The small screen has given cinema a bit of a kicking in the last few years. Television is in the middle of another golden age. The likes of House, The Sopranos, Life On Mars, The Wire, Boardwalk Empire and The Walking Dead combine the sort of budget, acting talent and writing usually reserved for high-end movies. It’s debatable whether Hollywood has raised its game to match, but fans of fine visual entertainment can’t complain; there’s too much good stuff to enjoy. But when television takes an unlikely turn towards movie franchise territory inevitable doubts arise. NBC has done just that with their take on Thomas Harris’ charismatic flesh muncher.
Hannibal Lecter aficionados were understandably anxious. We might be neck deep in great television series, but swilling amongst the gold is a flood of carbon copy cop shows. The
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