Daniel

Hear me out:

What if vampires made up all the stuff about them being allergic to garlic so that their victims would eat it, thinking it would ward off vamps, but instead it makes their blood easier to drink!

Because it doesn’t clot!

“You sold me to who?!” I shouted at my father, who stared back at me calmly over his morning coffee, as if we were discussing breakfast rather then him making a dark deal with supernatural beings.

“You know I hate repeating myself, Donald. “ He answered irritably, “Before you were born I promised the dark spirits of Opes my firstborn child on their eighteenth birthday. I honestly thought we weren’t planning on having children at that time, in my defense.”

I stared at him open mouthed, even the misty dark creatures hovering over the kitchen chair across from me seemed slightly surprised at his nonchalant tone. “So you guys own me now?” I asked them, my voice squeaking slightly at the last word, a bad habit I’ve had since my adolescence began.

They didn’t have eyes, but were facing my general direction, their voices low and rough, like gravel being poured onto a fresh grave. “Technically, just your soul. You should be fine, really. Plenty of people are soulless.”

“What did you even get for my soul?” I pointed a finger at my father.

He sighed, “There was this really great Porsche I wanted, but couldn’t afford.” Shrugging he added “It seemed like a good deal at the time.”

I couldn’t believe it. “You traded that car when I was five! You traded the car you sold my soul for!”

“Honestly, Donald, stop making such a big deal about this. It’s just your soul.”

I turned to my mother, who was reading the gossip/society section of the paper through this whole conversation. “Don’t you have anything to add?”

“Listen to your father, dear.” Was her helpful addition. She didn’t even glance up from her reading.

Thanks, Mom. I turned to the tall fiery beings silently standing in the corner.

“Are you guys part of the ‘dark spirits Opes’ too?”

The tallest one shook his head, his voice was high pitched liked the scream of an infant.

“No, we are the dark gods of Venustas. We are here to collect your soul as well.”

I threw up my hands “Dad! You sold me to TWO dark beings? Isn’t one enough?”

For the first time my father looked upset. “That wasn’t me! I only sold you once.”

Again my mother chimed in without looking up. “That was me, I’m afraid. Sold off my firstborn many years ago for youth and beauty.” She checked her makeup briefly in a compact and then met everyone’s disbelieving stares. “What? You think looking this good is NATURAL? I wasn’t planning on having children. If I hadn’t forgotten about that deal and Mary Jane down the street hadn’t been flaunting her nursery designs everywhere, I wouldn’t have agreed to have one.”

There was so much wrong with that. I really didn’t know where to start. The two supernatural groups were staring at each other hostilely. I braced myself for the upcoming fight.

That was when the Devil appeared in a burst of flame. He was a bit too big to fit into our kitchen, his horns broke a small crystal in the chandelier above and his two hooves were scratching the hardwood floor. My mom was going to have a field day. Although, she did technically sell my soul away so my sympathy for her was pretty low.

“I am here to claim your soul, mortal!” He cried, holding up his fist in a threatening manner. He then seemed to notice the general chilly atmosphere of the room, as well as the multiple groups of dark beings. “What I’d miss?”

My father sighed. “Wasn’t me.”

My mother shook out her paper, returning to her reading. “Wasn’t me either.”

Everyone stared at eachother in astonishment, and after an awkward amount of silence I slowly raised my hand.

“Actually, that one was me.”

The dark spirits laughed. “YOU sold your soul to the Devil?”

I crossed my arms defensively. “You think getting an all-expense paid scholarship to Harvard is EASY? Besides, it’s not like I KNEW that my parents had already sold my soul twice.”

My father chuckled. “Like father, like son, I guess.”

I glared at him. “Shut up! I’m still mad at you.”

 The Devil, the dark spirits and the fiery gods all faced off in the corner of our kitchen.

“It seems we are at an impasse.” The Devil growled, his spiked tail snapping in irritation.

The fire surrounding the dark gods grew brighter. “So it would seem.” They screeched in reply.

“We submit that we settle this in the Ancient Tradition.” The dark spirits spoke in unison.

The Devil laughed in response. “An old fashioned approach, huh? I like it!”

The tension in the air grew thick as silence settled among the three. I stared worriedly into the group, wondering if I should try to move out of the way of whatever supernatural fight they were starting.

 The three groups of beings crouched in unison on the kitchen floor, facing each other. They each raised a fist.

YASSS - in a heartbeat. So, the crux of what I was saying on twitter was that over the course of season 1 Hannibal’s outfit choices become more restrained, his person suit pulling tighter in an attempt to guard himself from suspicion. As we look at aperitif, the colours are bright and light…

Also that fringe is loose and casual. In Aperitif we see Hannibal at his most innocent, particularly in those blues and beige’s, it’s interesting how you get that colour shift into the darker tone, the brown, during/after the fated call to the Hobbs house.

During potage in particular, we begin to see more of how Hannibal works, with protecting Abigail from nick boyles murder and meeting with her at the end of the episode in this last shot, the fringe is already being swept back, not as tightly as it will be, but in the deception with Abigail, that is where it starts (and you could say, where it’ll end too.)

Progressing through episdoe 5, 6, and 7 it just gets darker, in the middle shot from entree, you can see Hannibal as the Chesapeake Ripper, angry at Gideon’s imitation, and the light shirt and tie are gone, all blues and browns which will also become more prominent during Season 2 when Will knows what Hannibal is, also, that hair is as swept back as it will be come Savoureux.

In this last shot from Sorbet, the hair drops down again, the tones lighten up. This is psychiatrist Hannibal, willing to help the FBI Hannibal, and that continues through to the end of the episode. Becoming more apparent as Hannibal saves a life, he’s revealing a bit of himself here, the career he ditched so he wouldn’t be as much of a suspicion, and Will clocks it, but that casual fringe falls forward again.

Episodes 8 and 9 you can see the trend continuing, the combinations of colours  just get darker and darker, particular darker shades of that brown which started off this whole deception back in aperitif.

That casual fringe is completely gone, it’s all about the security and restraint, but also about the fringe not being there for Hannibal to hide behind, he’s more opaque and more transparent in one element of a costume change, it’s so clever and I love it so much.

In Savoureux, this is all taken to the extreme…

Not only are the suits darker than they’ve ever been, the shadows emphasise this, and there is no longer anything for him to hide behind. Although Hannibal is in the shadows to certain characters (Jack, Alana etc) he’s visible to others, (Will, Abigail)

Although Hannibal is seen as an indomitable, unmoving character, he changes hugely, his ‘out there’ outfit choices are all very him because they’re ‘out there’ but there’s a lot of scope to use that to reveal in a very subtle way, the forces acting on him (Will) whether he likes it or not (he likes it, it’s Will.) Season 1 could almost be viewed as Hannibal mourning the loss of some of his own autonomy, his interest in Will gifts Will power (and certainly it’s shown here) and this only continues through the other seasons.