Will Graham, Red Dragon, and the Fantasy of Heteronormativity
(My first substack article also being shared here!!!!!!!)
Content warnings: Discussion of sexual assault, homophobia, extreme violence.
Also contains spoilers for all the mentioned texts but you knew that already.
Can you straightwash a straight man?
This is something I found myself wondering after watching both film adaptations of Thomas Harris’s Red Dragon (1981). Despite NBC’s Hannibal (2013) choosing to adapt Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter as a queer love story, in the original book they are effectively straight men. But the novel can easily be read as queer, as the Red Dragon story centres on the destruction of heteronormativity and the nuclear family. Book Will Graham attempts to escape his troubling thoughts and moral panic by performing heteronormativity and nuclear family life, with disastrous results. Yet NBC Hannibal (2013) is the only adaptation to truly grapple with this aspect of the story, while Red Dragon (2002) and Manhunter (1986) create a safer narrative that reinforces heteronormativity, rather than interrogating its cracks.
I wanted to examine how the original book portrays and questions heteronormativity, and Will Graham’s relationship to it, before critiquing and comparing both films’ rejection of this vital part of the story. Finally, I’ll discuss how the show understands Will, and elevates this theme and the queer implications of it into explicit text.
Setting all adaptations aside, it is extremely easy to do a queer reading of Red Dragon, with no shortage of supporting textual evidence. That being said, I don’t think book Will was definitively written to be a queer man, and I’m not trying to argue that he was. But undeniably, this is a book that examines the cracks in the idea that heteronormativity and the nuclear family are essential and universal paths to happiness; that they can heal any wound.
Will Graham appears to be the All American Family Man, living the heterosexual dream; a beautiful wife, a young son, and a life on the beaches of Florida. Naturally, this is the man that Jack Crawford comes to to help him catch the killer who is specifically targeting families; parents and children in their homes, sexually assaulting mothers. Dolarhyde’s horrific crimes destroy the heterosexual nuclear family, a cultural cornerstone of American life. Harris sets up a deceptively simple story in the opening chapters. The hero Will, overcome by pictures of the murdered family, his mind with his own, chooses to return to his mission to protect the American public.
But the cracks appear immediately. Will Graham is a troubled, deeply anxious character, able to empathise with and imagine himself as a killer, just as he can empathise with their victims. He is constantly plagued by the deep rooted fear that darkness and monstrosity exist within him after spending so much time in the minds of murderers. The plot device Harris uses to examine Will’s psyche and anxiety, is one Hannibal Lecter.
Hannibal exists in the original book as a foil or a mirror to Will, depending on your persuasion. His statement “You caught me because we are just alike” (Harris, 80), is the crux of their relationship in this book. Hannibal exists in Red Dragon to speak Will’s deepest fears, and prove to him that he cannot escape his reality through heteronormativity.
Will is haunted both by his forced killing of Garrett Jacob Hobbs, and his catching of Hannibal based on little evidence, evoking fears he is a killer is a profiler’s clothing. The method Will uses to escape and bury this fear, is heteronormativity. Will marries Molly, a woman with a son who can give him a ready made family, after the Hannibal incident causes him to flee the FBI, in a conscious attempt to ignore his violent potential. He uses heteronormative life and the nuclear family as tools to run from his moral panic. Though it’s clear he loved Molly and Willy, and is desperate for his family to work, his life in Florida is a performance that Hannibal sees through.
Harris, through Hannibal, pokes holes in this performance. He first attempts to destroy his new life by giving Dolarhyde his home address, driving a wedge between him and Molly. He then arrives in the form of a letter to haunt Will with his anxieties that he enjoys killing deliberately wanted to hurt Freddy Lounds, and does it deliberately; Hannibal acts as the voice in Will’s head, “the enemy inside him” (322).
“When you were so depressed after you shot Mr. Garrett Jacob Hobbs to death, it wasn't the act that got you down, was it? Really, didn't you feel so bad because killing him felt so good?” (321)
The final scenes of Red Dragon illustrate the cracks in heteronormative nuclear family life. Will and Molly intend to ignore the glaring issues with Will and their marriage, something many heterosexual American couples have done to save face. Will believes he has escaped the darkness and left it behind, and can successfully force peace of mind. He is wrong.
“ When they saw that it was not the same, the unspoken knowledge lived with them like unwanted company in the house” (406
Dolarhyde rises from the dead in an attempt (facilitated by Hannibal) to destroy Will’s life. He succeeds in disfiguring Will and terrifying Willy, before Molly is forced to shoot him, as Will was forced to shoot Hobbs. By selfishly inserting himself into this family, Will has brought with him his darkness and traumatised Molly and her son. Harris paints a horrific image of Molly frantically “scrubbing hard at the flecks of blood and bone on her face and hair” (410).
Will Graham ends the novel alone; Molly is implied to be leaving him, and in The Silence of the Lambs, it is confirmed he ends up as an alcoholic in Florida. His performance of heteronormativity crumbles, as it was merely a feeble attempt at normalcy, from a man haunted by the idea that he is dangerously abnormal. The novel leaves the question of Will’s true morality and potential for evil up for interpretation; but not before Hannibal arrives to taunt Will one last time, in a letter that could be interpreted as homoerotic, depending on the reading:
“I wish you a speedy convalescence and hope you won't be very ugly. I think of you often” (414)
The Will Graham of the novel is a broken man who clung to heteronomative family life to escape his inner darkness. Harris explores how the way of life that is instilled into all of us from childhood, and seen as the ideal and aspirational future, is not a universal fix. It fails to save Will, or make him or his family happy, because it was not something he truly wanted.
For these reasons, a queer reading of Will is easily supported. A queer man who is terrified of the parts of himself he deems monstrous, uses a heterosexual nuclear family to escape this, while being haunted by a man from his past who sees through the act, and destroys his attempt to deny his queerness. It may not be what Harris intended, but interpretative readings such as this are allowed in literary criticism. Furthermore, the novels exploration of the cracks in heteronormative life is obvious and essential to the story, with or without a queer Will Graham.
“There is no murder. We make murder, and it matters only to us. Graham knew too well that he contained all the elements to make murder; perhaps mercy too. He understood murder uncomfortably well though” (419)
Manhunter (1986), and Red Dragon (2002)
Both film adaptations reject the examination and critique of heteronormativity in various differing ways. Manhunter, a Reagan era film, and 2002’s Bush era Red Dragon, (director Brett Ratner is now making MAGA propaganda films) both defend the heteronormative nuclear family, and Will’s role in it. While Red Dragon attempts to explore part of the novel’s themes, Manhunter celebrates it.
Both films make choices that strengthen Will’s devotion to heteronormativity where the novel questioned it. In both films, Will is already married to Molly before he catches Hannibal, and has a biological son with her (a running gag to me is this child having a different name in every version; here it is Kevin, then Josh). Will having this genuine family, rather than desperately seeking it out and using it to hide from himself, after what Hannibal showed him, completely undermines his character's moral anxiety. Rather than emphasising Will’s dark mental state, it strengthens the idea that Will is a heroic and palatable family man, who is merely caught up in the exploits of criminals. His family are genuine anchors to him; there is no question whether his life is a heteronormative performance. Good for Molly to have a better husband, but that wasn’t the story Harris was telling.
While Harris left Will’s nature ambiguous, both film’s oversimplify him until he is no longer the troubled, isolated, morally complex character of the book, but a generic “good guy” movie hero who will defend the nuclear family. Hannibal still exists, and still delivers his “we’re just alike” messages to Will, but his role in Manhunter is lightened. There’s a distinct lack of exploration of Will’s empathy gift, and how horrific and isolating it is for him.
Furthermore, morality is simplified. One of the most compelling aspects of Hannibal Lecter stories, in my opinion, are their explorations of morality. Hannibal targets the darkest and most personal parts of the characters’ psyches, and forces them to confront their moral complexities. But both films take a more ‘good vs evil’ approach to this story. Manhunter is most guilty of this. Will is a mildly anxious, all American hero, who defeats a less sympathetic Dolarhyde, a character who is built to be sympathetic to illustrate that morality is complex. While Red Dragon offers a much more developed Dolarhyde, and does make more attempts to explore Will’s anxiety, he still reads as a genuinely good guy. There isn’t a real question as to whether Hannibal’s claims about Hobbs or Lounds have any merit. Neither of these Wills capture the true horror he battles in the book.
Bringing things back to heteronormativity, both films reject Harris’s critiques, and celebrate and uplift the heteronormative nuclear family. Manhunter does this most explicitly, by completely changing the novel’s ending. Will easily defeats Dolarhyde, shooting him and saving Reba. Rather than Dolarhyde returning to haunt him and destroy his family, Will returns triumphantly and reunites with his family on the beach, literally walking into the sunset while a cheesy 80s song plays. Rather than the ominous, reflective book ending, Manhunter demands a sanitised, morally simplified happily ever after that appeals to 80s sensibilities.
Red Dragon’ ending better, and includes Dolarhyde’s attack. I’m actually a big fan of this scene; Molly shoots Dolarhyde as she is supposed to, and the film creates an atmosphere of genuine horror and dread. The family are explicitly traumatised by the attack. Very interestingly though, Will uses homophobia to defeat Dolarhyde. He appeals to Dolarhyde’s fear of being seen as queer by calling him the f slur to distract him. This Will, the genuine, heterormative family man, using homophobic language to defeat the destroyer of heteronormative families, in a film that has minimised the novel’s questioning of heteronormativity as the ultimate bringer of contentment, is loaded, and without Will’s complexity, it falls very flat. My issues are exacerbated by the film’s ending; while we retain Hannibal’s letter and some ominous music, Will and his family are seen on a boat, all together. Again, Will not losing his family after using them to hide from his troubles erases the messaging of the novel.
All this being said, these are not terrible films especially if you separate them from the book. Red Dragon is a decent Red Dragon adaptation, but ultimately the film feels like it was deliberately made more palatable for audiences. It does however have excellent portrayals of Hannibal, Dolarhyde, and Lounds (due to the film being directed by Brett Ratner my goodwill for this film beyond the cast’s performances is rapidly diminishing.) Manhunter is a beautifully shot film; I truly enjoy the BSHCI being a labyrinth of staircases Will struggles to escape from, and there’s a great scene where Will accidently traumatises a child with crime scene pictures on a plane. But these other significant choices let the films down by watering down the darkness and horror of the novel, and of Will.
The queerness of Will and Hannibal may have evidentiary support, but I don’t believe it was Harris’s explicit intention, so technically the films did not erase these character’s canon queerness. But not only does NBC Hannibal make the choice to elevate any queer readings or subtext into explicit text, it adapts Will’s relationship to heteronormativity and morality in a way the films refused to.
I don’t have time here to offer a full in depth analysis of every element of Will Graham’s character (another time…), but I will discuss some major points. The show understands how dark and troubling Will’s psyche is, and his attempts to escape it, while putting it in the context of his queerness. He is the victim of both Hannibal’s outward torture and psychological abuse, and of his own body and mind. Will’s season 1 murder reenactments, his mental decline, and his hallucinations, serve to illustrate the horrors of his gift, his deep anxiety for his morality, and his repression of his desires for both murder and Hannibal. Hannibal’s abuse and manipulation takes his role in the novel and elevates it until Will is consumed almost entirely.
The show uses Will’s struggle to accept his violent impulses as a metaphor for his queerness for 2 and a half seasons before touching Red Dragon, expertly setting up both his character arc for this story, and the book’s exploration of the cracks in the heteronormative nuclear family. Where the book is ambiguous, the show takes the opposite stance to the films. Season 2 emphasises that beyond Hannibal’s manipulation, Will is choosing to commit violence which he enjoys, and connects it to the deep emotional and romantic connection he forms to Hannibal, giving him something prominent and developed to repress in season 3b.
But the show also explores the nuclear family before season 3 too. The opening episode, and much of the show after, focuses on Will’s connection to Abigail, who’s father also attempts to destroy his nuclear family in a murder suicide, facilitated by Hannibal. Both men form a connection with her and attempt to force a father-daughter family dynamic; Will desperate to atone for his killing of her father by becoming her father, Hannibal attempting to groom her into a murder family dynamic with Will. Again, Abigail is an essay in herself, but her story ends with Hannibal demolishing their quasi family by murdering her to punish Will. The nuclear family, whether it is heteronormative or queer, is once again destroyed in a domestic setting, this time by a character who for Will represents and speaks his deepest darkest desires. The fact that Will can forgive this horrific act speaks volumes about this version of Will’s true feelings towards family and violence.
When the show moves into the Red Dragon storyline, it builds on its previous development of Will and Hannibal to execute the books themes. Finally, a screen version of Will seeks out a ready made family to insert himself into, with Molly and her son (this time named Wally). His using heteronormative family as an escape in “The Great Red Dragon” (2015) is exacerbated by the events of previous episodes. Despite admitting his codependency and forgiveness of Hannibal, his desires for violence, and coming close to embracing him, he rejects him to manipulate him into turning himself in. The very reason Hannibal is in prison is that Will repressed his desires by locking them behind glass. The cracks in Will’s family and supposed peace are evident immediately; they don’t even have to be slowly revealed. We know who Will Graham is; we’ve seen him.
The show further builds on these themes through Hannibal, and the events of Red Dragon. Will’s visits to Hannibal are immediately tension filled, due to the previous 3 seasons of development. He speaks Will’s deepest desires and sees through his performance, in scenes l made effective through their connection; wondering whether Molly and Wally are a replacement for his rejection of him and Abigail, acknowledging Will’s fears of his biological children being exactly like him, Hannibal’s venomous jealousy of Molly and Will’s marriage (again, Hannibal, Will, and their treatment of women is another essay).
Their history makes Hannibal sending The Dragon after the Grahams more personal, and more horrific. This scene is an excellent way to illustrate Will’s mistreatment of Molly and Wally and his disregard for them. The last time we see Molly, she is in hospital after being shot by Dolarhyde, traumatised after she heroically saved herself and her son; Will wasn’t even there to help. Despite Will’s reassurances, he leaves her, and eventually completely abandons his family to run away with Hannibal, whom he forgives for this act of violence against his family.
The final mention of Molly is Will acknowledging he is having visions of him murdering her as Dolarhyde murders mothers. All of this serves to illustrate Will’s true nature and his intentions; after inserting himself into the lives of a widow and boy who calls him Dad, for his own peace of mind, Will abandons them in favour of embracing his true desires. The heteronormative nuclear family facade has cracked, revealing an unpalatable truth. He is far from the genuine family man of the films. This way of life can not save Will Graham, because it was never what he wanted. It is not the epitome of happiness as it is advertised to society. For Will Graham it is a prison of his own making, and a mask he takes off; mirrored by the circumstances of Hannibal. By the time Will and Hannibal are facilitating the torture of Chilton, the stage is set for Will’s complete rejection of polite society.
Finally, by subverting the circumstances of Dolarhyde’s return in the final moments of “The Wrath of the Lamb” (2015), the show offers a more hopeful and cathartic ending than Harris. In the novel, this scene is a stark reminder that Will cannot escape himself through any performance of normalcy. In the show, this same statement is true, but it is presented as something to be both reviled and celebrated. By slaughtering Dolarhyde, the last of Will's palatable pretences disappear, and he finally embraces his monstrosity, and his queerness, by embracing Hannibal. This reality is so unbearable, he attempts to kill them both. But through surviving the fall, falling from grace as Satan did before them, and running away together, they create the complete opposite of the socially celebrated, proper, heteronormative nuclear family (discussed beautifully by Messimer, more below).
Adaptations do not have to be play by plays of the source material. They can be responses, in conversation with the text. The novel questions heteronormativity as a universal indicator and creator of happiness. The films, to different extents, defend this way of life, making the story more palatable for Hollywood. The show rejects it entirely, and gives Will Graham a violent, blood soaked, queer happy ending with a monstrosity he has chosen to embrace.
This is likely going to come off as very biased towards the show, but after reading the books I can really see how well it captured the spirit and theme of the novels compared to these films. I also love creative and transformative adaptation in general.
When I was writing this I read “Did You Just Smell Me?”: Queer Embodiment in NBC's Hannibal’ by Mary Kate Messimer. It's available to read if you have access to a university library service (which sucks), and I really loved her detailed discussion of Hannibal’s approach to queerness, particularly her analysis of its depictions of the family, heterosexual erasure, queer cinema history, and the show’s ending (though I still think Hannigram should have just kissed, but that’s my opinion).
