There have rarely been filmmakers who have had more interesting and diverse careers as Jonathan Demme, a creative genius who worked across genres and mediums to create some of the most innovative, authentically brilliant films of all time (both narrative and documentary films), such as Something Wild, Married to the Mob, Philadelphia and the wonderful non-fiction film Swimming to Cambodia. While my personal favorite work from his storied filmography is the seminal Talking Heads concert film Stop Making Sense, his most endeared and beloved work in the iconic, legendary The Silence of the Lambs, a film that has developed a status of celestial praise and adoration, becoming a definitive part of the canon of great American horror films. It has been a quarter of a century since its release, and I have watched it several times throughout the years. On my most recent rewatching, I was struck by how well this film has aged. It is still tense, thrilling and most importantly, utterly terrifying. It almost seems redundant to review The Silence of the Lambs, because it is a film that has become a part of cinematic history. Yet, there are still some thoughts about this film that I do want to share because I truly believe The Silence of the Lambs to be one of the most fascinating horror films ever made.

I do think it is best to forego any explanation of the synopsis, as it isn’t likely that anyone reading this hasn’t seen it already, or at the very least knows what it is about. Films like The Silence of the Lambs are difficult to write about because there isn’t much to be said about it that hasn’t already been stated on multiple occasions. It just isn’t necessary to talk about the story, because I have yet to encounter someone who isn’t at least partially aware of what The Silence of the Lambs is about, and who the infamous subject matter is known for, and why he has become a part of the Hall of Infamy in terms of great literary villains. It isn’t even necessary to mention his name, because it is simply innate knowledge that The Silence of the Lambs is the first proper cinematic introduction to Dr. Hannibal Lecter (technically, Michael Mann’s somewhat unheralded Manhunter was the first, giving the underrated Brian Cox quite a character to work with), and it was history-making, to say the least. This entire paragraph, by my own admission, has just been petty gripes with the fact that The Silence of the Lambs is almost too good because it makes it very difficult to speak about it from an original point of view. I digress and move swiftly on, attempting to segue into something a little more profound and less self-indulgent, and worthy of this fantastic film that went on to define both the horror and crime thriller genres, both of which informed The Silence of the Lambs, and in turn were influenced by the raw brilliance of this masterpiece.

The Silence of the Lambs is a bit of an anomaly as far as films go, because it is both a brilliantly terrifying and chilling horror film, and an energetic, tense crime thriller, combining these two genres that may appear to have similar subject matter and story structure, but rarely meet in such perfect serendipity as they do here. While other films may attempt this same amalgamation of these two genres, very few are as effortlessly great as The Silence of the Lambs, purely because the way in which Demme blends horror and crime thriller standards does not create contradiction or confusion in terms of potentially muddling the conventions of the respective genres, but rather allows The Silence of the Lambs to be imbued with the most powerful strengths of each respective film category. It is a very tense horror film and an extraordinarily chilling crime thriller, and it leaves the viewer with the suspenseful frustration of a crime film, and the terror of an authentically creepy horror film. I cannot praise Demme’s directing and Ted Tally’s screenplay for this film enough – the effortless ballet of filmmaking that this film proved to be is truly remarkable and is the reason behind The Silence of the Lambs‘ enduring, strong legacy that still persists to this very day.

The reasons behind the continuing success of The Silence of the Lambs is in its legacy as a film with some of the strongest character work in modern cinema history. Focused almost entirely on FBI trainee and rookie behavioral psychiatrist Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster), and her interactions with the aforementioned Dr. Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins), The Silence of the Lambs is a film, like I said previously, that fits into both the horror and crime thriller genres effortlessly, while still defying conventions by placing the character work ahead of anything else. It is a terrifying, thrilling film, but one that amplifies this sense of exhilarating horror by focusing on the psychology of the characters, using their thoughts and inner-turmoil to explain their motivations and their hidden insecurities and strengths contribute to the central story. I have always been struck by the fact that the central mystery, that of Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine) kidnapping, murdering and skinning his victims, has become somewhat secondary to the interactions between Clarice and Lecter, which are made to buttress the main storyline, not define the film as a whole. There is a reason for this: the physical criminal mystery is not nearly as fascinating as the psychological mystery of the characters. This is a film that cares about its characters and developing them into complex, nuanced individuals rather than archetypal cinematic constructions.

When an actor is known for one particular role, that role tends to follow them like a specter, defining their career. One of the only actors that I know that has been able to overcome this is Harrison Ford (but I’d argue the reason for this is because he played so many iconic, history-making characters, he couldn’t be remembered for just one of them). Moreover, when an actor is defined by a particular performance, it can sometimes be a burden, because the novelty of such a performance does wear off, and the longer it stays in the zeitgeist, the less exciting it becomes, usually becoming a victim of overhype. However, Anthony Hopkins is an actor who is both known as one of the greatest thespians of his generation, but also someone who has become a household name for his performance in The Silence of the Lambs, and it is the rare example of a performance that fully lives up to its status. I can rarely recall an antagonist as nuanced and sophisticated as Hopkins’ Hannibal Lecter, with his calm dignity and ferocious animalism working in conjunction to make Lecter far more than a standard villain. His complexities are shockingly deep, and the way he conveys the psychopathic charisma possessed by Lecter is truly frightening. It is the definition of a truly extraordinary performance, and Hopkins is simply incredible, and after countless rewatches, I stand firm in my belief that this is one of the great cinematic villain performances of all time (and perhaps the greatest cinematic villain performance, which is ironic considering Lecter is positioned to be more of an ally to the central story rather than the main antagonist). Mads Mikkelsen is great, Gaspard Ulliel is talented and Brian Cox is a terrific actor, but Hopkins did something entirely unique and innovative with this character and took it in a direction that was mind-blowingly good.

Jodie Foster is also a wonderful actress, having one of the most fascinating and diverse careers in Hollywood, both as an on-screen performer and from behind the camera. The Silence of the Lambs is her definitive performance, as the story places her right at the center, and focuses almost entirely on her role in the search for the elusive Buffalo Bill. There are few performances that are as complex as the one Foster provided here, mainly because there are very few characters like Clarice Starling. She is not an archetypal female character that horror films adore exploiting and making victims – she is strong, willful and intelligent, and she is shown to be more capable than nearly any of her colleagues. However, she is also not without vulnerabilities and insecurities, and much of the film is centered around her own memories of the past, where she recalls the tough upbringing she had, which informs many of her decisions and eventually is used as a very painful aid in the investigation and eventual solving of the Buffalo Bill mystery. Foster is quiet, intense and brilliant, and holds her own against Hopkins in their multitudes of terrifying encounters, where Lecter’s mind games exploit Clarice’s deepest weaknesses, yet Foster’s headstrong portrayal of this character allows Clarice to be seen as a complex and vulnerable, albeit strong-willed character, and it serves to be a highlight out of her wonderful career.

I do feel the need to briefly mention Ted Levine’s performance in this film. The Silence of the Lambs is defined almost entirely by Hopkins and Foster, and their performances have gone on to make history. Yet, Levine is equally as good, being able to effortlessly oscillate between the hypermasculine kidnapper, to the effeminate and flamboyant murderer. One of the definitive scenes in The Silence of the Lambs is towards the end, whereby Levine’s character transforms himself to the sound of “Goodbye Horses”, which is a scene as terrifying and complex as any of the more traditionally tense scenes in this film. Levine is terrific in the film, and his performance stands out as being as equally brilliant as Hopkins and Foster.

Moreover, another aspect of The Silence of the Lambs that almost always goes unrecognized is the innovative filmmaking technique. This does not seem like an ordinary horror film, with many of the most intense scenes taking place as intimate psychological discussions between characters. Most of these scenes are shot in close-up, which amplifies the uneasy sense of foreboding dread and psychological discomfort present throughout the film. Demme was a maestro of innovative filmmaking, and he always made sure the visual aesthetic of the film worked alongside the storyline (or lack thereof, with some visual choices, sometimes helping to create a sense of a story, such as in Stop Making Sense and his other non-fiction or more experimental works, where the camera is used as a pen to “write” a certain story), and The Silence of the Lambs is absolutely no exception. Beautifully tense and brilliantly complex, it is only made more intense and uncomfortable by Demme’s insistence that the audience is as awkwardly and terrifyingly close to these characters and their psychological states as possible. Perhaps the most petrifying part of this film is seeing the fear in Clarice’s eyes as Lecter psychologically deconstructs her, exposing her weaknesses. Innovative and utterly brilliant in every way.

The Silence of the Lambs is a sensational film. It is shockingly dark and deeply restless, filled with moments of sheer discomfort and utter trepidation. The audience is thrown deeply into this complex world, and the dreadful sense that there is no escape is strangely palpable. The actors only magnify the fear and anxiety of The Silence of the Lambs, with Hopkins, Foster, and Levine being particular standouts. It is a film that only gets better with every re-watch, where each viewing gives the audience more to appreciate, more clues to build towards the central story, and even more dread and terror than before. The Silence of the Lambs is one of the greatest horror films ever made, and the dedication to placing the characters at the forefront does not mute the horror or make it more palatable in any way – in fact, it only serves to intensify the frightening nature of this film. There isn’t much else to say about The Silence of the Lambs other than that it is a great film and a definitive cornerstone of horror cinema.