I’ve got to stop believing the purists

Even though I tend to shy away from scary movies of any kind, I’m strangely attracted to the Hannibal Lecter series. I’ve seen Silence of the Lambs many times (one of the few Jodie Foster films I actually like), and I’ve recently fallen in love with Red Dragon (whose spectacular cast includes Edward Norton, Emily Watson, Ralph Fiennes, Anthony Hopkins, Mary-Louise Parker, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Harvey Keitel).

So I thought I’d give Manhunter—the original film adaption of the Red Dragon book—a chance. The purists on Netflix, after all, said the performances were subtler, the film was truer to the book, the suspense was intense. I rented it and was sorely disappointed. The soundtrack was mid-1980s hokey. The performances were dull (and I’ve seen all of those actors do better) and felt like high schoolers reading Shakespeare or the Lucas-induced robotic readings from the Star Wars prequels. There was very little suspense. I couldn’t get into this film. I kept thinking about how Red Dragon did it better.

Why do I keep falling for the lines these purists spout? With only a few exceptions (Psycho, for example), most remakes I’ve seen have been better than the originals. I like An Affair to Remember, Sommersby, and The Vanishing better than the originals. Blasphemy, I know, but that’s been my experience.

Maybe I’m not discerning enough. Maybe these purists have more refined tastes than I have. I may just be representative of “the masses.” Still, give me Anthony Hopkins’ over-the-top Lecter any day over dead-pan Brian Cox’s performance in Manhunter. If I want to see Brian Cox acting well, I’ll watch The Boxer or X-Men II, thanks.