The evergreen NME once memorably declared that ‘pop will eat itself’. While the accredited scribe David Quantick was referring to chart music when he made his memorable soundbite, this sentiment applies equally to contemporary pop culture on the whole; literature, cinema and television are becoming increasingly interchangeable, with intellectual properties transferring from one format to the next with gay abandon and enabling the cult entertainment snake to eat its own tail. Such displays of cultural cannibalism make it only fitting that the irrepressible Hannibal Lector has been granted a new lease of life, unfolding on the final platform he had yet to conquer – the small screen. Thankfully, Hannibal is very much a revival in fortunes for the hungry head-shrinker. After five cinematic adaptations of Thomas Harris’ four novels, interest was waning; Anthony Hopkins was slowly beginning to portray Lector as a parody of himself, and Harris admitted he only wrote Hannibal Rising so that somebody else couldn’t. An interesting combination of police procedural, serial killer psychological thriller and character- driven drama, Hannibal sees showrunner (and issue 1’s Legend of Cult TV) Bryan Fuller embrace his darker instincts with roaring success. It’s tempting to attribute this triumph to the casting, which after a slightly unsteady start soon proves to be a masterstroke, but Hannibal is a classy show all around. The rotating roster of directors include Hollywood hitmakers such as David Slade, James Foley and Michael Rymer (who, having also enjoyed stints behind the camera on Battlestar Galactica and American Horror Story, is rapidly establishing himself as the new David Nutter), while the production values suggest that even cent spent on the show ends up on screen. Hannibal also manages to pull off the impressive task of finding the perfect tone almost immediately; whilst this is evidently a show that takes itself seriously, a degree of levity occasionally rears its head and reminds us that, among the death, destruction and drama, we endure these gruesome sights in the name of entertainment. Brace yourself for this though, because Hannibal is frequently very grisly indeed; this is unmistakably television for adults. Flirting with a ‘Killer of the Week’ concept but frequently elevating the artform and planting the seeds of longer arcs, this is no big-budget take on Columbo – the corpses left by the variety of psychologically-damaged individuals investigated by Will Graham leave little to the imagination. Thus viewers with strong stomachs are treated to visually striking homicides by impalation on a deer head, flayed backs that resemble angel wings and death by cello; all very gory, but never gratuitous. Arguably the biggest strength of Hannibal, however, is the previously-praised cast. A combination of Fullerverse veterans and newcomers, every member of the shows call sheet has a moment to shine and embodies their character to perfection. Hugh Dancy holds everything together gloriously as Graham, wholly convincing as a man of fierce intellect haunted by abilities that complicate his every waking moment. This is not the contented husband and father of Red Dragon; rather a complicated and damaged man regarded by his colleagues and superiors as every bit as suspicious as the psychopaths he hunts. Laurence Fishburne also inhabits Jack Crawford quite superbly, oozing authority and silent, seething anger at his various quarries. It’s Fishburne that also drives many of the show’s soap opera elements, with a quietly devastating sub-plot involving his wife (played with ice cool tranquillity by Gina Torres) annoyingly dropped halfway through the series’ run. Other vintage characters from the Lecterverse also show up, with Lara Jean Chorostecki impressing as a lady- shaped Freddie Lounds (now a crime blogger), and Raul Esparza embodying the arrogance and questionable competence of Frederick Chilton. Naturally the show would live and die based on the performance of the title character however, and Mads Mikkelsen feels his way into the role quite beautifully; by the end of the season, it’s hard to imagine anybody else ever having portrayed Lector on screen. Mikkelsen’s take on Lecter is infinitely more Brian Cox than Anthony Hopkins, as this incarnation most certainly does not say “okey dokey”. The dishy Dane isn’t always entirely easy to understand, delivering dialogue at pace through a heavy accent, but this adds to the otherworldy nature of his interpretation of Hannibal Lector; Mikkelsen acts through body language first and foremost, with piercing eyes and an upright posture somehow demonstrating his haughtiness and fierce intellect before any words are uttered. Talking heads scenes that revolve around Lector are often the most engrossing moments in the show, with psychiatric sessions conducted by Gillian Anderson’s Dr. Du Maurier in particular crackling with tension and sexual chemistry. Mikkelsen also gets to enjoy portraying different aspects of Lector’s personality hitherto unseen, such as his role as adoptive father to victim/suspect Abigail Hobbs, played with the perfect blend of endearing vulnerability and sinister undercurrent by Kacey Rohl. The relationship between these two characters is one of the most intriguing throughout the season as we watch Lector manipulate Hobbs to meet his own ends, in much the same way as he does Graham and Crawford. The gloriously controlled performance of Mikkelsen means that we root for Lector despite being fully aware of his true nature; it is impossible to tear your eyes from the screen whenever he appears. It’s not all po-faced psychobabble, though. The mid-season episode Sorbet (each instalment is named after a French dish) particularly benefits from some dark humour, with Lector consulting a cookbook and a rolodex of contacts-cum-ingredients – culminating in a dinner party where he warns that “nothing served tonight will be vegetarian”. There are plenty of nudge-wink references to Lector’s unique dietary habits throughout the season, and while they are occasionally heavy-handed (especially shots of the good doctor in the kitchen in the early episodes – we get it, the man likes his bespoke meat) Hannibal largely stays on the right side of camp. Plenty of care has evidently been lavished on the visual transfer as the discs are a sight to behold, right down to the patterns on Lecter’s many and varied neckties. The show utilises colour very effectively within its sets, and when the gore is clear enough to have even the most hardened viewer wincing. Sound is also very strong and clear, which will help with anyone who struggles with Mikkelsen’s accent. Sadly, the same cannot be said about the extras. While the US release is bundled with deleted scenes, commentaries, and storyboards, the UK edition provides just a pair of 3-minute puff piece featurettes (First Look and Forensics 101). Barely even an appetiser, let alone a main course. This lack of extra features leave a foul taste in the mouth, but thankfully the quality of the episodes and their transfer ensures Hannibal: The Complete Season One remains an enticing package. Chill the Chianti and lock your doors; the Doctor is very much in. .