It’s been more than five years since Bryan Fuller’s adaptation of Thomas Harris’ novels was canceled and five years of loyal fans agitating at the slightest sign that the gods might smile upon them and see the reincarnation of the devil himself — Hannibal Lecter — returned to their screens. Still, their hope isn’t unfounded, as Fuller, and stars Mads Mikkelsen (whose depiction of Lecter may have surpassed that of Anthony Hopkins himself) and Hugh Dancy (as psychologically delicate murder baby Will Graham) all expressing interest as participating in the fourth season.
Further, when “Hannibal’s” three seasons arrived on Netflix in June, Mikkelsen shared the news, as well as a link to a story contemplating whether or not the series could eventually be resurrected by the streaming behemoth.
On the surface, Netflix feels like a natural place for “Hannibal” to land. The streamer would definitely have the budget to support the show, which bent over backward to keep costs low in an attempt to justify its existence in the face of soft ratings, and they’re clearly committed to high-quality horror programming, something that not every purveyor of TV can claim.
Netflix also makes sense as a home for “Hannibal” thanks to the show’s queer subtext/text/subtext — I mean, Will and Hannibal are clearly in love/want to smooch/want to get married/want to murder each other/want to murder everyone else — as well as being an outlet that’s more than prepared to turn the keys to the kingdom over to a creative mind they believe in, a la Flanagan or, say, David Fincher on “Mindhunter,” or the collected works of Ryan Murphy.
It’s been more than five years since Bryan Fuller’s adaptation of Thomas Harris’ novels was canceled and five years of loyal fans agitating at the slightest sign that the gods might smile upon them and see the reincarnation of the devil himself — Hannibal Lecter — returned to their screens. Still, their hope isn’t unfounded, as Fuller, and stars Mads Mikkelsen (whose depiction of Lecter may have surpassed that of Anthony Hopkins himself) and Hugh Dancy (as psychologically delicate murder baby Will Graham) all expressing interest as participating in the fourth season.
Further, when “Hannibal’s” three seasons arrived on Netflix in June, Mikkelsen shared the news, as well as a link to a story contemplating whether or not the series could eventually be resurrected by the streaming behemoth.
On the surface, Netflix feels like a natural place for “Hannibal” to land. The streamer would definitely have the budget to support the show, which bent over backward to keep costs low in an attempt to justify its existence in the face of soft ratings, and they’re committed to high-quality horror programming, something that not every purveyor of TV can claim.
Netflix also makes sense as a home for “Hannibal” thanks to the show’s queer subtext/text/subtext — I mean, Will and Hannibal are clearly in love/want to smooch/want to get married/want to murder each other/want to murder everyone else — as well as being an outlet that’s more than prepared to turn the keys to the kingdom over to a creative mind they believe in, a la Flanagan or, say, David Fincher on “Mindhunter,” or the collected works of Ryan Murphy.
And listen, as a person who just last year was ranting that audiences deserved the return of “Hannibal” to live out our own fantasies of control and straightforward disposal of rude — and rich, if he can get around to it — people (imagine what he could do if we let him loose on Congress), I support fans’ single-minded commitment to bringing the show back in whatever way, shape, or form they can.
But.
I suspect that part of the magic that was “Hannibal” came from the restrictive nature of broadcast television. Not only was the production hamstrung by budget restraints, but they also had to painstakingly coordinate their efforts with standards and practices — not a small ask of a series that single-handedly presented the goriest, most inventive, most mind-bending` beautiful murder tableaus ever seen on TV, network or otherwise.
Netflix — like a lot of outlets in the prestige TV business, including FX and HBO — isn’t particularly well-known for pushing back against the whims of a superstar showrunner, sometimes resulting in a disproportionate valuation of artistic license over tight narrative storytelling. As much faith as I would have in the “Hannibal” team to maintain their vision without the hidebound restraints of S&P, the series required constant vigilance to make sure that its lurid psycho-horror never tipped over into unchecked camp.
We want “Hannibal” back. We might even need “Hannibal” back. But the idea of the show returning on Netflix leaves me pondering the same old question: Is it better to burn out or fade away?