Hannigram, Delight & Invasion
I’ve been away, for months. And with absence comes clarity - coming back to Hannigram it suddenly hit me; why was this series so powerful, why did I become so obsessed with those two fictional murderers?
It is so cheeky and simple - they are simply two people, who find themselves, unexpectedly, helplessly delighted in each other. Two men, who’d be utterly insufferable where they the leads of their own shows, having chosen to emotionally amputate themselves for opposing reasons. Two eccentrics who should repel each other but against all odds - don’t.
So they find each other and it clicks. And then the tragedy hits - they will never permit themselves to freely delight in this new found company, because they have spend a lifetime fortifying themselves against the mere possibility of companionship (of being seen). So they put on walls and create pitfalls and cliffs, oceans for the other to cross.
One’s fortress is an island - a remote ship of a house, sharing it with a herd of dogs he loves unconditionally. The other’s, a fortress in a sea of wealth, hiding in plain sight in a gaggle of loveless lovers and elite associates.
And that’s the pattern, isn’t it? From the first moment, Will and Hannibal’s relationship is a game of invasion; Hannibal forces himself into Will’s motel room and the game’s afoot. Hannibal seems to be leading the first round, hell - in Oeuf we have an entire scene in which he delights in invading every crevice of Will’s home. And while it seems one-sided - it is not. Will shows up, uninvited, twice, thrice. Will is always touching Hannibal’s things, toying with his pens, his statues. Will breaks into Hannibal’s home, his office, armed, unstable, dangerous, forlorn.
And that’s the softness, there’s the ache: the whole time, the invasions were needless. Will would let Hannibal enter his house, he’d let him touch his lures. Hannibal would trade all his guests for an hour with Will in a heartbeat.
They would - they should, but they won’t. Will and Hannibal are the victims of, maybe not their own trauma, but surely of their own broken coping mechanisms. Both believe that companionship is doom and their fortresses are far too refined, far too perfect.
And so instead of lowering the gate, they invade one another. And they chip and claw and bleed each other - tit for tat, Will breaking into the Lecter’s castle, Hannibal breaking into Will’s skull.
And after they have broken into one another, their mind palaces collide and there is such mesmerising beauty in the simplicity of what they find there.
Two people, seating side by side - free to delight in each other’s company. And what a dark delight it is.
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