Interviews
[Interview] Bertrand Mandico on ‘She is Conann’
After seeing She is Conann at the Brooklyn Horror Film Fest, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The film transported me to other planes of existence, and left me with a bunch of questions about the world She is Conann takes place in. Who would be better to answer these questions than the writer and director of the film, Bertrand Mandico.
*All of Mandico’s answers have been translated from French.
Exploring Surrealism in She is Conann: Bertrand Mandico’s Influences
She is Conann is very surreal, from its ethereal environments to its dream-like narrative. What is your connection to surrealism? Who are your influences, and do you view yourself as growing from the tradition of French surrealism in visual art in the 1920s?
The origin and heritage of surrealism fascinates me. Already, many artists precede surrealism, the symbolists: Gustave Moreau, Odilon Redon, William Blake, and Comte de Lautréamont. They had a very strong influence on the writing of Conann. Of course, the surrealists like Bunuel, Ernst, and Cocteau (even if he was not part of the movement) fulfilled me. And also especially the women of surrealism:
Léonore Fini, Dorothea Tanning… The heirs and heiresses that are found in film, literature, and comics: J G Ballad, Cindy Sherman, Paul Grimault, Charles Burns, the Chapman brothers…
The vision of surrealism spans the ages. It is a movement that has been activated and conceptualized by André Breton before WWI.
But this constant concept is in perpetual mutation. Its influence continues to nourish the arts. Surrealism is a black angel of imagination. It reappears before each scourge.
I was very struck by the gender nonconformity in She is Conann. The scene that stood out to me the most is when Rainer says he is becoming a barbarian and shows that he has grown breasts. What is the significance of this scene? What was the meaning behind choosing a woman to play Rainer?
Rainer is not gendered. He is all sexes. He is fascinated by Conann, he wants to be like her and to seduce her. I offered the role to Elina Löwensohn because I knew she would create a complex and ambiguous demon. I like to give actresses singular and unusual roles, not stereotypes, the roles that are usually given to men.
You’ve made a short film about Rainer. Can you tell me a little bit about the origin of his character?
Rainer is a demon with the head of a dog with an appearance reminiscent of R.W. Fassbinder (a filmmaker I revere). In different beliefs, the dog is the ferryman, the one who can go to the otherworld, the world of the dead. I wanted Rainer to have a modern look, that of a photographer of fashion and of war, a person who feeds on flesh. Originally, there was the Celtic myth of Conan, who inspired Howard for the novels. The Conan of Celtic legends is surrounded by Fomoires (hellhounds), demons with the head of a dog. I am partial to the original image, to the mythology. In my film, Rainer accompanies Conann in her damnation and the more Conann dehumanizes herself, the more Rainer is humanized and lets his romanticism show. The first time I filmed Rainer for the theater was for a short film. He makes a Faustian pact with a director in lack of inspiration.
The film spends very little time on Conann’s mother, but as Conann ages, she grows wings mirroring the ones her mother grew when she abandoned Conann. What is the symbolism behind this?
The bat wings are there to represent a being who accesses a “superior” state. A sort of archaic angel. The wings are in reference to the fallen angel of John Milton and also Walter Benjamin’s angel of history. Conann has the possibility of becoming immortal, but she prefers to prolong her harmful influence otherwise, as for her mother, she is a martyr who calls for vengeance.
Initially, I wanted to make a vampire or succubus film, but I found that the subject is seen and seen again. And what interested me was working on barbarism, aging, betrayal of ideals, and old age who kills youth.
How did you make the decision to show most of the film in black and white? Can you talk about the significance of color?
I wanted to create a unity in the film which traverses eras and styles. Black and white unifies everything. We shot the whole film in an ancient steel factory at night. We pierced the darkness with light. We shot in 35mm and all the effects were done during filming. The black and white film attenuates carnal violence and magnifies the light. The color appears in two distinct ways, that of solace for the hell sequences and the meal sequence. I wanted to show hell with pastel colors which contrasts against the usual imagery of hell. Pastels are the colors of old age and early childhood, the colors of the cycle of life.
In contrast, there are inserts of warm and bold colors, they come to punctuate the film and bring flashes of violence, like Rothko animated.
As Conann matures, her barbarism changes. At 25, she is a warrior, at 35, a betrayer, at 45, a sadist; and at 55, a psychological terror. How did you come up with this progression for her?
I started from the most raw and primary barbarity: “revenge” while trying to imagine a crescendo of sophistication, harshness, and perversity over the ages and eras – as if the different decades dictated the trends. But it is a very arbitrary vision. I wanted the film to gain momentum, but for the spectator to never anticipate what was going to happen. The first victim of Conann is Conann, and she must be surprised at each transition to the next age, even if she expects to find her future in ambush.
It seems in her life Conann was revered and feared, but is now damned to wander without her memories in hell. Can you elaborate on this punishment? In the universe you’ve created is there a moral arbiter?
I was inspired by the divine comedy and the circles of hell, the damnations. Hell, in most beliefs, is being stuck in a loop of suffering and remorse, to be condemned to forget and recover memory, to relive harmful actions. The only thing that can save the barbarian is regret. Free will exists, it consists of taking another path when it appears, but it still needs to be seen. The deviations allow the avoidance of fatality.
The film is extremely focused on memory and personal history. Can you elaborate on why you think this is so important?
Memory is the engine of the story. The memory of the original trauma – the death of the mother who provokes the desire for vengeance. The oblivion to escape her condition, the parenthesis. To modify collective memory to take power, install fascism, and finally recover her memory and her misdeeds, like a torture, the passage into the world of the dead. This question of the place of collective and personal memory is for me, a central question. The manipulation of memory is a tool for those who want to assert their power in an authoritative fashion. Also, dematerialization – the reliance on computers (which have their own problems of memory and storage) – the perpetual questioning of history, is a mistreatment of our memory, a weakening. It is a scourge that worries me and is the origin of many ills of our society.
The aesthetics of She is Conann reminded me heavily of films like The Neverending Story, The Labyrinth, and The Pagemaster with their otherworldly sets and fast-paced narratives. Are you influenced by these kinds of films?
Not really. I thought of Lola Montes by Max Ophuls for the structure of the movie. Michael Powell for fantasy. And then all the films that use the ellipses, for movement through time. Throughout the sequences, I invoke filmmakers like Fritz Lang, Kaneto Shindo, Klimov, Pasolini, Cocteau, Coppola etc… The journey into the history of the barbarian is also a journey into cinema.
She is Conann is incredibly queer from the character’s relationships to their bodies. You’ve said in previous interviews that your work is queer in the original sense of the word of challenging heteronormativity. Why is this important to you? Is it hard to make these films in the present times of bigotry against the LGBTQ+ community?
Because the Queer vision advances the narrative, breaks the clichés, deviates the imagination, and challenges censorship, it is an artistic and political choice, one does not go without the other. I’m trying to remain a free spirit. The original meaning of queer is synonymous with the freedom of mind and creation. I make films with a “modest” budget compared to the complexity of my ideas. I shot in 5 weeks in a unique location, which required us to be inventive and creative. Producing a film is never simple, the most important aspect is that it can reach the maximum number of spectators and touch their hearts.
She is Conann combines beauty with barbarity, having beautiful women as barbarians, and glitter in scenes of extreme violence. Why is there a softness to Conann’s world when she and her compatriots are so harsh?
I wanted to talk about a very hard subject, barbarism, by offering a disturbing spectacle, because I juggle between attraction and repulsion.
I try to create a formal distance so that the viewer can take cinematic pleasure by watching my films. The form must carry the substance, like a wave carries a boat and prevents it from sinking into the abyss of pathos. I am working on the shift to render the unpleasant as tolerable.
But barbarism has many faces, like my Conann(s). A brutal and primitive face. But also a gentle, reassuring face. Barbarism hides in the pageantry, the smiles, the festive, the impeccable clothes, the superficial politeness. It is the manicured power that looks good in the media while shamelessly crushing the weakest under their patent shoes.
***
It’s always interesting to get a peak behind the curtain, especially in works that rely so heavily on symbolism and metaphor!
Keep your eye out, She is Conann officially releases November 29!
Interviews
[INTERVIEW] Alice Maio Mackay Talks ‘The Serpent’s Skin’
If you’re having a conversation about contemporary queer horror and the other person hasn’t heard of Alice Maio Mackay, it’s time to stop talking, sit them down, and introduce them to one of the most interesting filmmakers operating in the space right now. At just 21, this Aussie powerhouse has a staggering six feature films under her belt, including the goopy T-Blockers (2023) and holiday horror Carnage for Christmas (2024). Her most recent, The Serpent’s Skin (read our review here), just hit VOD platforms following a successful festival run and limited theatrical release, delivering a soft, sensual sapphic love story—and a snake demon unleashed via a tattoo.
To celebrate the film’s release, I connected with Mackay to learn more about her influences, the collaborations that brought The Serpent’s Skin to life, and her advice for other queer storytellers. The following interview has been lightly edited for conciseness (aka removing the parts where I gushed over one of my favorite filmmakers).
Alice Maio Mackay on Queer Joy, Magnetic Chemistry, and a Touch of Horror Wish Fulfilment
Samantha McLaren: All your films center on queer and trans characters, but this one more than any other radiates with queer joy and euphoria. I’m curious if that was a conscious decision going into The Serpent’s Skin—to center that while still acknowledging trauma.
Alice Maio Mackay: Yeah, I think the way that I wanted to portray trauma was very different in this one. The trauma that both queer people go through is kind of like trauma bonding, bringing them together. It’s more of like past issues, whereas in my previous films, it’s very much been political, a bit angry, like these characters are dealing with bigotry on a daily basis. In this film, I’m not ignoring the issues that trans people face, but it’s more brief and lighter, and that’s not the focus of the film. I really wanted to show that trans people can love, and their love is magic in a sense.
SM: I wanted to talk about the tattoo in the film, because tattoos are such a big part of queer culture. Where did the idea of a tattoo gone wrong come from?
AMM: There’s a couple of different places. I really wanted to, especially with Danny, evoke 2000s gamer culture. That was always a big part, because I wanted to explore how those men who seem performatively woke can be toxic under the surface. Also, I grew up watching and reading The Mortal Instruments and things like that, where tattoos play a big part. And as you mentioned, tattoos are in the queer culture quite a bit. So it’s just a combination of all these things and I thought it was the perfect plot device as well.
SM: This movie centers on a psychic powers narrative, and I think for a lot of queer people, that’s a very wish fulfillment genre of horror. I’d love to hear about your own relationship with it and the influences it had on The Serpent’s Skin.
AMM: I loved Carrie growing up, albeit the remake with Chloë Grace Moretz, which is not a popular opinion. That came out when I was a child, and I read the book as well and really fell in love with that. Anything, as a queer kid, relating to the other and seeing people get their comeuppance, albeit in messed-up ways, is interesting.
And then Charmed was a really big part of my childhood, and Buffy [the Vampire Slayer], which both incorporate witchiness into everyday adolescent issues. The blend of those things has always been very interesting to me as a filmmaker because I feel like those shows weren’t trying to be necessarily scary or have horror at the forefront. It was more about the three women, or the Scooby Gang, and then the horror was propelling the story forward, but it was focused on character development, and their personal lives, which I was drawn to.
SM: Let’s talk about your characters, because the chemistry between the actors feels so sweet and natural. What was the casting process like for The Serpent’s Skin, and how did you work with Alexandra [McVicker] and Avalon [Fast] to build that chemistry?
AMM: So Alex, I was a fan of her work. I’d seen her in Vice Principals [2017] and some other stuff she’d done, and she was just a friend of a friend who I’d kind of got to know. And then Avalon, I was a fan of their work and thought they’re really cool. They said they wanted to get into acting, and the timing just worked out perfectly when they sent me a self tape.
I felt like I was really lucky with the chemistry because we didn’t have a lot of pre-production time. There were a few meetings with the intimacy coordinator before, but I think everyone got here like two days before we started shooting, and Alex got here the night before, so I don’t think they had met in person up until their first scene. The chemistry was just really natural—from the moment they had their first Zoom, it was electric. I think that’s a testament to their willingness to commit to the roles, and their talent.
SM: Such a big part of the sensuality in the film comes from the score, which is so dreamy. When you were working with the composers, what guidance did you give them around what you wanted The Serpent’s Skin to feel like?
AMM: I’ve been working with Alexander Taylor for a while. He brought a co-composer on for this one as well. And I love having a lot of types of music when we’re editing—we have a lot of different ideas about what we want it to sound like sonically, inspiration-wise. We’ve been working together for a really long time, so he kind of just knows what would click. And working with Vera [Drew] as well as an editor, she’s big into temp music, so all three of us were into shaping the score and the movement as early as possible, and then you take it from there.
SM: You mentioned working with Vera Drew of The People’s Joker. This is the second time she’s edited one of your films. How did that relationship come about, and what kind of energy did she bring to your films when she came on board?
AMM: It’s always been really special working with Vera because I looked up to her, and then she was a friend, and getting to work with a friend is always really special. I’ve said this a couple of times, but I think we’re very similar and really inspired by a lot of the same things. She very much understands my reference pool and the world that I want to create. So rather than having a stock edit from the footage, she would be like “oh, this is how you shot it—this is the order?”
She understands my vision, but crafts the footage through her own mind. Especially with the montages and overlays, she’s creating like other-wordly dream sequences through the footage we created, which is kind of like adding to my vision in a separate way I wouldn’t have maybe thought of from the get-go. It’s been a really valuable experience.
Unpacking the Challenges and Triumphs of Getting Queer Horror Made
SM: One thing I love about your films is that they’re so specific to the queer community, yet so accessible. There’s no need to over-explain things. Does that come naturally to you or are you thinking about a straight cis audience at all when you’re writing?
AMM: Maybe this is a bad thing to say, but I never think about an audience in general—especially with these films where there’s pretty much no money involved and you’re shooting in 12 days. I care about the story so much, and at the end of the day, I’m fighting so hard to even get these movies made, so I’m making the story and the vision that everyone on set wants to make.
I feel very lucky that people have been interested in these films. When I started, I never thought people would want to watch them, let alone come back for a few more. It’s a weird thing where it’s so hard to make these films that I just make them for myself, and that’s kind of it, and people seemingly want to see that, which is really nice.
SM: You started making films when you were very young, and you now have six features under your belt. How do you feel you’ve grown as a filmmaker?
AMM: I mean, I was like 14 when I made my first proper short film and 16 when I shot So Vam, so it has been a little while. I feel I’ve definitely become more confident and assured, just trusting people and collaborating, and not letting people speak over me—I know what I want artistically now. Maybe on So Vam, I wouldn’t nitpick or be as specific as I am now.
Working with Aaron [Schuppan, cinematographer] and Astra [Vadoulis, first camera assistant] since day one, almost, we’ve kind of grown up together and that’s been really special. We kind of have a hive mind now and can communicate in our own different ways. It’s been really beautiful and special.
SM: All your films are a little DIY, and I mean that as a compliment—it’s clear you’re getting out and making the things you want to make. But in an ideal world, if you had all the resources and time you wanted, what is your dream project?
AMM: I’m actually writing it at the moment. I hopefully will get it made at some point. The scope is grander; it’s a bit of a period piece, a little bit set in the 70s, a little bit in the future. It’s just this epic melodrama horror-romance about being doomed… We’ll see what happens.
SM: Fingers crossed, because I want to see that. If you had one piece of advice for other queer people who want to break into the film industry but are not sure where to get started, what would you say to them?
AMM: Corny as it sounds, start to tell a story that is accessible to you at the moment. It’s hard for people in general to break into the film industry, let alone queer people, and there’s no one way to do it. So just write that story, start making things with your friends, and then build up from there. That’s how I managed to start things.
The Serpent’s Skin is now available to watch on demand.
Books & Comics
[INTERVIEW] Tucking Into ‘Hannibal Lecter: A Life’ with Author Brian Raftery
If you’ve had so much as a single conversation with me, you’ll know that I am unhealthily obsessed with the television series Hannibal. What you might not know is that I put off watching it when it first aired because I was uncertain it could match the heady thrills of The Silence of the Lambs, one of the first horror movies I ever saw and one that left an indelible mark on me. These pieces of media, along with the Thomas Harris book series upon which they’re based and early adaptation Manhunter, are cornerstones bricks in my psyche as a horror fan. So when Simon & Schuster announced that they were publishing Hannibal Lecter: A Life, I knew I needed to add a copy to my collection pronto.
Author Brian Raftery’s upcoming book is a biography of a character who may not be real, but who has taken on a life that goes far beyond, perhaps, anything his elusive creator ever planned for him. To tell Lecter’s story, Raftery dives into the archives of Silence of the Lambs’ director Jonathan Demme and conducts new interviews with key figures like Manhunter director Michael Mann and actor Brian Cox, the first person to portray Lecter on screen. He also teases out how the rise of Hannibal Lecter as an enduring antihero dovetails with the pop culture-fication of true crime—and considers why a certain politician kept mentioning the “late, great” Hannibal the Cannibal on the campaign trail.
As a self-proclaimed Hannibal Lecter stan (dare I say apologist), I had to get the chef on the phone. The following interview has been edited for clarity and conciseness, and nothing here is vegetarian.
An Early Taste of Hannibal Lecter: A Life With Brian Raftery
Samantha McLaren: Since the book is presented as a biography and you are not a character in it, I want to start with you. What is your personal history with Hannibal Lecter—where did you first encounter him in the wild?
Brian Raftery: The weird thing is, I have a very specific memory of that, which is when The Silence of the Lambs film came out. I was aware of the book—I’d seen some adults that I knew reading it—but I didn’t know what it was about. At that point, I was mostly just reading Stephen King and/or comic books and/or Rolling Stone magazine. And I remember in my eighth grade Spanish class, I was in the back not studying (which I should have been), but I was reading Peter Travers’ review of this movie [in Rolling Stone]. At that point, my horror experience was mostly kind of the classics, like the slasher movies and The Exorcist and The Omen. And I was reading this review and it was a rave, and I was like, wait a minute, this is a respectable, high-end movie about a cannibal. I couldn’t believe this existed, and I was fascinated. I read the review a couple of times.
I didn’t see the movie in the theater—I didn’t see it until it came on VHS. But I was fascinated with it for years; I watched it over and over again. I think when I first watched it, when I was 15 or 16, it was just the shock of Hannibal Lecter and how crazy these kills were. It’s one of those movies that I really remember, as a teenager, the rug being pulled from under me in terms of that ending, where you think they’re going to the house where [Buffalo Bill] is and they changed it up… But then I watched it more and more, and it was one of the first movies that I kind of started to study. It was definitely one of the first commentary tracks I ever heard or owned. They did one really early in the mid-90s when not a lot of people were doing them. And there was so much writing about it and enthusiasm for it in the 90s, it was a movie that never went away throughout the decade.
Then I read the books. I saw Manhunter and read Red Dragon. I was very excited when the Hannibal novel came out. A little less excited when I finally read it. The funny thing is, I missed a lot of the TV show. The TV show came out right after I’d had my first daughter, and I remember putting it on and being like, I can’t watch that. I was just not in the right headspace. That show is amazing to me. I can’t believe the stuff they got away with 10 years or so ago on network television—on NBC of all things, that was airing like Betty White’s competition shows at that point.
So I’ve always been fascinated by the character. He’s just one of the few villains that has never gone away. The character goes away for long stretches because the movies take a while, the books take a while, but [they’re] always circulating somewhere, unlike some horror villains who go in and out of coolness… So when we started talking about the book, I was at first interested in a book on The Silence of the Lambs, and then my editor said, why don’t we look at the Lecter character in general? That spurred the idea of doing a biography about someone who never actually lived.
How Hannibal Lecter Became a Cultural Icon Without Being Everywhere
SM: It’s a great approach because there’s a lot written individually about the different iterations, but less about the Hannibal character as a whole.
BR: The thing that’s so strange… I re-read all the novels when I started working, and it’s still shocking to me how little Hannibal Lecter there is in those first two books. It’s like 12 pages in Red Dragon. It’s wild to me. Even The Silence of the Silence is mostly a Clarice Starling book. And when you get to Hannibal… the first 100 pages is all Clarice Starling again. The fact that he’s remained so popular despite being kind of underexposed is very strange. There are very few characters who have that kind of presence with that little screen or page time for a big chunk of their career, for lack of a better word.
SM: The book reflects that aspect of Hannibal’s character in that he’s obviously the star, but there are times when he takes a back seat while you tell a broader story about the world around him and the lives he’s impacted in some way, in fiction or in real life. Was it difficult to find the right balance there?
BR: It’s interesting because there is so little on Hannibal. Even if you were to write a Wikipedia entry on Hannibal Lecter’s life and background, there’s so little about his personal life in the books until you get to Hannibal and Hannibal Rising. So I went in knowing that you can’t have Hannibal on every page, and at a certain point, I was just as interested in how the culture created and responded to Hannibal Lecter almost more than I was in the character itself, because whether you’re looking through the lens of horror or the bigger cultural impact of him, he’s really unique in the sense that he has a kind of visibility, despite not really being a guy who’s around a whole lot.
When I signed the contract for the book, I think Trump had only mentioned Lecter once or twice. And then, I’m not kidding, like two weeks later my book agent was like, I’m going to stop texting you every time he does it because he’s doing it so often now that I’d be doing it every day. That was kind of confirmation that, okay, these are people who probably haven’t watched the movies or read the books in 30 years… and he’s still an enduring punchline to so many people. Why this character? How can a president talk about Hannibal Lecter in kind of a heroic way in a way you couldn’t talk about Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers? What is it about this guy, and what was his popularity and his ascent? Where did that come from and what does it mean?
SM: There have been so many parodies and references to Hannibal Lecter in everything from children’s movies to Silence! The Musical. Was it a conscious decision to focus on the canonical, official Hannibal versus all the other ways he’s crept out into society?
BR: It’s funny. Two weeks after I turned the book in, I saw a trailer for the new Naked Gun movie last summer that had a Hannibal Lecter joke in it, and I was like oh, I should have waited until that came out! And there was a Variety story a few weeks ago that Zootopia 2 had a whole scene that was going to basically recreate Clarice and Lecter’s encounter from The Silence of the Lambs, which I thought was a pretty funny idea, and they scrapped it because they were like kids won’t have the patience for this and won’t understand it. I’m old enough to remember The Silence of the Hams, the Dom DeLuise parody. At a certain point, I was worried that if I just kept mentioning all the parodies and riffs, it would maybe distract.
I probably could have included a few more, but there were just so many of them. They kind of never stopped. For me, I was much more interested in how the success of The Silence of the Lambs back in 1991 created (along with Se7en) so many serial killer movies. I remember that I saw Copycat, that Sigourney Weaver and Holly Hunter one, at a screening in the mid-90s, and even I was kind of like, you’re gonna call this Copycat and you’re doing a serial killer movie after The Silence of the Lambs? It was just a little on the nose.

Jodie Foster as Clarice Starling, Silence of the Lambs (1991)
SM: There are a lot of Hannibal connections that are widely known at this point, but you also uncovered stories people might not know, like the women agents who helped shape Clarice. Were there any connections or details you uncovered in your research that you were especially excited to share with a wider audience?
BR: I’m totally blunt about this in the book: I could not talk with Tom Harris. He’s given three interviews, I think, in 50 years. But it meant that basically anything I could find about Tom Harris, any scrap, I had to look at it and be like, can I use this?
I was very lucky in that Jonathan Demme, who is the director of The Silence of the Lambs, and who remained friends with Harris even though he didn’t make the Hannibal sequel—his papers are at the University of Michigan. I got to go through and there was a ton of amazing stuff in there. I can’t say enough good things about the University of Michigan. These were random faxes from Tom Harris to Jonathan Demme and the producers, and there’d be little clues in there. At one point, he mentioned the names of some of the FBI agents he spoke to for the books—that’s the golden ticket.
One of them is still alive and I spoke to her for two hours. Her name is Athena Varounis. She’s fantastic, she should have her own book… She was someone who Harris met with repeatedly while writing The Silence of the Lambs. There’s also a woman named Patricia Kirby who Harris met with at least once or twice during the 80s working at the Behavioral Science Unit [who he spoke to about] being a female FBI agent. That stuff was fascinating because I didn’t know any of it, and to find the name of someone he spoke to on a handwritten fax is phenomenal as a reporter.
Even though it’s called Hannibal Lecter: A Life, to me, Clarice is equally important. I don’t think the movie The Silence of the Lambs would have taken off if it weren’t for Clarice Starling. Hannibal Lecter is not interesting to us unless we’re seeing him through Clarice Starling’s eyes, so I wanted to make sure that her story was told and how she came about. I think they’re the most perfect horror couple… It’s not a love affair, but it’s the closest two humans ever come in a movie despite (aside from brushing fingers) never touching each other.
SM: Harris is known for being elusive. If you had been able to speak to him, is there a burning question you were left with from your research that you would have loved the opportunity to ask?
BR: I had to take a lot of things on secondhand accounts or inference. What’s interesting about what serial killers informed Buffalo Bill or Hannibal Lecter is, he’s barely ever spoken on that. I mean, [former Behavioral Science Unit chief] John Douglas and the FBI have theories, and it’s clear when you look at Tom Harris’ relationship with the FBI, the agents he’s talking to and the killers they were studying, there’s connections there.
My big fascination, which is probably not everyone’s question they want to ask Tom Harris, is Hannibal Rising. With the first two movies, he wanted no involvement; he was happy to cash the checks and he would talk to Jonathan Demme if he needed to. They did the Red Dragon remake, and he was kind of involved again. And then, after proclaiming his dislike of Hollywood, he writes this screenplay and the book [for Hannibal Rising] at the same time, which any writer will tell you is a terrible idea. Every agent, every studio executive, they do not want a novelist working on a screenplay at the same time—it’s usually disastrous. The movie and the book were disappointing commercially. I want to know, how much of that was his trying to wrestle back control of the Hannibal character? Because at a certain point, the character becomes bigger than the books. It was hard to write about Hannibal Lecter without people seeing Anthony Hopkins.
I’m kind of fascinated by Hannibal Rising because it’s one of the 2000s’ most interesting failures. There’s very little documentation about. I talked to the director of the movie and found everything I could about it, but Harris did the screenplay and worked on the book—he didn’t do press. He didn’t really coordinate with a lot of people or communicate with a lot of people. So what he was thinking at the time, I can only guess.

Sir Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter, Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Living With a Character Who Never Quite Goes Away
SM: You talk in the book about how engaging with the Hannibal Lecter media has a profound effect on some people, from David Lynch’s revulsion when he was initially attached to adapt Red Dragon to William Peterson feeling like he was Will Graham after filming Manhunter. Did your research and being immersed in this world have an impact on you?
BR: I’ve always been very good about separating fiction. I love the books, I love the movies—I don’t find that material particularly disturbing, but I was also not William Peterson trying to be Will Graham. It’s a different process.
What I found tough was, I’m not a true crime expert. I’ve been interested in true crime in various cases over my life, but for this, I had to really go deep on some serial killers. There were definitely days where I could get up really early and send my kids off to school and be like, I don’t want to deal with Ed Gein. I don’t want to read the Life magazine story about him, I don’t want to go through John Douglas’s FBI photos, but I did. That stuff, after a while, did start to upset me.
Anthony Hopkins went on this long drive from Utah to Pittsburg right before the filming of The Silence of the Lambs, and because he has a steel-trap memory, he at one point named for a reporter every city he stopped in along the way. And I thought, I bet there’s been a serial killer in each one of those cities. I kind of wanted to make that connection between the country he was going across to play this fictitious killer, and we have all these real killers in the country. I had a week where I was just looking through numerous local papers for unsolved murders and cold cases, and a lot of them were really grisly. I remember by Friday I was kind of like, all right, I think it’s time to watch Singing in the Rain.
It was really unpleasant… We think that the world is more violent now, but when you go back to the 60s, 70s, and 80s and go through these newspapers, there’s a lot of really terrible things going on and I didn’t need to know about every single one of them.
SM: Barring the epilogue, the book ends with the conclusion of Hannibal, the TV show. But there have been further adaptations after that, like Clarice [2021, CBS], which doesn’t feature Hannibal but is in his world. How did you decide to end it where you did?
BR: I knew that the TV show was always going to be the last chapter because I knew it was always going to be chronological in terms of where Hannibal Lecter came out. The thing that’s so remarkable to me about Hannibal the TV show is the fact that Bryan Fuller had this many episodes. He planned for many seasons and the ending they had was the ending they had to do—the show was canceled after three seasons. And it’s one of the best endings for a TV show. This could be the end of the show, or the show could have started again three months later and picked up from there.
I like the ambiguity. The idea of Hannibal falling off a cliff and you’re not entirely sure what happened to him is kind of like the ending of The Silence of the Lambs where Hannibal Lecter goes into the crowd. I wanted the book to end with Hannibal Lecter still out there in some way. It’s a biography of a character, and a character who’s still alive, not the “late, great.”
I did talk to Bryan Fuller a bit about how he would like to do a Silence of the Lambs TV series, and he’s talked about it in other interviews, but I didn’t want to speculate. I want to end with what we know about. What we know is he falls off the cliff, and there’s that coda which, of course, implies something else going on. But I like the idea that after that show went off the air, the way that Hannibal Lecter has lived in the last 10 years is in the culture somewhere. He pops up in strange places—he pops up in a Trump speech; he pops up in college courses. It’s almost like you’re waiting for him to come back in from the cold.
For all I know, Tom Harris could have another Hannibal Lecter book, because he’s surprise released almost all of these books. Maybe he’ll do it again. Maybe they’ll figure out the rights situation and who owns what and make another movie or TV series. A couple of people have asked me like, aren’t you afraid they’re going to reboot it? It’s a pretty durable character… It’s the kind of character that you can play a lot of different ways and interpret a lot of different ways.
SM: So what you’re saying is, there might be a second edition in 10 years if Harris surprise drops Hannibal V.
BR:At the least, we’ll have to do a couple of chapters.
Hannibal Lecter: A Life by Brian Raftery hits shelves on February 10. Learn more, including where to pre-order the book and upcoming appearances from Raftery, by visiting Simon & Schuster’s website.

Photo taken by Samantha McLaren.



