The Sounds of Silence: Silence of the Lambs

Watching scary movies around Halloween is as American as baseball or obesity. I still remember being about 11 and watching "The Exorcist" at my friend Carleton's Halloween party, which was in September, for some reason. Around the point where Linda Blair is telling the priest that his mother sucks cocks in hell, Carleton's dad emerged from the darkness like a phantom, wearing a disgusting rubber mask. Naturally, we screamed our little preteen heads off. But even though he put the fear of God (fear of the devil?) into me, Carleton's dad had helped me reach a rite of passage. I started to like getting scared around Halloween.


The movie I keep coming back to in late October is something people will be watching around Halloween long after movies like "Saw" are collecting dust in bargain bins. I'm speaking of "Silence of the Lambs", a movie that isn't really a horror film. What it is is a profoundly disturbing thriller that invites queasiness into your stomach even as it leaves you wanting more.

Obviously, the main draw of "Silence of the Lambs" is Anthony Hopkins. In the '80s, another movie adaptation of one of Thomas Harris's series of novels about Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter featured Brian Cox in what would become Hopkins's signature role. But while Cox was menacingly cool, Hopkins's Lecter is theatrical and aggressive. It's clear why Hannibal Lecter became an icon after "Silence of the Lambs"; it's impossible to take your eyes off him while he's on screen.

Without taking away from the merits of underrated director Jonathan Demme, screenwriter Ted Tally or cinematographer Tak Fujimoto (check out his lighting during the scenes in Buffalo Bill's dungeon), "Silence" is ultimately successful because of the three lead performances. Of course, Hopkins is incredible as Lecter, but much has been said about Jodie Foster in the role of Clarice Starling as well. She's able to play tough and driven while displaying a lack of confidence underneath, making Starling more complex than the average movie Fed or cop. The forgotten man is Ted Levine, who actually comes close to stealing the show from Hopkins as the deranged "Buffalo Bill".

Levine's performance is the most fearless one I've ever seen; he savors his self-disgust, doing acts that must be terrifying to perform in front of a camera. You'd feel compassion for him, if he wasn't dancing around naked in garish, drag queen makeup, while a young woman is trapped in his homemade dungeon. The slightest thing, like how he smirks at Foster when she pulls her gun, or when he tugs on his shirt mimicking the screams of his hostage, can make your skin crawl. Levine was so good at being creepy that he became forever typecast. He doesn't get too many acting roles today, because no one can see him on screen without thinking of shimmying in the dark with his package out, whispering, "would you [blank] me?" to no one in particular.

With "Silence of the Lambs", Demme shows an incredible ability to ratchet up suspense. The scene where the police look for Lecter in a prison air vent is grab-your-armrest material. The climactic confrontation between Starling and Buffalo Bill, with its voyeuristic point-of-view camera work and eerie, green lighting, is even more exciting.

The pieces fit together to create an experience that almost goes beyond merely seeing a movie. Silence of the Lambs evokes fear, exhilaration and most of all, the sense that you're watching something people will love being spooked by for generations to come.