Hannibal Rising review

It’s not just the flesh that’s undercooked in this unwarranted prequel to the Lecter franchise – a glum, dull and not particularly gory stab at giving Thomas Harris’ cultured maneater a backstory lurid enough to justify his later excesses. Given Harris shouldered scripting duties himself this time out, you’d think he’d have come up with something less ludicrous than “Lithuanian Nazis ate my sister”. Still, it makes as much sense as anything in Peter Webber’s atmospheric but fatally misguided reboot.

Watching Gaspard Ulliel’s bland young cannibal slice ‘n’ dice his way through Rhys Ifans’ band of war crims to the mounting disquiet of his Japanese auntie (Gong Li), you can’t help thinking Anthony Hopkins would eat this kid for breakfast. Having set this cashcow in motion with Hannibal and Red Dragon, however, Tony only has himself to blame for this latest blight on his legacy.

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