While dancing in the mirror to Goodbye Horses and clutching a banana between my thighs today, I realized something.
“Who knew penis envy was such an excellent adductor workout?”
Once I got over my lack o’ phallus tears, three other things regarding Silence of the Lambs occurred to me – after having seen the movie for the quadrillionth time this week. The first had to do with that scene when Doctor Fava Beans meets up with the senator lady. And you’re gonna laugh at me for living two plus decades and still missing stuff even though I’ve seen this cult classic more times than I’ve logged onto Facebook; but I finally had the “duh” moment after hearing “Looove your suit” for the infinitieth time. He was subtly trying to remind her that her daughter was about to become a suit herself. Derp. Double derp. Double derp with an exotic moth larvae shoved down its esophagus. Can we file this under the “wisdom that comes with old age?” hashtag? We’d have to move it from its current “Ashley’s brain was DOA into this world” but I feel like it’d be worthwhile. For my feelings. Moving on.
Next was less of a thriller epiphany, and more of a question for Bill’s victim.
Something that could’ve saved her.
And it has to do with his perpetual third person ultimatum from up above his fatty captive:
“It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.”
Now, unless she’d been living under a rock before being cylindrically imprisoned with rock, she probably knew this dude was Buffalo Bill. Which means she knew she was about to get flesh peeled and worn. And, as a young woman (unless she’s a no animal products vegan which I doubt ‘cause you don’t get that size on a green diet), I expect that she knows how to properly care for leather. Now, here’s where she could have saved herself. You know how people go on about killers “not having empathy”? (Him being a prime example by employing the pronoun “it” to issue orders to her?) Well they also say, “Be the change you wish to see in the world”. And right now, your world is a man who wants to wear your skin. Once you get past the horror of that and try to see things his way, you can get inside his head enough to start the conversation rolling. Sure, the “I’m a person like you” thing works on non-cray people.
But once the writing’s on the wall (in dried blood and broken fingernails, no less), it’s time to tweak your approach:
“Uh… Bill? Is this ‘it’ to which you’re referring me? ‘cause if yes – ‘it’ has a question for you. Yeah, I just… I just wondered if that hose is soft water or not? Because I’m not seeing how the hose is an appropriate alternative to lotion. Not unless it’s soft water. Anything else will dry this magical cape I live in right up. I mean, judging by the lack of quality in the fabric of whoever you’re wearing right now – you used the hose a lot when it was still breathing. Be better than the hose, Bill. Also, darling, this lotion isn’t much to write home about. In fact you know what you should write? No – literally – go get a pen and write this down: Nivea deep moisturizing lotion. It comes in the blue bottle and only the CVS an hour and a half away carries it. I know, I know. It’s a trip – but it’s a small price for girls like you ‘n me to stay pretty. Plus, there’s a McD’s on the way. Be a lamb and grab me a value meal. Ya know what they say – grease keeps the skin supple! Now, hurry along, dear, before I break out into hives.”
Sometimes I wonder if my loud mouth would keep a kidnapped me alive longer or just killed quicker.
Or just kept alive to torture because of my captor’s record-fast development of going from sociopathic indifference to radiating hatred for a kidnapee in less than half a minute of meeting me. Either way, the empathy thing leads me to my next question – this time for the FBI peeps’ M.O. in trying to lure Lecter into divulging the deets.
So, to bring this full circle to Dr. People-Eater’s snarky commentary, why not try a diff approach, Starling?
“No, but I bet you have.
Right before you basted them in garlic sauce and ate ‘em like Concord grapes.
(*in menacing British accent*) Can you still feel the eyes, Doctah Leccctah? Can you feel them bleeding?”
Yeah. Should’a gone rogue ‘n made your own offer, bish. Especially since the whole thing was bogus to begin with. I mean, Hannibal goes through all this effort to help you out, and all you offer him is this brochure with a kinda scenic setup where he can smell fresh air, swim, and pretend to act like a normal healthy person? If it weren’t the 90’s, I’d employ the doing-it-wrong meme in big white block letters. So, we’ll try it the empathy way again: Think about your favorite vice. Is it chocolate or wine or intravenous heroin or something? It is? Oh, good. Well, when you’re craving your vice and feel like you deserve it after courageously enduring the pain of reality (work, bills, seeing 99% of your FB feed is wedding announcements), do you want to pretend you’re healthy instead of indulging said unhealthy vice? No! You want the thing. You feel entitled to it. In this way, I feel like they could’ve offered a better dangling carrot by offering a dangling spleen or something instead. I mean, we all know Bill’s bogarting a buncha body bit leftovers in that fatty harvesting shack atop a well-dungeon. Probably’d put Dahmer to shame.
So why not tempt Lecter with that instead?
“Doc, I could give you this shitty ass brochure my higher-ups told me to, but I…I can’t. I just can’t do it in good faith. We’re too good of friends now. It’d feel like giving grandma the flyer for the nursing home down the street and saying ‘Doesn’t this look fun? To die here?!’ No, I know what you really want, and I know where there’s a surplus of it. Bill’s house. Organs of all shapes and sizes… wasted! Wasted by this guy who picks off skin like my brothers and sisters do to the Thanksgiving turkey before it has a chance to even make it to the table (the bastards). Let’s not let that unrefined caveman get away with this. I’ll bring the chianti, you mentally mapquest the location of this abundant meat, and we’ll meet here for a lovely meal fit for a distinguished cannibalistic king while you ask me prying questions which I’ll lie about convincingly…. Say… day after tomorrow? Hurry, though! If you wait too long, it’ll all go bad. And none of us want that. Nothing worse than spoiled Sapien’…”
I feel humanity would be better if the movie was remade with my edits.
I’d help, but I have… sewing to do.
(However, someone should turn that into a paradoxically new-but-more-retro-than A.Psycho videotape meme)
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go reinforce some victim seams…”