and manipulating them into killing their biological families (1.04 “Oeuf”). The murder of affluent (white) American families is also addressed in the second half of season three, when Dolarhyde murders two families and Will is tasked to identify the murderer before another family is killed. This threat to the normative American family is adapted from Harris' Red Dragon , which also presents Dolarhyde as killing upper middle-class families consisting of a mother, a father, and three children. The series, however, treats this threat to American society differently than the novel. The novel focuses on the nuclear family's central figure, the mother (Molly), killing Dolarhyde and thus removing him as threat to her family. The image of the re-united family is especially important in the film adaptation of Red Dragon , which shows Will, Molly, and their son spending a carefree day on a boat at the end of the film. Here, the restoration of order to Will's heteronormative family is presented as the ultimate win over the threat Dolarhyde posed. In the series, however, when Dolarhyde plans to kill Molly and her son, they escape without engaging in direct contact with him (3.11 “… And the Beast from the Sea”). When Will and Hannibal kill Dolarhyde, there is no mention of Molly, and a restoration of order to her family seems highly unlikely. It is noteworthy as well that neither Will nor Hannibal's biological families are mentioned in the series, except to let viewers know that Will grew up in relative poverty, and Hannibal's sister Mischa was murdered and eaten by a man when they were both children. Attempts at building families are also frequently depicted as failing in the series. The Verger family, consisting of the siblings Margot and Mason (Michael Pitt in season two, Joe Anderson in season three) is presented as the ultimate failure of heteronormativity. Margot, who wishes to kill Mason for the abuse she suffers from him, explains that she cannot inherit their father's property because his will specifies the need for a male he ir (2.10 “Naka-choko”). Mason tells her: “You're all I have. And I'm all you have”, and later explains to Hannibal that Margot being a lesbian was the reason for their father's insistence on a male heir (ibid.). While talking to Hannibal about the family business of breeding pigs, Mason argues: “Breeding was very important to my father. Margot really pissed him off with all her… button stitching – no breeding there” (ibid.). The series likens the breeding of pigs for consumption to human reproduction with the aim of ensuring the endurance of

21 prominent rich families. When Margot plans to become pregnant by Will so that she can kill Mason and inherit the family business (by having a son), Mason hires a surgeon to remove her uterus (2.11 “Ko No Mono”). While lamenting her inability to “breed” due to her queer identity, Mason, the symbol of rigid heteronormativity, takes away Margot's uterus to punish her for becoming pregnant outside of his control. In a conversation between the two characters in a later episode, Mason stresses that he wishes for their family legacy to be continued by a child:

MASON: I wish I could give you a Verger baby, our own baby, yours and mine. We could raise it together. MARGOT: The last time you said you wanted to have a baby you removed my uterus. MASON: In my defence, you weaponised your uterus. You shouldn't have been waving it around like a loaded pistol. (3.06 “Dolce”)

The over-the-top language in this dialogue, with Mason's insistence that Margot “weaponised” her uterus against him, again points to the artificiality of heteronormativity. Heteronormative structures force Margot into a position that make her sleep with Will despite being a lesbian, in order to become pregnant and rid herself of her brother, who constantly denies her agency. Mason's wish to have “a Verger baby, our own baby, yours and mine” raises the character's insistence on seeing the family name live on to the level of incest. His control over Margot's ability to have children is further emphasised when Mason reveals that he harvested Margot's egg cells and has found her a surrogate so that she can have a child (3.07 “Digestivo”). Tellingly, the surrogate mother is revealed to be a pig, again linking human reproduction to the breeding of livestock. When Margot and Alana

Screenshot 7: Margot and Alana discover the surrogate pig. Note the mobile hanging over the pig, made up of several small pig sculptures, mimicking art for the visual stimulation of newborn babies (3.07 “Digestivo”, 28:30).

22 are shown discovering the pig surrogate, both the pig and the human embryo it is carrying are dead. The series portrays Margot's struggle to gain independence from her brother in a way that encourages viewers to sympathise with her by portraying Mason as thoroughly sadistic, such as when he makes a small boy cry so that he can collect his tears and drink them in a cocktail (2.11 “Ko No Mono”). Margot succeeds in having a son in the end, which is portrayed as a decisive victory in the series. She is able to procure Mason's sperm when he is anaesthetised for surgery, as Alana explains to him: “Do you know what happens if we stimulate your prostate gland with a cattle prod? Hannibal does. He helped us milk you” (3.07 “Digestivo”). Hannibal's expert knowledge of prostate stimulation and the implied scene of him and two queer women obtaining Mason's sperm significantly queers the entire concept of reproduction. Alana becomes pregnant with Margot's child (via Mason's sperm) and the two women successfully take over the Verger family business. In a later episode Hannibal addresses his own attempt at forming a family with Will, stating that “I gave you a child”, insisting “you're family, Will” in reference to his plan to escape from the FBI with Will and Abigail at the end of season two (3.09 “… And the Woman Clothed With the Sun”). After realising that Will worked with the FBI to capture Hannibal, Hannibal cuts Abigail's throat, killing her the same way her father tried to kill her in the series' first episode (2.13 “Mizumono”). Hannibal and Will fail to form a (queer) family and Hannibal points out that Will failed to have biological children as well when he comments on his marriage to Molly, a woman who already had a child: “Ready-made wife and child to serve your needs. A stepson, or daughter… A stepson absolves you of any biological blame. You know better than to breed – can't pass on those terrible traits you fear the most.” (3.09 “… And the Woman Clothed With the Sun”). Hannibal makes it clear that he does not believe that having biological children would be an option for Will,

Screenshot 8: Hobbs threatens to cut his daughter Abigail's throat in the series' first episode (1.01 “Apéritif”, 37:46). 23 Screenshot 9: Hannibal kills Abigail by cutting her throat at the end of season 2, standing behind her as her father did in the first episode (2.13 “Mizumono”, 37:03). since his children might inherit his darkest urges 12 . Will cannot engage in building a heteronormative family successfully because his non-normative psychology poses a danger to society, and the series shows him abandoning his wife and adoptive son in season three. Hannibal constantly presents viewers with characters who try to build families within the heteronormative structures of society, only to fail again and again. The only successful family, that of Margot, Alana, and their son, is a reaction to, and rejection of heteronormativity, but despite their success, they are forced into exile at the end of the series' third season, when Hannibal escapes imprisonment and threatens to kill Alana (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”). Hannibal refuses to perpetuate heteronormativity by presenting it as the ideal model for forming partnerships and raise children, and instead systematically depicts the failures of such families. The series' narrative presentation functions as a basis for the series' queer potential, which becomes even more clear when taking into consideration its portrayal of individual characters and their actions.

12 For a discussion of Will as a character, his development over the course of the series, and the traits Hannibal mentions in this quote, see chapter 3.

24 3. Characters

Throughout the series, Hannibal 's central characters are constructed in a way that continuously undermines expectations the audience may have regarding their motivations and behaviours. Hannibal is presented as a paradoxical character, capable of both extreme violence and warm companionship, while the character of Will becomes increasingly unstable and difficult to define as the series progresses. The relationship between Hannibal and Will is represented by the feathered stag Will dreams of in the early episodes of the series, and developments in the relationship are mirrored in the stag's transformation into a man-like figure with antlers. This figure and the relationship it represents will be considered as its own character, indicative of the way in which Will and Hannibal are shown to blend together in the series' later episodes. This undermining of the boundaries that separate the two characters is integral to the ways in which the series constructs their queerness.

3.1 Hannibal, the Paradox Hannibal's introduction in the first episode of season one establishes the characters as paradoxical. He is first shown on screen after Will realises that organs of the “Minnesota Shrike” serial killer's victims are eaten by the murderer. After Will verbally confirms to Jack that the killer is a cannibal, the episode cuts to a shot of Hannibal's dinner table, slowly revealing the character through the camera tilting up from his hands cutting meat on his plate and lifting his fork to his mouth. For

Screenshot 10: Hannibal is introduced as he takes a bite of his meal. The scene is set in relative darkness, hinting at the character's mysterious identity as a cannibal (1.01 “Apéritif”, 21:08). 25 viewers, he is visually associated with the cannibalism Will describes in the previous scene, and at this point in the series it is unclear that the killer Will investigates is not Hannibal but Garret Jacob Hobbs. Viewers cannot be certain whether the meat Hannibal is shown eating in this scene is from an animal or a person. He chews, smiles, and appears to look directly into the camera (1.01 “Apéritif”). This establishes an uneasy link between the character and the audience, who can be expected to know of Hannibal's cannibalism already, due to the popularity of Harris' novels and

Screenshot 11: Hannibal appears to look directly into the camera, but the shadows around his eyes render the precise direction of his gaze ambiguous (1.01 “Apéritif”, 21:16). their filmic adaptations. Hannibal appears as a threatening character in this first scene, mysterious due to the scene's darkness and the lack of dialogue, yet clearly dangerous through his association with murder and cannibalism. The next scene, however, shows Hannibal in his psychiatric office, calmly speaking to a patient. His light-blue suit and cream shirt and tie, as well as the well-lit office space juxtapose the darkness of the previous scene, and present the character as capable of helping his distressed patient (ibid.). Through this stark contrast between the character's first two scenes in the series, Hannibal is presented as inhabiting two seemingly contradictory roles: the callous cannibal and the helpful psychiatrist. Richard Logsdon points out that the opposing impressions of Hannibal that viewers are presented with early on in the series “may create a certain level of ambiguity that derives from a tension between the beast that the viewer knows Hannibal to be and the man who manifests certain qualities that make him distinctly human” (51). Hannibal is never presented to be only a cruel murderer, or only a good friend and skilled psychiatrist – he is always shown to be both, despite the seemingly contradictory nature of such a combination. The idea of Hannibal as a ruthless killer runs through the series from the very beginning. In the first episode, as Will investigates the murderer who turns out to be Hobbs, Hannibal kills a young woman and leaves her body in a field, mounted on a stag's antlers. Will, presented with this

26 image, quickly realises that the woman was not killed by the same person he is investigating. When another character points out that the killer took the victim's lungs, a cut to Hannibal in his kitchen shows him squeezing the air out of said lungs on a cutting board. Back in the field, Will states: “Our cannibal loves women! He doesn't want to destroy them […]. This girl's killer thought that she was a pig” (1.01 “Apéritif”). Hannibal is thus established in contrast to the other killer and his apparent love for his victims. Choosing to describe the victim as being seen as a pig by Hannibal paints him as being utterly disrespectful of human life. Another cut to Hannibal in his kitchen shows him cooking the cut-up pieces of lung in a frying pan, his calm demeanour contrasting Will's agitation in the field, highlighting Hannibal's cruelty. A shot of him eating the fried lungs and smiling further underlines this presentation of the character as heartless, and possibly devoid of basic empathy, which effectively presents him in opposition to Will in this episode, since Will is shown to be driven by his unusually high level of empathy (ibid.). Hannibal is presented here as a monstrous character who poses a direct threat to society. At the beginning of the second season, this notion of Hannibal being capable of callous murder and cannibalism takes on a new tone, when he discusses his friendship with Will with his own psychiatrist, Bedelia du Maurier (Gillian Anderson). After manipulating the FBI into believing that Will committed the murders Hannibal is responsible for at the end of the previous season, Hannibal is shown putting on a mask of confusion and hurt in the second season's first episode. Hannibal tells Bedelia that he misses Will (who is imprisoned), and after she states that Hannibal is “obsessed with Will Graham” (2.01 “Kaiseki”) the following dialogue unfolds:

HANNIBAL: Will is my friend. BEDELIA: Why? Why is he your friend? HANNIBAL: He sees his own mentality as grotesque but useful, like a chair of antlers. He can't repress who he is. There's an honesty in that I admire. BEDELIA: I imagine there is an honesty in that you can relate to. What can't you repress, Hannibal? (2.01 “Kaiseki”)

Bedelia asking what Hannibal cannot repress is, on the dialogue's surface level, clearly linked to his cannibalism. Will is presented as the serial killer and cannibal the FBI had been investigating, and Bedelia is shown suspecting that Hannibal might not be as innocent as he appears to be. At the same time, the ambiguous way in which the dialogue is written (never naming what exactly it is that Will and Hannibal cannot repress), lets the characters' words take on a queer undertone. The unspoken concept of cannibalism is, in this scene, interchangeable with same-sex desire. Hiding one's true self, as Hannibal is doing here, is often linked to the notion of the closet and hiding queer desires in

27 order to live free from discrimination in a heteronormative society. Hannibal is shown hiding his cannibalism by blaming it on Will. One might note that murder and cannibalism are far worse transgressions of social norms than queer sexuality, and would be met by imprisonment and possibly the death sentence, but at the same time it is important not to forget that Hannibal relies on modes of presenting its queer villain often seen during the days of censorship by the Hays' Code (Donovan, 45-47). This sets the series in a context where sexual non-conformity places characters (and real people) at considerable risk. Reading Hannibal and Bedelia's exchange in this scene as having a queer double-meaning is thus not out of place, but fitting in the scene's context. The theme of Hannibal hiding is further emphasised by a juxtaposition of viewers' knowledge of his guilt and close-ups of the character's face, which create an illusion of hurt honesty. Additionally, shots of Bedelia show her in front of a light-beige background, lit by the window behind her, whereas Hannibal sits on the darker side of the room. His face is framed by darkness, obscuring his surroundings, hinting at the character's sinister ulterior motives (2.01 “Kaiseki”).

Screenshot 12: Hannibal is surrounded by darkness in Bedelia's office (2.01 “Kaiseki”, 12:23).

In a different episode, Bedelia points out that Hannibal is not being honest with her, and remarks that he is “wearing a very well-tailored person suit”, drawing attention to the artifice of his constructed persona (1.07 “Sorbet”). Hannibal is presented as being highly aware of the “mask” he wears in order to pass as ordinary in society, which directly links the character to Butler's argument that gender, in its relation to normativity, is performative (33). Portraying the character of Hannibal as being self-aware in his active performance of masculinity, citizenship, and innocence, establishes a strong connection between the character and non-normative sexual and gender identities 13 .

13 While Butler's concept of performativity describes the construction of gender expression through repeated actions that individuals might not be fully aware of, performance in this case refers to a more active, self-aware expression of (gendered) identity markers related to achieving a particular goal, such as being perceived as a member of a

28 This construction of his personality also comes into play in Hannibal 's treatment of art and music. Hannibal, posing as an ordinary citizen is associated with high art, especially classical music, from his introduction onward. When the camera first reveals him eating at his dinner table in the first episode, the aria of Bach's Goldberg Variations accompanies the scene (1.01 “Apéritif”), linking the series' Hannibal to his prior incarnations in the films, which often used the piece to present Hannibal as a music-loving character (Cenciarelli, 108). Cenciarelli points to villains' association with classical music in Hollywood (ibid.), while Donovan states that villainy and queerness are historically entwined in Hollywood cinema (44). There is a clear link between classical music and opera, portrayals of queer villainy, and the construction of the character of Hannibal (Donovan, 44-47; 50-51; Ionita, 26-27). Classical music also connects Hannibal to another possibly queer serial killer in the series. In “Sorbet” Hannibal is shown meeting his patient Franklyn (Dan Fogler) and his friend Tobias (Demore Barnes) at an opera charity event. The scene of this meeting further strengthens associations of Hannibal with “high art”. He discusses hosting one of his “exquisite” dinner parties with another character, which links his cooking and entertaining of the cultural elite to his cannibalism (1.07 “Sorbet”). The next episode shows Will investigating a murder at the Baltimore symphony, and Franklyn tells Hannibal that he suspects Tobias of being the murderer (1.08 “Fromage”). Through the character of Tobias the opera is connected to queer sexuality, when Hannibal asks Franklyn if he desires Tobias sexually (1.07 “Sorbet”). Tobias is presented as a possible queer object of desire, which is underlined by Hannibal arguing that Franklyn, who is shown to be deeply fascinated by Hannibal, may be attracted to psychopaths (1.08 “Fromage”). “Fromage” reveals that Tobias uses his victims' guts in the production of strings for the musical instruments he sells in his shop. Like Hannibal he makes use of his victims' innards, further linking murder and Hannibal to (classical) music. When Hannibal visits Tobias in his shop they talk about music, and Hannibal points out that both characters are “comfortable playing between conventional notes” (1.08 “Fromage”). This remark can be read as pertaining to music, murder, and sexuality. The character of Tobias functions as a mirror to Hannibal, and it is worth noting that Hannibal kills Tobias by the end of the episode due to Tobias posing a threat to Hannibal's disguise as a norm-abiding citizen. Dialogues between the two characters allow for the audience to see Hannibal “with his mask off”, interacting with another serial killer who expresses interest in becoming friends. While dialogues between the two characters show Hannibal openly discussing murder with another serial killer, emphasising his ruthlessness certain gender or sexual orientation. Hannibal's successful performance of himself, or rather what he appears to want others to perceive as himself, points to the instability and insufficiency of fixed identity labels. At the same time, it is not only the character who is shown playing with and constructing his identity – addressing Hannibal's “person suit” directly points to the ways in which the series as a whole understands identity – as constructed, unstable, and often ambiguous.

29 and lack of empathy, the episode ends with Hannibal lying to Will and Jack when he claims that he killed Tobias solely in self-defence. In this scene, Will sits on Hannibal's desk, while Hannibal sits on a chair, forcing him to look up to Will to talk to him. Hannibal is shown to be in a vulnerable position in Will's eyes, while the audience is aware of Hannibal having manipulated the situation to maintain his appearance of innocence, once again highlighting how the character of Hannibal carefully constructs his persona (1.08 “Fromage”). The portrayal of Hannibal as vulnerable and seemingly earnest in his emotions is carried on throughout the series, as he is shown to manipulate other characters to his advantage. In “Savoureux” (1.13) he cries in therapy with Bedelia after pretending to find out about Will being responsible for several murders. A close-up of his face underlines the apparent authenticity of the character's sadness. While viewers are aware of Hannibal having effected the situation he seems to cry about in this episode, thus underlining the dishonesty of his portrayal of sadness, other scenes in the series present the character as similarly vulnerable, but arguably more sincere. In the series' final episode, Hannibal, in dialogue with Will argues: “My compassion for you is inconvenient” (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”). Here, Hannibal is presented as capable of genuine emotions, and the emphasis on inconvenience invites viewers to understand the expressed feeling of compassion as genuine. Will responds: “If you're partial to beef products, it's inconvenient to be compassionate toward a cow” (ibid.). Hannibal's ability to feel with Will is shown to stand in direct opposition to his cannibalism. Once again, viewers are reminded that Hannibal is both a ruthless serial killer and a compassionate character capable of deep emotions.

3.2 Will's Identity in Flux Similarly to Hannibal, Will is not easy to define as a character. He is shown to undergo several changes to his presented personality and motives throughout the series, and viewers may not always be certain whether they fully understand the character's actions. Will is introduced as the series' central character, and the audience follows much of the action through his point of view. At the same time, the series establishes Will as a character who fluctuates between openness and hiding certain aspects of himself. This is symbolised by how the character wears his glasses, or rather when he wears them. When Jack Crawford recruits him to aid the FBI with the “Minnesota Shrike” case, Will is shown teaching a class. As his students leave and Jack approaches, Will puts on his glasses before shaking Jack's hand. In medium close-ups and over-the-shoulder shots, the camera lets the audience see that Will avoids Jack's eyes, until Jack reaches out and adjusts Will's glasses. The glasses function as a barrier between Will and the outside world, which is emphasised by

30 Hannibal who, in their first meeting, points out that Will is “not fond of eye contact” (1.01 “Apéritif”). Will responds: “Eyes are distracting. You see too much. You don't see enough.” (ibid.). While glasses sharpen the wearer's vision and allow them to see the world more clearly, Will takes his glasses off whenever he investigates a crime scene and imagines himself in the place of murderers. His inner world is shown to be in focus when he is not wearing glasses, while in his waking moments, they function as a barrier he puts into place whenever he is shown to be uncomfortable in the presence of other characters. As is the case with Hannibal, portraying Will as consciously hiding parts of his identity connects the character to the image of the closet. The notion of Will's identity remaining hidden behind his glasses is further supported by Will and other characters describing him in various ways throughout the series. In the first episode, Alana and Jack agree that Will is driven by fear, and Hannibal tells Will that Jack sees him as “a fragile little teacup”, while Hannibal himself perceives Will as “the mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by” (1.01 “Apéritif”). The first episode thus provides viewers with multiple characterisations of Will through others. Later, the first half of the second season focuses on several characters repeatedly discussing whether Will is to be seen as guilty for the crimes he appears to have committed. There is no consensus among the characters closest to him about his guilt or innocence, and when Hannibal argues that “we can't define Will only by his maddest edges”, Jack pointedly remarks: “We can't define Will – at all” (2.01 “Kaiseki”). Will himself is shown to oscillate between confusion about his state of mind, and clarity on being innocent of the murders he stands accused of. Having escaped from FBI custody, Will seeks out Hannibal in his office and the following dialogue occurs:

HANNIBAL: Hello, Will. How are you feeling? WILL: Self-aware. HANNIBAL: You frightened Alana Bloom. WILL: She's confused about who I am, which I can relate to. Are you confused about who I am? HANNIBAL: I'm not confused, I'm skeptical. (1.13 “Savoureux”)

Will's identity is constantly questioned by himself and others, not just concerning the question of his innocence. The first episode establishes him as being on the Aspergers spectrum, stressing his psychological non-normativity, and when Jack asks whether Will can empathise with narcissists and sociopaths, Will responds: “I can empathise with anyone” (1.01 “Apéritif”). He explains this ability by saying that he has an active imagination, which is later discussed by Alana and Jack when she points out that fear is the price that Will pays for imagination. The character of Alana is portrayed as worried about Will, and she warns Jack against letting Will “get too close” to the crimes he

31 investigates (ibid.). Will's empathy ability is presented as making him vulnerable to losing himself in the minds of murderers, and when he is accused of having killed several other characters, the discussion about his guilt or innocence centres around his unstable mental state. Will admits that, had he been accused of only killing Abigail, “I would have believed that I got so far inside Hobbs' head that I couldn't get out” (1.13 “Savoureux”). The character's empathy is shown to make his identity blend with the minds and motives of the murderers he investigates, especially the cannibal he shoots in the first episode, Garret Jacob Hobbs. Will's identity is thus permeable and in constant flux, so that it cannot be fully understood by himself, other characters, or the series' audience. The influence that other characters are shown to have on Will is additionally emphasised in his parallel relationships with Hannibal and Jack in season two. Will and Jack plot to prove that Hannibal is a serial killer by placing Will in the position of a double agent who pretends to follow Hannibal's lead into a life of murder and cannibalism. It is, however, unclear to the audience which character's “side” Will stands on. In “Naka-choko”, Will has killed and publicly displayed a serial killer, Randall Tier (Mark O'Brien), who attacked him in the previous episode. He is shown seemingly investigating the displayed body, while Jack and Hannibal stand on either side of him. Will characterises himself through the dialogue between the three characters:

WILL: He knew his killer. There is a… familiarity here. Someone who met him, understood him. Someone like him. Different pathology, same instinct. JACK: This killer empathised with him? WILL: Don't mistake understanding for empathy, Jack. No, if there's anything it's… it's envy. JACK: Envy? WILL: Randall Tier came into his own much easier than whoever killed him. HANNIBAL: This is a fledgling killer. He's never killed before. Not like this. WILL: Not like this, no. This is the nightmare that followed him out of his dreams. (2.10 “Naka-choko”)

The emphasis on empathy in the dialogue marks Will as guilty of the crime, since he is the character most associated with empathy in the series. He points out that Tier, a serial killer, and his murderer (Will) are alike and share the same instinct (to kill). The dialogue presents Will as changing, developing into a killer. This is supported by Hannibal's remark that the killer is a “fledgling”, associating Will with a young bird taking flight for the first time. Will describes his feelings towards Tier as envy, and rejects Jack's idea that the killer empathised with his victim, stressing that Will has moved beyond simply empathising with killers, and is instead becoming one himself. He no longer needs to imagine being a killer, since that “nightmare” has “followed him out of his dreams” into

32 reality. While he describes himself, Will is positioned at the centre of the frame in a medium shot, with Jack and Hannibal standing slightly further to the back on either side of him, evoking the image of a shoulder angel and devil (ibid.). Their opposition is further highlighted in a parallel

Screenshot 13: Will discusses Tier's murderer as Jack and Hannibal listen, both looking at Will (2.10 “Naka-choko”, 09:28). conversation Will is shown to have with both characters in “Mizumono”. While Jack hopes to capture Hannibal, Hannibal plans to kill Jack, and both characters are shown expecting Will to play a central role in their plans. Through cross-cutting, the two separate scenes of dialogue are shown to be almost identical, which is further underlined by the character of Will wearing the same green shirt in both scenes, and similar close-ups and camera angles being used. The screen is split in half as Hannibal and Jack's voices overlap, asking: “When the moment comes, will you do what needs to be done?” (2.13 “Mizumono”). The characters are shown in a frontal medium shot as they ask the question, and both images are cut in half vertically, so that the right side of Hannibal's face lines up

Screenshot 14: Hannibal (left) and Jack (right) visually blend together, emphasising that both characters count on Will's support (2.13 “Mizumono”, 04:01). 33 with the left half of Jack's face, visually blending the two characters together. The same technique is used on Will as he replies, in both scenes, “oh yes”, thus seemingly combining the two separate identities he had portrayed in relation to Jack and Hannibal before (ibid.). These two seemingly contradictory identities (one that supports Hannibal and one that wants to capture him) undermine readings of Will as a typical investigator figure. Like the character of Hannibal, Will is presented as being complex and difficult to classify. He is shown to be both an investigator and a criminal, appalled by violence and attracted to it, defying the idea that his identity can be defined in simple terms. This duality of Will as a character is summarised by Bedelia in the series' final episode when Will tells her of his plan to fake Hannibal's escape from FBI custody in order to attract and catch Francis Dolarhyde. Bedelia is shown to be unimpressed by the plan:

BEDELIA: Who holds the devil, let him hold him well. He will hardly be caught a second time. WILL: I don't intend Hannibal to be caught a second time. BEDELIA: Can't live with him, can't live without him. Is that what this is? WILL: I guess… this is my becoming. BEDELIA: What you're becoming is pathological. WILL: Extreme acts of cruelty require a high degree of empathy. (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”)

This scene emphasises Will as a non-normative character on at least two axes. Bedelia describes Will's development over the course of the series as pathological, marking him as psychologically “other”. At the same time, Will admits to being connected to Hannibal in a way that does not comfortably allow for him to see him remain incarcerated. Bedelia describes Will's relationship with Hannibal in words often associated with romantic partnerships, pointing to Will's unhealthy dependence on Hannibal. Will's remark about cruelty and empathy entwines the character's identity with Hannibal's: The extreme acts of cruelty Hannibal commits require the high degree of empathy associated with Will. Over the course of the series, Will is portrayed as becoming more and more similar to Hannibal. In “Naka-choko” Will presents Hannibal with meat to prepare for a dinner together, heavily implying that it stems from Freddie Lounds, whom Will pretends to have killed. During their apparently cannibalistic meal, Will addresses the topic of his identity's development, declaring: “You can't reduce me to a set of influences. I'm not the product of anything. I've given up good and evil… for behaviourism” (2.10 “Naka-choko”). In this dialogue, Will is shown to reject the notion that he has become a killer (and possibly cannibal) for any particular reason, thus denying viewers any simple explanation. A frontal close-up of Will's face shows him take a bite of meat off his fork, chew, and close his eyes. For a brief moment, Hannibal's face is visually

34 superimposed on Will's, creating the impression of their faces merging into one. Will's identity is presented in the series as becoming increasingly intertwined with Hannibal's, which renders separate readings of the two characters difficult. As indicated above, the relationship between Will and Hannibal and the merging of the characters is symbolised in the series by the figure of a stag and an antlered man (Ionita, 28). This symbol plays a vital role in the depiction of the characters' queer relationship, and will thus be examined in its own right.

Screenshot 15: A close-up of Will's face as Hannibal's face (most visible on the right side) appears to blend with his (2.10 “Naka-choko”, 40:29).

Screenshot 16: Will and Hannibal's faces have fully merged, forming a new face that reflects their joint identity (2.10 “Naka-choko”, 40:30).

35 3.3 Stag Man and the Raven-Feathered Stag The stag as a symbol undergoes several changes throughout the series, most significantly when it is transformed into a man with antlers, referred to as Stag Man in the series' credits. Its changing appearance also reflects the development of meanings attached to the stag, from Hannibal hiding in plain sight, to the relationship between Will and Hannibal. The stag imagery is introduced in the first episode, when antler velvet is found in one of the “Minnesota Shrike's” victims. Significantly though, it is the victim Hannibal kills in imitation of the “Shrike” that fully cements the link between stags and murder in Hanni bal . A young woman's body is found in a field, impaled by antlers, mounted on the severed head of a stag. The stag head and the victim's body are surrounded by crows, and the combination of these elements creates the image of the raven-feathered stag that appears throughout the series' first two seasons (1.01 “Apéritif”).

Screenshot 17: A woman's body mounted on the antlers of a stag. The scene opens with close-ups of the ravens perched on the body (1.01 “Apéritif”, 27:12).

Screenshot 18: The stag as Will "sees" it through his shower curtain. Note the black feathers on its legs and back (1.01 “Apéritif”, 30:18). 36 The stag is first shown after Will has investigated the displayed body in the field and is taking a shower. In what appears to be a view through his shower curtains, a large black stag, adorned with black feathers, is shown in a dark forest, seemingly looking at Will (ibid.). Over the course of the first season the image of the stag becomes associated with the serial killer who keeps appearing in Will's other investigations. The stag stands in for this serial killer Will cannot quite track down, and while viewers are aware of Hannibal being that murderer, Will is unaware of Hannibal's guilt. In “Fromage” (1.08) Hannibal kills Tobias (the killer associated with the opera) by hitting his head with a small statue of a black stag, and the association of Hannibal with the stag becomes even more pronounced in “Savoureux” (1.13). The episode opens on a night shot in a forest, the camera following Will who is armed with a rifle. A wide shot reveals the stag in the medium distance and it becomes apparent that Will is hunting it. The eerie soundtrack and deep shadows in the scene point to the danger of the situation, which is marked as much more sinister than a typical hunting scene. Will is shown shooting at the stag and running after it through the forest. In a shaky hand-he ld shot, the dark silhouette of a man with antlers is revealed in the place where Will had expected the stag. In a reaction close-up on Will's face viewers can see the character's surprise and shock at what he sees, but as he raises his rifle, a cut reveals that the silhouette has vanished. A series of hand-held close-ups of Will's face, then his back, bloodied branches of a tree, and a pool of blood on the ground, in combination with the soundtrack, build suspense, and a very fast tilt up finally reveals the Stag Man standing close to Will (1.13 “Savoureux”). Throughout the series, the Stag Man is always shown surrounded by shadows, never allowing viewers to see him clearly, which points to his importance as a symbol for Hannibal being unreadable for other characters. “Savoureux” shows Will becoming aware of being manipulated, and suspecting Hannibal. The Stag Man appears when Will is being held in an FBI investigation room where he sees the Stag Man reflected in the one- way mirror, and when he sees him in Hannibal's office. Hannibal talks Will through the murders he

37 is accused of, and Will sees shadows of each of the victims, painted black against the backdrop of Hannibal's office. The Stag Man appears in several shots, always slightly out of focus, lingering at the screen's edge. The “shadows” of the murder victims appear in all black, as does the Stag Man, and Hannibal is shot in front of a bright window so that he appears as a dark silhouette, visually connecting him to both the Stag Man and the victims (1.13 “Savoureux”).

Hannibal and the Stag Man appear as synonymous in the second season, as Will is shown to become increasingly aware of the influence Hannibal has had on him. In “Kaiseki” (2.01) the sound of hooves announces Hannibal walking down the corridor to Will's prison cell, and the stag's legs are shown before Hannibal greets Will. In the same episode, Alana tries to help Will recover memories that might help him understand what happened to him. In a sequence set in Will's mind, he is shown sitting in darkness. There is a flapping of crows' wings, and the camera focuses on close-ups of items on a table: an animal's skull, a snake, the writhing tentacles of an octopus. The

38 camera moves away from Will, across the table, and the Stag Man's antlers come into view, as he is revealed to sit opposite Will at Hannibal's dinner table, making it clear to both Will and viewers that the Stag Man represents Hannibal in Will's imagination (2.01 “Kaiseki”). Similarly, in “Naka- choko”, when Will fights Randall Tier, Tier's face is never shown. Instead, the faces of Hannibal

Screenshot 22: Will sits opposite the Stag Man at Hannibal's dinner table (2.01 “Kaiseki”, 24:54). and the Stag Man alternate in shots, and merge into each other in a close-up. Will symbolically kills Hannibal in this scene, which is emphasised when Hannibal later asks: “When you killed Randall, did you fantasise you were killing me?” (2.10 “Naka-choko”). The association between Hannibal and the Stag Man is an important tool in showing the audience that Will and Hannibal are becoming more alike in season two. Convinced that Hannibal is a murderer, Will, confined to his prison cell, sends another murderer after Hannibal to kill him in “Mukozuke”. A scene in his cell shows antlers growing from Will's back, stressing that by planning to kill Hannibal he has become more similar to him (2.05 “Mukozuke”), and the next episode shows antlers growing from his head and breaking through the roof of the therapy cage he stands in (2.06 “Futamono”). The second season ends in Will and Hannibal betraying each other's trust. Will plans to capture Hannibal with Jack and the FBI, and Hannibal repays him by stabbing him in the stomach. After severely injuring several characters and killing Abigail, Hannibal is shown exiting his house, leaving Will behind. As Will lies wounded on Hannibal's kitchen floor, a point of view shot shows the stag lying on its side, breathing heavily (2.13 “Mizumono”). The stag, as the symbol of the characters' relationship, dies when Hannibal turns his back on Will. It is resurrected in a more abstract form in season three, as Will follows Hannibal to Italy. In the second episode, Hannibal leaves a mutilated corpse in the Roman chapel in Palermo for Will to find. The body has been skinned, its head, feet, and hands removed, and it is arranged to resemble a large human heart, held

39 Screenshot 23: The "heart" Hannibal leaves for Will to find in Palermo (3.02 “Primavera”, 26:28). up by three swords in the centre of the chapel. Will, in a scene reminiscent of the earlier crime- scene investigations, interacts with the “heart” in a dream-like sequence, commenting that it is “a valentine written on a broken man” (3.02 “Primavera”). Will is shown placing a hand on the large heart, and it begins to contract and beat both visibly and audibly. Cuts alternate between Will slowly backing away, and close-ups of the heart unfolding, arms and legs springing free. Where the severed hands and feet should be, hooves grow out of the arms and legs, and a pair of antlers sprouts from the neck in place of a head. The stag-like creature stalks towards Will, who moves further backwards, stumbles and falls, fear on his face. The scene's horror is underlined by a surreal, eerie soundtrack, as well as close-ups on the moving flesh of the corpse, and an emphasis on yellow and green colouring that gives the sequence an unreal, sickly glow (ibid.). The resurrection of the stag in

Screenshot 24: The creature Will sees emerging from the "heart". Antlers have grown from the mutilated body's neck, and hooves take the place of hands and feet (3.02 “Primavera”, 27:13).

40 this fashion points to the key elements of Will and Hannibal's relationship: It is horrific and violent, it eludes reason (the heart stag has no head), and it is communicated in romantic language – talking to his hallucination of Abigail (who had been killed at the end of season two) Will points out that Hannibal “left us his broken heart” (ibid.). The merging-together of the two characters' identities is a queer act, stressing both the instability of individual identities and the possible romantic connection between the characters.

3.4 Will and Hannibal Merging Into One In her examination of Will and Hannibal's relationship, Carroll points out that “distinctions between humanity and monsters are fluid”, emphasising the lack of clear boundaries between the two concepts (44). Indeed, Hannibal demonstrates a dissolving of the fine line between the ordinary human and the figure of the monster by presenting the characters of Will and Hannibal as merging into one over the course of the series. As their relationship progresses and develops, the two characters become almost indistinguishable, and the series codes this blending together in queer romantic terms. At the end of the first season Will's confusion about his own identity changes and is directed at Hannibal instead, as Will states: “I know who I am… I'm not so sure that I know who you are any more. But I am certain one of us killed Abigail” (2.13 “Mizumono”). The characters of Will and Hannibal are connected by Abigail's (apparent) murder – whether it was Will or Hannibal who killed her, the result is the same, and they share the blame for it. Crucially, Hannibal becomes a gothic double for Will as they swap places in the second season (Cenciarelli, 109): Will is imprisoned while Hannibal consults on FBI crime scenes. The crimes Will is accused of are Hannibal's, and Hannibal takes on Will's role at the FBI, turning their dynamic as investigator and criminal upside down. This reversal is especially significant in the light of previous instalments of the Hannibal Lecter franchise, which usually portray Hannibal after he has been captured and imprisoned (Casey, 554). In the series however, Hannibal remains free, while Will takes his place in prison. In a scene with Bedelia at the beginning of season two, Hannibal says: “I got to be Will Graham today. I consulted at an FBI crime scene. I stood in Will's shoes, looked through his eyes, and I saw death, how I imagined he would see it” (2.01 “Kaiseki”). The dialogue is telling of the two characters beginning to morph into one. Hannibal says that he “got to be” Will, rather than substituting for him or taking on his position. He describes himself as occupying Will's place in the world (standing in his shoes) as well as, metaphorically speaking, his body (seeing through his eyes). The sentiment of sameness that is constructed here between the two characters is also pointed

41 out by other characters, such as when Beverly Katz (Hettienne Park) tells Hannibal “you're not a suspect. You're the new Will Graham” (ibid.). Similarly, Jack, in dialogue with Will, tries to convince Will of his guilt: “You stood over Cassie Boyle's body in that field and you described yourself to me” (in describing her murderer). Will replies: “No, I described Hannibal Lecter” (ibid.). The description the characters refer to occurs in the series' first episode, and the fact that it is presented here as fitting both Will and Hannibal points to their similarity as preceding their relationship. At the same time, the character of Will brings up the topic of Hannibal's influence on him, and Hannibal addresses their relationship as follows:

WILL: I used to hear my thoughts inside my skull with the same tone, timbre, accent as if the words were coming out of my mouth. HANNIBAL: And now? WILL: Now… my inner voice sounds like you. I can't get you out of my head. HANNIBAL: Friendship can sometimes involve a breach of individual separateness. (2.01 “Kaiseki”)

The series thus makes the blurring-together of the characters clear on a textual level that stresses that they are not to be seen as separate characters any longer. While this blending of the characters may be seen as simply undermining the distinction between detective and criminal at first, it takes on an increasingly overt queer tone as the series progresses. In “Naka-choko”, after Will has been released from his imprisonment, he, Hannibal, and Alana are shown having dinner together. Hannibal sits at the head of the table, with Will and Alana on either side as he serves them dinner. The characters of Alana and Hannibal are having an affair at this point in the series, but the relationship they discuss over dinner is that of Hannibal and Will, when Alana mentions that Freddie Lounds believes that “neither of you is the killer she's writing about, but together you might be” (2.10 “Naka-choko”). Characters are shown questioning the nature of Will and Hannibal's relationship along with their possibly joint guilt for a number of crimes. After a brief discussion of Freddie's lack of boundaries as an investigative journalist, Will, Alana, and Hannibal continue their discussion of Will and Hannibal's relationship:

ALANA: Freddie isn't the only one without boundaries. Your relationship doesn't seem to know many. Patient and therapist. Friend and enemy. HANNIBAL: Crossing boundaries is different than violating them. ALANA: Boundaries will always be subject to negotiation. It's just hard to know where you are with each other. WILL: We know where we are with each other. Shouldn't that be enough? (2.10 “Naka-choko”)

42 The scene ends with Hannibal looking back and forth between Will and Alana, highlighting the differences and similarities in their relationships with him. While he is in a sexual relationship with Alana, the dialogue stresses that there are few, if any, boundaries in his relationship with Will. Alana is presented as questioning the nature of Will and Hannibal's connection, and she is rejected answers, excluded from their relationship, or an understanding of it. The element of secrecy created here in relation to Will and Hannibal's relationship hints at homoerotic undertones in the context of Hannibal's sexual relationship with Alana. She is refused access to knowledge about the nature of their relationship, suggesting that they are hiding something from her. Since she is portrayed as not believing that either of them is a murderer, the question of what they are hiding takes a turn toward the romantic and sexual. In the third season, the concept of an inseparable bond between Will and Hannibal becomes increasingly important. They spend the first five episodes apart after Hannibal flees the country at the end of season two. Will is presented as being drawn to Hannibal, despite their geographical separation, and he follows him to Italy, where they reunite in “Dolce”. Again, they discuss their relationship:

WILL: You and I… have begun to blur. HANNIBAL: Isn't that how you found me? WILL: Every crime of yours feels like one I'm guilty of. Not just Abigail's murder, every murder, stretching backward and forward in time. HANNIBAL: Freeing yourself from me and me freeing myself from you, they're the same. WILL: We're conjoined. I'm curious whether either of us can survive separation. (3.06 “Dolce”)

The scene argues for a connection between the two characters that is so strong that it allowed Will to find Hannibal's hiding place in Italy. Will describes himself as feeling guilty of Hannibal's crimes due to their connection, and he doubts that a full separation is possible. The notion of being inseparably connected in psychological terms is taken to a physical level in a later scene in the same episode. Hannibal drugs Will, and in a sequence set in Will's mind , their conjoined heads appear as smoke on a white backdrop, and as growing out of each side of a pair of antlers (ibid.). Nevertheless, the character of Will is shown attempting to leave Hannibal behind in “Digestivo”. Having come to the conclusion that their relationship cannot be fixed after their recent repeated betrayals of each other's trust, Will calmly tells Hannibal: “I'm not gonna miss you. I'm not gonna find you. I'm not going to look for you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you any more” (3.07 “Digestivo”). When Hannibal argues “you delight in wickedness and then berate yourself for the delight”, Will disagrees and rejects the description of

43 Screenshot 25: Will and Hannibal's heads appear to be conjoined and made out of smoke (3.06 “Dolce”, 30:09).

Screenshot 26: Will and Hannibal's heads grow out of a pair of antlers as they look at each other (3.06 “Dolce”, 30:42). their similarity: “You delight. I tolerate” (ibid.). The scene is set to the same musical score as the final scenes in the second season when Hannibal attacks Will and leaves him behind, emphasising that both characters are emotionally hurt by their impending separation. Hannibal is shown leaving Will's house, seemingly fleeing again, but when Jack arrives, Hannibal turns himself over to the FBI. Hannibal kneels on the ground, hands raised behind his head in surrender to the FBI agents surrounding him, and exclaims, while looking at Will: “I want you to know exactly where I am. And where you can always find me” (ibid.). It is made clear to both Will and the audience that Hannibal refuses to let Will have the complete separation he asked for. In “The Wrath of the Lamb” Will is shown to understand the reasoning behind Hannibal not fleeing the country again: “You turned yourself in, so I would always know where you were. You'd only do that if I rejected you” (3.13

44 “The Wrath of the Lamb”). This rejection is to be understood in barely subtextual romantic terms. The previous episode shows Will speaking with Bedelia, who, as Hannibal's psychiatrist and travel companion in Italy, is presented as having unparalleled insight into his mind:

WILL: Is Hannibal... in love with me? BEDELIA: Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment in the very sight of you? Yes. (3.12 “The Number of the Beast is 666”)

Will asking whether Hannibal is in love with him, and Bedelia's clear affirmative reply lift Will and Hannibal's queer romantic relationship from the level of subtext, addressing and confirming it in direct dialogue. Since Hannibal usually constructs its characters in ambiguous terms, the clear affirmation of Hannibal's romantic feelings for Will in this scene functions as a strong statement of the series' creators as to how the characters' relationship is to be read. While ambiguous hints at the characters' queerness may be understood by viewers in a variety of ways, the brief dialogue between Will and Bedelia in this scene discards the validity of any non-queer interpretations of Hannibal's affection for Will. An examination of the portrayal of different actions in the series further supports the argument that Hannibal is an intrinsically queer series.

45 4. Actions

The various modes of constructing queerness through Hannibal 's narrative and characters are reflected in the actions of characters in the series. Actions are the most easily accessible source of information for viewers of a television series, and can thus play a vital role in (re-)presenting queerness. In following Butler's argument that gender and sexuality are always constructed through doing , rather than being fixed categories (33), this chapter investigates how Hannibal uses actions to construct its characters' queerness. Three main areas of actions that construct the series' (and the characters') queerness are of importance: actions pertaining to murder, eating and cannibalism, seeing, and actions associated with sex and relationships.

4.1 Transgressing Boundaries: Killing, Eating, Cannibalising Hannibal is repeatedly shown cooking meals and hosting elaborate dinners in the series, especially in the first season. There is a clear focus on the preparation and consumption of meals, which, through viewers' awareness of Hannibal's cannibalism takes on a macabre tone despite the food always being presented to look appetising. Miller and van Riper point out that “human flesh is the ultimate culinary taboo, and cannibalism the ultimate act of transgression: an act […] that can never be wholly expunged, just as those who commit it can never be wholly redeemed” (4-5). In a similar line of argumentation, Fuchs stresses that “ Hannibal 's use of the liminal object that is food stresses the series's thematic concerns surrounding the transgression of borders” (99). The consumption of taboo meals thus emphasises Hannibal 's focus on undermining and dissolving boundaries that exist in society by presenting the consumption of human flesh as associated with haute cuisine. Characters eating with Hannibal often confirm that they are enjoying the meals through dialogue, which creates a specific kind of horror associated with the characters' ignorance of what they are eating, while viewers are fully aware of the cannibalism they are watching on screen. Cannibalism as an act of transgression “exerts a dark fascination”, which viewers can enjoy safely in the context of a fictional television series (Miller & van Riper, 5). The focus on unknowing cannibalism in the series' first two seasons is transformed into knowing but involuntary auto-cannibalism in season three, when flashbacks show Hannibal holding another character, Abel Gideon (Eddie Izzard), captive. He systematically removes Gideon's limbs one by one, cooks them, and forces Gideon to participate in eating them (3.01 “Antipasto”).

46 The clear depiction of Hannibal preparing Gideon's limbs for consumption ties in with the series' depiction of the violence associated with murder and cannibalism. The first episodes of the first season focus on Hannibal cooking his victims after he has already killed them, so that viewers are not directly confronted with scenes of Hannibal killing other characters. He is presented as manipulative and calculating, keeping the danger the character poses for others on a psychological level rather than a physical one. These two forms of danger are finally combined in “Fromage”, when Hannibal and Tobias fight violently in Hannibal's office, resulting in Hannibal killing Tobias. The physical violence occurs in a setting usually associated with the mind – the office where Hannibal treats his patients. The prolonged fight scene, in which viewers are aware that both characters aim at killing the other, draws attention to Hannibal as a physical threat as well as a psychological one (1.08 “Fromage”). In a similar scene in “Mizumono”, the characters of Hannibal and Jack fight in Hannibal's kitchen. The fight begins when Hannibal throws a large kitchen knife at Jack and leaps over the kitchen counter to attack him. Hannibal is shown using kitchen utensils throughout the fight: he hits Jack with a frying pan and a pepper mill, disarms him with the aid of an apron, and hits his head with the refrigerator door (2.13 “Mizumono”). Both the setting of the fight in the kitchen and the utilisation of items typically found in a kitchen to violently attack another character function to dissolve the apparent divide between haute cuisine and violence that the series presents in its earlier episodes. The friendly relationship between Hannibal and Jack turns into a violent fight in Hannibal's kitchen after Jack realises that Hannibal is a serial killer and cannibal. Just before the fight Jack states: “this is the clearest moment of our friendship”, pointing out that the character has come to an understanding of how Hannibal uses his kitchen (2.13 “Mizumono”). The scene reflects the ways in which friendship and food are presented as highly connected in Hannibal. Preparing and sharing meals is often shown as contributing to building relationships between characters, such as when Hannibal has dinner with Will or Jack, or cooks with Alana (2.06 “Futamono”). Food is thus used both as a tool for building connections between characters, and as a symbol for the transgression of societal boundaries. This becomes especially clear in “Naka-choko” (2.10) when Will, pretending to have killed Freddie Lounds, provides the meat for a shared dinner with Hannibal. Alluding to the human origins of the meat, Will appears to knowingly participate in cannibalism in this episode, and viewers are only later informed of Freddie's survival. Despite the repeated presentation of cannibalistic acts on screen, the transgression of boundaries through food is not limited to cannibalism in the series. In “Ko No Mono” Hannibal serves ortolans, small endangered songbirds, to Will. The scene's editing focuses on extreme close- ups of the characters' mouths, throats, and eyes as they chew and swallow the whole birds, both

47 characters closing their eyes in enjoyment. Casey points to the scene as being “over-the-top in its suggestion of homoeroticism” (560) and quotes Hannibal 's series creator Bryan Fuller, who, in an interview stated that the scene “has a very bizarre sexuality to it, because it’s all of these close-up shots of things going in men’s mouths and then swallowing and eye rolling” (quoted in VanDerWerff). The meal is presented as crossing several boundaries at once. It is illegal, due to the birds' endangered status, thus defying law enforcement, and it is considered morally highly questionable. Hannibal informs Will: “Traditionally, during this meal, we're to place shrouds over our heads, hiding our faces from God” (2.11 “Ko No Mono”). At the same time, as Fuller points out, the camera's lingering focus on slow motion shots of the characters placing the birds in their mouths makes it “hard not to think of the sexual subtext of what’s happening between these two guys” (quoted in VanDerWerff). The sexual connotations of this scene are clearly related to eating

Screenshot 27: Will places a bird on his tongue in an extreme close-up (2.11 “Ko No Mono”, 02:46). forbidden food, and the series also presents a link between the act of murder and an intimate connection between the characters of Will and Hannibal in other episodes. After Will has killed Randall Tier in “Naka-choko”, he talks to Hannibal about his feelings connected to the murder:

HANNIBAL: Did you kill him with your hands? WILL: It was… intimate. HANNIBAL: When you killed Randall, did you fantasise about killing me? Most of what we do, most of what we believe, is motivated by death. WILL: I've never felt as alive as I did when I was killing him. (2.10 “Naka-choko)

Since it is strongly suggested to viewers and the characters alike that Will killing Tier functioned as a symbolic killing of Hannibal, Will's statement that it felt “intimate” here becomes directly related

48 to his relationship with Hannibal. The act of killing is described as making Will feel alive, pointing to his enjoyment of it. This positive association Will is shown having with his memory of killing Tier stands in stark contrast to his shooting of Hobbs in the series' first episode, which is shown to cause the character to have nightmares. The change from suffering from negative psychological consequences after killing Hobbs to feeling “alive” while killing Tier points to an underlying theme of conversion that is of central importance to the development of Will's character throughout the series. Fuchs and Phillips comment on the first meal Will and Hannibal share in “Apéritif” (1.01): “In this 'first date,' Hannibal uses food to penetrate Will's standoffish defenses, as well as to introduce him (unknowingly) to the world of cannibalism” (213). While the series makes it clear that many of the meals Hannibal shares with other characters contain human flesh, Hannibal is presented as having a vested interest in turning Will into a murderer and voluntary cannibal. As Fuchs and Phillips point out: “for Hannibal, 'unknowingly' is insufficient, and he embarks on an elaborate scheme to convert Will” (ibid.). The notion of converting Will to cannibalism and murder is coded in sexual language and imagery, and is reminiscent of the idea of “turning” a person from heterosexuality to same-sex desires. In “Savoureux” Hannibal encourages Will to “follow the urges you kept down for so long”, and while the dialogue is referring to killing other characters, the choice of the word “urges” may also point to repressed sexual desires and the concept of the closet (1.13 “Savoureux”). The sexual undertones of cannibalism in Hannibal are perhaps most clear in “Kaiseki” (2.01), which shows Will remembering how Hannibal forced a tube down his throat to insert Abigail's severed ear into his stomach. The scene shows Will in a catatonic state, possibly drugged, as Hannibal stands over him, inserting the tube. Casey argues that “Graham is literally penetrated by Lecter”, emphasising that “the rape-like nature of this act is reinforced in the cinematography” (559). Extreme close-ups of Will's mouth as Hannibal inserts and later removes

Screenshot 28: Hannibal inserts a tube into Will's mouth and throat (2.01 “Kaiseki”, 33:16). 49 the (phallic) tube move in and out of focus, highlighting Will's defencelessness against the assault, which is underlined by the character audibly gagging at the forced insertion of the tube into his throat. This scene establishes a strong link between Hannibal's “rape” of Will and his goal of turning him into a cannibal. This sexual connection to cannibalism is further underlined in season three, when the character of Mason plans to eat Hannibal. Having captured Will and Hannibal, Mason has both characters tied to chairs at his dinner table and compares them to another pair of cannibals:

You boys remind me of that German cannibal who advertised for a friend and then ate him, and his penis, before he died. Tragedy being, the penis was overcooked. Go to all that trouble to eat a friend and you overcook his penis! They ate it anyway, they had to, they committed. But they didn't enjoy it. I'm committed to enjoying every bite of you. (3.07 “Digestivo”)

Significantly, Mason plans to eat Hannibal after having Will's face transplanted onto his own, furthering the idea of Will eating Hannibal. In combination with the comparison of Hannibal and Will to cannibals who specifically ate a penis, this scene makes the queerness of cannibalism in Hannibal unmistakably overt. Eating is repeatedly presented as a queer act in Hannibal , both in terms of undermining established societal norms and boundaries, and by coding the sharing of meals in homoerotic language and imagery.

4.2 “This Is My Design” – Queer Seeing Despite Hannibal 's focus on food and eating and related associations of tasting and smelling, all senses are of central importance in the series' construction of queerness. The soundtrack continuously oscillates between classical music and Brian Reitzell's original compositions that are decisively eerie and less melodic, pointing to the constructed nature of the characters and their actions. The engagement with viewers' senses in Hannibal is perhaps best understood in terms of Laura Marks' haptic visuality, which emphasises cinematic images that involve a bodily engagement of the audience with the film (Marks, 162-63). Marks argues:

[A] haptic work may create an image of such detail, sometimes through miniaturism, that it evades a distanced view, instead pulling the viewer in close. Such images offer such a proliferation of figures that the viewer perceives the texture as much as the objects imagined (163).

Images such as the extreme close-ups of Alana's tear (see page 15) pull viewers into the story-world

50 and do not allow for viewing from a distance. Similarly, the focus on textures that is typically present in Hannibal 's presentation of images of food create a sensory experience for viewers that exceeds the audio-visual. Hannibal 's haptic images function as a tool for drawing the audience in, involving all senses in any viewing of the series. The following examination of the act of seeing is thus always connected to the other senses, and the ways in which the series presents seeing as a queer action link vision to bodies and their identities.

Screenshot 29: Images such as this, seen by Will in a dream sequence, highlight the series' focus on textures and haptic visuality (2.01 “Kaiseki”, 24:34).

When Will is first introduced in “Apéritif” both the character and the audience see him in the position of a murderer. After imagining himself killing the actual murderer's victims, Will declares “this is my design”, introducing the way in which the series connects killing to the (visual) arts (1.01 “Apéritif”). The episode later shows Will imagining himself as a killer again, brutally attacking a victim in her bed, and in one of the last scenes of the episode Will shoots Garret Jacob Hobbs who, before dying, addresses Will, asking “see? See?” (ibid.). Seeing, especially seeing clearly, is associated with the concept of truth in Hannibal , which is emphasised in “Savoureux” when Will begins to suspect Hannibal of being a murderer. Having persuaded Hannibal to take him to Hobbs' abandoned house, Will threatens Hannibal with a gun after realising that he might be responsible for the murders Will stands accused of. Hannibal asks “are you a killer, Will? You, right now – this man standing in front of me – is this who you really are?”, to which Will replies: “I am who I've always been. The scales are just falling from my eyes. I can see you now” (1.13 “Savoureux”). Vision is linked to identity in this scene. Hannibal asks if Will's true identity is that of a murderer, while Will argues that seeing clearly is what allows him to perceive Hannibal as a murderer. When Will raises his gun to shoot Hannibal, Jack is shown arriving at the scene and shooting Will in the shoulder, disarming him. Importantly, Will falls into the same corner of the

51 kitchen where Hobbs died, and Will repeats Hobbs' question: “See? See?”, highlighting his own shifting identity (ibid.). This connection between seeing, identity, and Will becoming a murderer is further emphasised in “Naka-choko” when Will interacts with the displayed body of Randall Tier. In a scene similar to other investigation scenes, Will is shown in dialogue with the dismembered Tier:

TIER: Come closer. I want to see you. Can you see you? WILL: Clearer and clearer. You forced me to kill you. TIER: I didn't force you to enjoy it. You made me a monument. WILL: You're welcome. TIER: The monument is not to me. It's to you. WILL: I gave you what you want. This is who you are. What you feel finally matches the reality of what I see. TIER: This is my becoming, and it's yours. WILL: This is my design. (2.10 “Naka-choko”)

The stress on seeing in this exchange is connected to Will's changing identity. The line “this is my design” is used almost every time Will imagines himself in the position of a murderer, usually ending these sequences. In this scene however, what Will sees is truly his own design since he is the one who killed, dismembered, and displayed Tier. The concept of identity is especially important in connection to Tier, since he is portrayed as a character who believes himself to be an animal stuck in a human body (note also the German meaning of “Tier”, which translates to “animal”). When Will imagines his conversation with Tier after killing him, he has merged Tier's body with the skeleton of a large sabre-toothed cat. Will argues that what he sees now matches how Tier feels, pointing to the connection between characters' appearance and their identity. Tier, in Will's

Screenshot 30: Tier's mutilated body has been combined with an animal's skeleton, pointing to his (and Will's) hybrid identity (2.10 “Naka-choko”, 07:20). 52 imagination, nevertheless states that being merged with the skeleton is a monument to Will, not to Tier. The dialogue stresses that Will enjoyed killing and dismembering Tier, and Tier's question “can you see you?” links back to Will's newly formed identity as a killer. The notion of seeing other characters' true self also functions as a way of explaining Hannibal's immediate interest in, and attraction to, Will in season one. In therapy with Bedelia Hannibal tells her that he wishes to become Will's friend, and Bedelia points out: “It's nice when someone sees us, Hannibal. Or has the ability to see us” (1.08 “Fromage”). The ability to see is, in the context of the characters of Hannibal and Will, rendered unmistakably queer and connected to the notion of being able to see or spot other queer people despite a lack of obvious “signifiers”: “The two men are drawn to each other in scenes and language that recall cruising and the queer gaze. Hannibal and Will recognize something in each other and are constantly pulled to each other” (Messimer, 180). The romantic nature of Hannibal's interest in Will is underlined by the musical accompaniment to his visit to Will's prison cell in “Savoureux”. As Hannibal enters Will's prison block, he is shown closing his eyes, and “Vide Cor Meum” by Patrick Cassidy begins to play as Hannibal walks towards Will's cell (1.13 “Savoureux”). The song's title, translating to “see my heart”, emphasises the character's wish for Will to see him, and specifically his heart, which gives his desire to be seen a queer undertone. Seeing, and perhaps looking, is thus additionally linked to queer desire in the series. In a later episode, Will again underlines the connection between seeing and identity when he tells Hannibal that Jack “wants to see you… see who you are, see what I've become. He wants the truth” (2.13 “Mizumono”). Here, the concept of truth is linked to Hannibal's identity as a murderer and cannibal, as well as Will's development towards becoming the same. Seeing as knowing the truth is a central theme in “Mizumono” o verall. The episode shows Hannibal attacking several other main characters in his house after realising that Will has been working with the FBI to capture him. After Jack flees to the pantry, having been injured by his fight with Hannibal in the kitchen, Alana enters the scene. She is armed with a gun, and the camera, in slow motion, shows Hannibal through her point of view, his white shirt blood-soaked, two large knives in his hands, repeatedly ramming his body against the pantry door to gain access to Jack. When Hannibal notices her, he interrupts his assault of the door to address her directly: “I was hoping you and I wouldn't have to say goodbye – nothing seen, nor said” (2.13 “Mizumono”). Alana, who in previous episodes is shown refusing to believe Will's accusations of Hannibal, whispers “I was so blind”, regarding her unwillingness to see Hannibal's true self. He replies: “In your defence, I worked very hard to blind you”, referring to manipulating her into having an affair with him (ibid.). He continues: “You can stay blind. You can hide from this. Walk away, I'll make no plans to call on you, but if you stay, I will kill you. Be blind,

53 Alana, don't be brave” (ibid.). The offer to look away and not be involved in the knowledge of the violence and cruelty Hannibal is capable of is directly connected to Alana's safety. The dialogue stresses that Hannibal will allow her to stay unknowing, but that if she chooses to see him and get involved in the situation, he will kill her. This danger, shown to be a direct consequence of seeing and knowing, is also reiterated in Hannibal's interactions with Will after Alana has been pushed out of a window by Abigail (thus confirming that her refusal to look away will cause her harm). Hannibal stabs Will in the stomach and holds him in a tight embrace before letting him slump to the floor, and, in reference to Will betraying his trust by working with the FBI, Hannibal states: “I let you know me… see me. I gave you a rare gift… but you didn't want it” (ibid.). H annibal punishes Will for using his ability to understand him against him, again highlighting that Will could “see” him while other characters could not. When Hannibal leaves his house after stabbing Will and killing Abigail, shots of the various injured characters make clear the consequences of Hannibal's true self being revealed – seen – without his consent. Will lies injured on the kitchen floor, trying and failing to prevent Abigail from bleeding out, Jack calls his wife while blood spurts from his neck wound, and Alana lies on the ground outside the house, covered in glass from the window she had been pushed through, her back broken. The first two seasons of Hannibal build up to this moment of revealing Hannibal's truth, and the consequences are disastrous, establishing a strong link between knowing, seeing, and danger . Hannibal's violent reaction to being revealed hints at the power dynamic inherent to being able to see hidden identities, whether they are related to criminal acts or queerness. Will's ability to see and understand Hannibal grants him a certain level of power over him, and Hannibal reacts with extreme violence to Will abusing this power by working with the FBI to capture him. When Will and Hannibal reunite in “Dolce”, the camera focuses on lingering looks between the two characters, and their dialogue once again highlights the importance of seeing:

HANNIBAL: If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time. WILL: Strange, seeing you here in front of me. Been staring at after-images of you in places you haven't been in years. […] I wanted to understand you, before I laid eyes on you again. I needed it to be… clear, what I was seeing. (3.06 “Dolce”)

Close-ups of the characters' faces as they look at each other for long moments emphasise that they see each other for who they are. Will stresses that his understanding of Hannibal is connected to seeing clearly. In the same conversation Will states that he and Hannibal are “conjoined” and that he is uncertain “whether either of us can survive separation”, linking their seeing of each other to their inseparable connection (ibid.). Moreover, the setting of their reunion in a museum, on a bench in

54 front of a large Botticelli painting, also points to the importance of seeing, since paintings and their appreciation are highly associated with vision. The same painting, Botticelli's Primavera is conveyed as significant to Hannibal's own development as a murderer. An Italian investigator points out to Will that Hannibal recreated the paining with dead bodies when he was last in Florence twenty years prior (3.02 “Primavera”). This once again links murder to the fine arts, and the dialogue and lingering looks in the reunion scene portray this connection as unmistakably queer.

Screenshot 31: Will and Hannibal reunite in Italy. They are shown sitting close together, looking at each other and smiling (3.06 “Dolce”, 19:29).

4.3 Sex and Relationships: Showing and Hinting At Queerness Queerness in Hannibal is mostly presented to the audience via subtext, dialogue, and ambiguity, but as mentioned above there are clearly communicated instances of queerness as well. Sex and relationships between characters are used in the series to present queerness in less ambiguous ways. On the relationship level, Fuchs and Phillips note that Hannibal as a character poses a threat to others not only through physical violence but also by manipulating them “in twisted ways” using his “superior intellect” (207). This becomes clear in the case of Alana, who is shown to have a sexual affair with Hannibal in season two before realising that he is a serial killer. After she begins to believe that Hannibal is indeed a cannibal she tells Will: “In the few jerky seconds of sleep I do get… all I see is… dark swarming behind my eyelids. I dream darkness comes into me. It comes and it's insidious. Up my nose, into my ears… I feel poisoned” (2.13 “Mizumono”). While she speaks, the camera shows Alana lying on what appear to be black sheets, her eyes closed. The blanket that covers her naked body is pulled away and a black liquid rushes around her, covering her completely. Will replies: “We've all been poisoned” (ibid.). Alana feels negatively impacted by

55 her relationship with Hann ibal, and his influence on her is symbolised by the darkness surrounding her in this scene. After Hannibal attempts to kill her (via Abigail) at the end of the episode, Alana is shown turning her back on the law to capture Hannibal in season three. She joins Mason Verger in the hunt for Hannibal and openly discusses bribing officers of the law to gain access to Hannibal (3.06 “Dolce”). Her relationship with Hannibal is shown to directly influence Alana to take illegal actions, both to protect herself and those she loves, and to see Hannibal punished for his actions. He has “poisoned” and infected her with his “darkness” through their affair, linking sex with Hannibal to danger and criminality.

Screenshot 32: Alana, surrounded by liquid darkness, symbolising her being "poisoned" by Hannibal (2.13 “Mizumono”, 13:49).

Another character who is shown to abandon the law under Hannibal's influence is Bedelia. She travels to Italy with Hannibal when he flees the country at the end of season two, and when he is shown killing a minor character in her presence he pointedly asks: “Are you, in this very moment, observing or participating?” (3.01 “Antipasto”). When she replies that she is merely observing, he disagrees: “You say you're observing, but this, this is participation, Bedelia”, and she admits to being partially responsible for the situation (ibid.). Later, after she and Hannibal separate, Bedelia pretends that she “got lost in the hot darkness of Hannibal Lecter's mind”, as Will puts it, so that she can escape the legal consequences of her participation in Hannibal's murders in Italy (3.06 “Dolce”). The psychological influence that Hannibal is shown to have on other characters is taken to a visual extreme in “Dolce” wh en Hannibal opens Will's head with a small electrical saw, commenting: “Jack was the first to suggest getting inside your head. Now we both have the opportunity to chew, quite literally, what we've only chewed figuratively” (3.06 “Dolce”). Hannibal is shown intending to eat Will's brain, incorporating him into his own body, as well as symbolically representing his control over Will's mind. This desire of Hannibal to eat Will, along with his

56 influence on the characters of Alana and Bedelia blurs boundaries between individual characters, portraying Hannibal as spreading his darkness almost like a disease. The fact that he is shown sleeping with Alana, and the series presenting strong hints that he sleeps with Bedelia as well, connects his influence over other characters to sex. Through Hannibal's sexual relationships with Alana and Bedelia, Will following his lead into morally objectionable actions (such as murder and manipulation), paints him as a third character who is sexually connected to Hannibal. Indeed, when Will confronts Bedelia about her actions in Italy, he states: “You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster. You're the Bride of Frankenstein”, to which she replies: “We've both been his bride”, hinting at a sexual connection between Will and Hannibal (3.10 “… And the Woman Clothed In Sun”). Hannibal's power over other characters is additionally queered in the presentation of his relationship with Alana. Fuchs and Phillips argue that Alana functions as a tool for Hannibal, making it clear to viewers that their affair is not to be read as being between two mutually caring characters (211). The series emphasises this by showing Hannibal use Alana as an alibi: after sleeping with her he leaves her asleep in his bed while he abducts Gideon and kills his guard. When Jack asks Hannibal about his whereabouts in the night, Alana states that she spent the night with Hannibal, vouching for his presence in his house (2.06 “Futamono”). Using sex for ulterior motives is also connected to Hannibal in a later episode, when he suggests that Margot become pregnant in order to be able to kill her brother Mason. Since her deceased father's will calls for a male heir, Margot is bound to her abusive brother until she can have a son and kill Mason (2.10 “Naka- choko”). Margot follows Hannibal's advice and sleeps with Will in order to become pregnant by him. Will, who knows that Margot identifies as a lesbian, remarks: “I don't have the right parts for your proclivities, Margot”, assuring that viewers understand that her wish to sleep with Will is inspired by using him as a tool, rather than any sexual attraction to him (ibid.). Will and Alana are thus both in the position of being used by the characters they sleep with, and the connection between the two “couples” of Hannibal and Alana, and Margot and Will is presented as queer. In “Naka-choko” scenes of Hannibal sleeping with Alana, and Margot sleeping with Will are cross-cut, and through their connection they are constructed as unmistakably queer. Will and Margot are shown kissing in bed, but after a close-up on Will's face, Margot is replaced by Alana. As Will leans in to kiss her, the scene cuts to Hannibal kissing Alana. A further close-up shows Alana kiss Hannibal, then turn around and kiss Will, establishing a link between Hannibal and Will who appear to be in the same place in this sequence. An extreme close-up on Will's eye, combined with a shot of the Stag Man watching the scene from the corner of the room, suggests that the camera is taking Will's point of view. After a series of blurry shots of all four characters' faces, Will is shown lying in

57 bed next to Alana. A fade to a wider angle shows Hannibal lying on her other side seemingly in the same bed, and he touches her arm as Will touches her back, again portraying her as a link between the two men (2.10 “Naka-choko”).

Screenshot 33: Alana lies between Hannibal and Will, establishing a connection between the two men (2.10 “Naka-choko”, 24:03).

Logsdon argues that the editing and juxtaposition of these scenes “suggest the passion that the men have for each other” (54), and Messimer points out that “neither opposite sex couple is foregrounded […], as Will's phantom presence lingers in the bed with Hannibal” (177). While Messimer is aware of this scene being used by some critics to seemingly confirm Hannibal's heterosexuality, she rejects this understanding of the character and argues that through Alana's rejection of Will in a previous episode, her sexual encounter with Hannibal links the two male characters together (ibid.). Furthermore, a reading of this scene as “proof” of any of the characters' heterosexuality completely disregards the possibility of bisexuality, and the fact that the series clearly establishes both Hannibal's and Margot's ulterior motives for engaging in sex with Alana and Will respectively. Messimer argues: “he [Hannibal] has sex with women but is in love with Will, and he occasionally uses sex to manipulate others or to maintain his 'normal' persona” (ibid.). Hannibal is shown in the series as using (sex with) Alana as an alibi to uphold his mask of normality, again connecting the character to Butler's concept of performative identities. While the preservation of this image of the character is on the surface level only connected to other characters perceiving him as innocent of crimes, the fact that the upholding of this normative presentation of the character is framed in sexual terms also hints at Hannibal sleeping with Alana as indicative of his queerness. Sleeping with her presents him as having heterosexual, normative desires, while his clear intentions of using Alana make any reading of these desires as “true” void. Messimer continues: “His [Hannibal's] sexuality seems to be ambiguous, diverse, and undefinable, best

58 termed as queer” (177). Through the series' clear statement that Hannibal is in love with Will in “The Number of the Beast Is 666”, the character cannot be understood to be strictly heterosexual. Although it may be argued that he might be constructed as heterosexual yet homo- or biromantic, his desire for Will constructs the character of Hannibal as queer, and attempting to label the character's sexuality and romantic interests otherwise is not productive. The cross-cut scenes in “Naka-choko” emphasise the queer connection between Hannibal and Will, especially in light of Alana and Margot becoming a couple in season three. In “Dolce” the two characters are shown sleeping together in a scene that strongly resembles the ways in which Will and Hannibal are visually presented as blurring into each other throughout the series. Several shots of mirror images and the blurring-together of Alana and Margot's faces highlights their sexual connection by making it difficult for viewers to see clearly which body parts belong to which

Screenshot 34: Kaleidoscopic images such as this visually merge Alana and Margot's bodies into one (3.06 “Dolce”, 25:01).

Screenshot 35: Alana and Margot's heads are conjoined, as Will and Hannibal's are later in the same episode (see screenshot 25, page 44) (3.06 “Dolce”, 25:18). 59 character. Not only is this scene between Alana and Margot unmistakably queer, it also strengthens the presentation of Will and Hannibal as queer in the sex scenes in “Naka-choko”. This is achieved both through visual similarities between the scenes, and by portraying Alana and Margot's relationship as positive and successful, suggesting that a similar relationship for the male characters is possible. Additionally, it is worth noting that the character of Alana is shown as being in a romantic and sexual relationship with another female character after having been involved with Hannibal in previous episodes. This portrayal of the character makes it clear to viewers that her sexual desires are not limited to only one gender. Through the character of Alana, the series refuses to fall into the black-and-white narrative of “straight versus gay”, and instead adopts what Wilde refers to as the “both-and” perspective of bi- and pansexuality (418). Portr aying Alana as interested in romantic and sexual relationships with characters of different genders communicates to viewers of the series that its characters' sexualities are not defined by individual instances of sexual activity. On the contrary, sexual identities are portrayed as flexible, constantly in flux, and not determined by gender identities, again connecting the series to Butler and queer theory. The actions of escaping, and planning escapes, are communicated in romantic language in Hannibal as well, further strengthening the portrayal of the main characters as queer. At the end of the second season, Will and Hannibal are shown planning their escape from the FBI. In “Tome- wan” Will is shown approaching Hannibal, who is sitting at his desk, drawing:

HANNIBAL: Achilles lamenting the death of Patroclus . Whenever he is mentioned in the Iliad , Patroclus seems to be defined by his empathy. WILL: He became Achilles on the field of war. He died for him there, wearing his armor. HANNIBAL: He did. Hiding and revealing identity is a constant theme throughout the Greek epics. WILL: As are battle-tested friendships. HANNIBAL: Achilles wished all Greeks would die so that he and Patroclus could conquer Troy alone. Took divine intervention to bring them down. (2.12 “Tome-wan”)

By linking Patroclus to empathy, the dialogue likens him to Will, and Hannibal to Achilles. Casey points to the possible romantic and sexual aspects of Achilles and Patroclus' relationship (560) , but the dialogue does more than create a connection between Will and Hannibal and the (queer) Greek heroes: Will states that Patroclus “became Achilles” by wearing his armor, evoking the theme of Will and Hannibal taking each other's places and blurring into each other rather than maintaining the boundaries that separate them. Hannibal then mentions the theme of hiding and revealing identities, which is also constantly addressed and played with in the series. When Hannibal states that Achilles wished to conquer Troy with Patroclus alone, he is shown looking up into Will's face,

60 who stands next to him. The direct eye-contact between the characters further emphasises that the dialogue about Greek heroes is employed here as a metaphor for Will and Hannibal's relationship. It is made clear that Hannibal wishes to be alone with Will, with no regard for other characters' well- being. Will and Hannibal plan to escape together and start a new life, away from anyone they know. The language of their escape plan is linked to concepts of marriage, which is underlined both by Hannibal presenting Abigail to Will as a daughter figure before killing her in response to Will's betrayal of him (2.13 “Mizumono”), and a dialogue between Will and Freddie Lounds that occurs after Will follows Hannibal to Italy. When Freddie asks him for a comment on a new investigation, Will refuses to talk to her and states, in reference to an article she published about him and Hannibal: “You called us 'murder husbands'”, to which she replies: “You did run off to Europe together” (3.09 “… and the Woman Clothed With the Sun”), comparing their escape to Italy to a romantic honeymoon. The romantic connotations of Hannibal's wish to be alone with Will and start a family with him, alongside the series' comparison of their relationship to a marriage on the dialogue level furthers the construction of the main characters' queerness. The notion of seeing Will and Hannibal's relationship as akin to a new marriage is carried into the series' third season. After the characters escape together at the end of season three, they hide out in Hannibal's secret house by the ocean until they are attacked by Dolarhyde. The scene showing Will and Hannibal systematically attack and kill Dolarhyde in a joint effort is shown in slow motion, and set to the song “Love Crime”, written by Siouxsie Sioux and Brian Reitzell specifically for Hannibal . The title of the song underlines the romantic connotations of the scene, and the series' final dialogue further emphasises the queerness of the characters' relationship. After killing Dolarhyde, Will and Hannibal, both suffering from severe injuries, hold each other up, and Hannibal declares that he has now achieved what he had always wanted:

HANNIBAL: See. This is all I ever wanted for you, Will… For both of us. WILL: It's beautiful. (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”)

The characters are then shown embracing, their faces only centimetres apart. In a medium shot, Will is shown grabbing at Hannibal's shoulder and waist as Hannibal pulls him closer by his blood- soaked shirt. Close-ups focus on Will placing his head on Hannibal's shoulder and Hannibal leaning into the embrace. Wil l is then shown wrapping an arm around Hannibal and pulling both characters off the cliff they are standing on so that they fall towards the Atlantic Ocean below them. Fuchs and Phillips describe Will and Hannibal's joint killing of Dolarhyde as transforming the “quasi-romantic honeymoon scene” into “a shared ritual by which Will and Hannibal finally consummate their

61 Screenshot 36: Will and Hannibal embrace, their faces close together (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”, 39:12).

Screenshot 37: Will and Hannibal are shown clinging to each other in the series' final scene (3.13 “The Wrath of the Lamb”, 39:19). relationship” (215). The focus of the final scene on the characters' embrace, shown in several shots, highlights the queer physical aspect of their relationship. Messimer argues: “Hannibal and Will are clearly in love, but their strange desires, their love for each other, and their fascination with death keeps them outside of society and unable to find a way to live together” (178). She sees their falling off the cliff as an “homage” to other queer characters in American cinema whose stories have, throughout cinema history, tended to end in suicide or other forms of death (ibid.). It remains ambiguous however, whether the characters die, and if so, how their death is to be read. On the one hand, it may be understood as the tragic ending Messimer describes, highlighting that there can be no life for these queer characters in a heteronormative society. On the other hand, there may also be a sense of having escaped normative society's boundaries in the characters' fall off the cliff, perhaps

62 reminiscent of the final scene in Thelma & Louise (1991, dir. Ridley Scott) that shows the two main characters escaping law enforcement and the strict boundaries of society by wilfully driving off a cliff toward their presumed deaths. Hannibal thus continues to deny its viewers easy answers, instead favouring an ambiguity that allows for multiple readings. The series' final scene is perhaps best described as an ecstatic coming-together of the main characters as they give in to their non-normative desires – the highly dramatic yet romantic music and lingering slow-motion shots of Will and Hannibal killing Dolarhyde once again confirms the previously established link between murder and queer sexual desire in the series. The killing of Dolarhyde is presented in a way that resembles a full cycle of sexual arousal – building up from Dolarhyde's arrival and attack to the climatic murder sequence, which ends with Will and Hannibal holding each other, panting and covered in bodily fluids. Hannibal 's final scene may be its queerest, despite the absence of explicit sexual acts or unambiguous declarations of mutual love and desire. In the context of the series' strategy of constructing queerness, reliant on gothic, “antique methods of queer coding” (Donovan, 39), the final scene functions as a (subtle) affirmation of the main characters' queerness that rejects normative depictions and understandings of identities. Hannibal thus presents its audience with queer characters whose identities are not limited by descriptive labels, enabling viewers to read these characters in more than one way. This openness, carefully constructed through emphasising both fluidity and ambiguity, makes Hannibal an undeniably queer series that exemplifies how queerness can be portrayed in an audio-visual medium without relying on methods that only function to perpetuate heteronormative structures.

63 5. Conclusion

Hannibal approaches the relationship between a psychopathic serial killer and an FBI agent in ways that queer all levels of storytelling. The series systematically examines, questions, and dissolves boundaries between its protagonists, and codes these transgressions as queer, mirroring the central arguments of queer theory. The series' narrative presentation defies viewer expectations and blurs the story-world's reality with dream sequences, character's imaginations, and hallucinations. Along with the destabilisation of linearity through the use of flashbacks, this mix of reality and imagination creates a narrative that emphasises ambiguity and identities in flux, while at the same time presenting heteronormativity as an inherently flawed system. The series' narrative presentation thus functions as the base for its construction of queerness. The identities of the characters of Will and Hannibal are presented as highly fluid and difficult to define, and the ways in which they are shown to become increasingly alike to the point where they almost appear as the same character, are continuously coded in queer romantic and sexual language and imagery. This treatment of fluid, unstable identities follows Butler's argument that sex, gender, and desire cannot be understood as being linked in any way that allows for deductions of one category based on another (Butler, 10, 24). Hannibal , in its presentation of characters' actions, creates direct associations between the consumption of (tabooed) meals, the transgression of normative society's boundaries, and homoerotic desire. Seeing and haptic visuality are linked to Will's ability to perceive and understand Hannibal's complex, queer, and seemingly contradictory identity, and sex between characters is always presented as queer, whether directly (as in the case of Alana and Margot) or indirectly (through cross-cutting or, as in the case of the series' final scene, allegory). Hannibal does not shy away from constructing queerness in criminal characters, as many other contemporary series and films do, but significantly, presenting the character of Hannibal as queer is not an attack on queer identities, but an affirmation of them. Hannibal's queerness is never used by the series to present the character as evil and reprehensible as is often the case in older media. At the same time, by not applying clear labels, such as “gay”, “straight”, or “bisexual” to its characters' sexualities, the series acknowledges the complexity of the spectrum of human sexuality rather than attempting to simplify these matters for the sake of presenting a simple, easy to grasp, story to its viewers. While an intersectional approach also focusing on questions of gender, ethnicity, and class, would provide a deeper understanding of the series' construction of queerness and the ways in which it relates to minority identities, this thesis has provided an overview over the methods the

64 series employs to construct and depict queerness. The importance of creating nuanced representations of queerness in media cannot be underestimated, since it allows queer audiences to see aspects of their lives addressed that are frequently ignored in mainstream media. Hannibal constructs its central characters as queer without stating their queerness outright. This strategy of queer representation prevents the series from falling into patterns of constructing queer characters that ultimately only function to reinforce heteronormativity. Instead of presenting its viewers with more or less queer characters who are reduced to their gender or sexual non-normativity, and whose happiness depends on fitting into heteronormative society, Hannibal undermines and destabilises heteronormativity by showing a version of queerness that is truly “other” without being demonised. The construction of queerness in Hannibal is thus not dependent on heteronormative structures, but rather creates an ambiguity that directly rejects the notion of fixed and stable identity labels. Hannibal makes clear that explicit scenes depicting homoerotic love and desire between main characters are not necessary in the construction of their queerness. Indeed, Hannibal 's non-explicit queerness, focusing on fluidity, ambiguity, and seemingly limitless options for identity expression, is more queer than many explicit scenes of same-sex desire in more heteronormative films and series. Hannibal is not only open to queer readings, it is an intrinsically queer series that creates new forms of complex and nuanced queer representations.

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