When Thomas Harris’ novel, The Silence of the Lambs was brought to the cinema screens in 1991, it grosses a staggering $273m and became a cultural sensation.
Most significantly perhaps, in its near 100-year history, the Academy Awards have only given its ‘Big Five’ Oscars to three films: It Happened One Night (1934), One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) and yes, you’ve guessed it, The Silence of the Lambs.
So good luck then, to anyone who is brave and/or foolhardy enough to bring such a colossus of a film to the stage. Step forward writer Gina Gionfriddo and director Nikolai Foster, whose main desire was to put bums back on theatre seats after the Pandemic by opting to adapt a cinema blockbuster.
‘the play’s tension ratchets up when John Partridge and Mollie Gallagher are on stage together – no mean feat in a theatre setting!’
There is, however, one huge potential pitfall; filling the shoes of Antony Hopkins’ Hannibal Lecter and Jodie Foster’s Clarice Starling. Cue the combined talents of John Partridge as the imprisoned serial killer and Mollie Gallagher as the newbie detective, the chemistry between them is palpable, ensuring the play’s tension ratchets up to ten when on stage together – no mean feat in a theatre setting!
The dynamic of their relationship is in constant flux as Detective Starling frequently interviews Hannibal Lector, the imprisoned psychiatrist and serial killer, in the vain hope that he might use his brilliant mind to catch the still-at-large, women-skinning killer, Buffalo Bill.
‘Are they criminal and detective? Father and daughter? Psychiatrist and patient? Killer and victim?’
Are they criminal and detective? Father and daughter? Psychiatrist and patient? Killer and victim? Or, and this might make you feel a tad queasy, are they flirting, as the original novel suggests?
Partridge’s Hannibal is perfect – on one hand the ice-cool, clean and educated psychopath, on the other the perfect gent, contrasting cleverly with her FBI colleagues; a rabble of uncouth sexists. And a contrast too, with fellow serial-killer Bill, who does little more than grunt and scream – as he sickeningly runs up his victim-skin coat on a regular sewing machine – shudderingly performed by a young, lithe Sam Jackson.
‘Partridge’s Hannibal is perfect – on one hand the ice-cool, clean and educated psychopath, on the other the perfect gent’
And take a bow Mollie Gallagher; her Clarice is the full Jodie – her mouth-half-full southern drawl, and unconfident but persistent demeanour, a constant marvel.
All of these superb performances are contained within the claustrophobic, grey, brick and metal stage set, featuring a prison staircase, gangway and cell doors – is everyone in some way a prisoner in this story?
‘each time Clarice interviews Hannibal, he is wheeled on in his large fish-tank of a prison cell’
The lighting is alternately gloomy or bright and coldly lit, an ominous low-note drone pulsing out from the bleak stage, and each time Clarice interviews Hannibal, he is wheeled on in his large fish-tank of a prison cell.
The combined effect of this superb stagecraft is extremely unsettling, further emphasising the only outdoor sunshine when Hannibal escapes.
‘He’s still out there. Among us’
And as Silence Of The Lambs closes we find him sat at an outside at a café in the Bahamas sipping his infamous Chianti, giving a quick friendly call to Clarice. He’s still out there. Among us.
Edward Bliss
The Silence Of The Lambs runs at New Theatre Oxford until Saturday October 24. BOOK HERE
