Hannibal (2013–2015): Season 2, Episode 10 - Naka-Choko - full transcript

Previously on Hannibal...

- I want you to admit what you are.
- You still refuse to see

- the monster growing inside you.
- I want exclusive rights to your story.

It's all yours, Freddie.
What is the heir to the Verger

meatpacking dynasty
doing at my door?

We have some very similar issues.
I tried to kill my brother.

- I assume he had it coming.
- They're looking for you.

It's important you do
exactly what I say.

(dogs barking)

I'd say this makes us even.

I sent someone to kill you...



you sent someone to kill me.

Even-steven.

Consider it an act
of reciprocity.

Polite society normally places
such a taboo on taking a life.

Without death,
we'd be at a loss.

It's the prospect of death
that drives us to greatness.

Did you kill him
with your hands?

It was...

...intimate.

It deserves intimacy.

You were Randall Tier's
final enemy.

Don't go inside, Will.

You'll want to retreat.

You'll want it



as the glint of the rail tempts us
when we hear the approaching train.

Stay with me.

Where else would I go?

You have everywhere to go.

You should be quite pleased.

I am.

Of course you are.

When you killed Randall,

did you fantasize
you were killing me?

Most of what we do,

most of what we believe,
is motivated by death.

I've never felt as alive
as I did when I was killing him.

Then you owe
Randall Tier a debt.

How will you repay him?

The killer chose
not to dispose of the body,

but to display it.

A jarring reminder
of the informality of death.

Randall Tier was

denied the respectful end
that he himself denied others.

This is a humiliation,

- a final indignity.
- He isn't mocking him.

This isn't disdain.

He's... commemorating him.

This killer has no fear

for the consequences
of what he's done.

No guilt.

Hello again.

(steady heartbeat)

Come closer.

I want to see you.

Can you see you?

Clearer and clearer.

You forced me to kill you.

I didn't force you to enjoy it.

You made me a monument.

You're welcome.

The monument is not to me;
it's to you.

I gave you what you want.

This is who you are.

What you feel finally matches
the reality of what I see.

This is my becoming.

And it's yours.

This is my design.

He knew his killer.

There's a...

familiarity here.

Someone who met him,

understood him.

Someone like him.

Different pathology,

same instinct.

His killer empathized with him?

Don't mistake understanding
for empathy, Jack.

No, if there's anything, it's...

it's envy.

Envy?

Randall Tier came into his own

much easier than
whoever killed him.

This was a fledgling killer.
He's never killed before,

not like this.

Not like this, no.

This is the nightmare that
followed him out of his dreams.

(typing)

(knocking on door)

(knocking on door)

(Freddie): I've upped the ante
on my publishing deal.

There's been movie interest.

Hollywood is a fine place
for the obnoxious and wealthy.

You're not wealthy, Freddie.

Oh, I will be.

No, I am a pariah
among journalists

because I took
a different faith,

but I am putting
that faith in you.

Let's talk

about the Chesapeake Ripper.

Frederick Chilton.
Who knew?

Who knew?

No one did. No one would,
not even you.

You were so certain
the Chesapeake Ripper

was Hannibal Lecter,
you tried to kill him.

You neglected
to say "allegedly".

No, I didn't.

Hannibal Lecter is
your psychiatrist again.

What's up with that?

I was wrong about him;
that's what's up with that.

Maybe you were.

Maybe you weren't.

Dr. Chilton was
the Chesapeake Ripper.

The Chesapeake Ripper had surgical
skills Dr. Chilton did not.

- They had the same profile.
- Dr. Chilton was

a woeful surgeon -
dangerous, even.

I've been chatting with some
of his old medical school chums.

They say he fled to psychiatry
to avoid embarrassment.

My story

with the Chesapeake Ripper
already has an ending, Freddie.

Mine doesn't.

Do you really think Dr. Chilton
killed Abigail Hobbs?

I don't.

Even if I let this story go,

I will never let that go.

Trust me, Freddie...

...neither will I.

You know you will
have to kill him, Margot.

You've known it for years.

- I may have missed my opportunity.
- Do you know

why you failed
to murder him, Margot?

Poor planning.

You failed to murder your brother
because you still love him.

In love, you take leave
of your senses, but in hatred,

you must be present
to calculate your actions.

Allow yourself to hate him.

Do you think Mason will just
give you what you want?

You'll be begging him
for the rest of your life.

Did begging help
when he tore you?

Same thing as taking his chocolate
and letting him have his way.

I'm lucky I didn't kill him.

Papa's will was very clear.

Upon the passing
of his beloved son Mason,

in the absence
of a legitimate male heir,

the sole beneficiary shall be
the Southern Baptist Convention.

Even in death, Mason would
take everything from you.

One of the most powerful forces
that shapes us as human beings

is the desire to leave a legacy.

What legacy would you
leave behind?

I don't get a legacy.

Unless you make one.

Have a good ride?

Here, put him away.

What do you want?

What do I want?
What do I want?

What do I want?
What do I want?

I... want... to...

share something

with you.

This is

Pavlov. Say hello, Pavlov.
(pig squealing)

Say hello.

Margot, say hello to Pavlov.

Hi, pretty.

After Papa died,
I had a Christmas epiphany.

I've seen exotic pigs
from all over the world.

What would happen

if I brought together

the best of all that I had seen?

You built a maze.

I shudder to think.

I feel like Stradivarius.

Our father was a pioneer

in livestock production.
I think he'd be...

he'd be proud of my efforts.

A pig is not like other animals.

There is a spark
of intelligence,

a terrible practicality in pigs.

(pigs snorting)

Well, you do have
an unparalleled understanding

of piggishness.
(He laughs.)

Your mouth gets rough
when you're scared, Margot.

Tough as a livery pony

who is resentful of the bit.

The structure is designed

to excite and
antagonize the pigs.

It's taken a while to find

the perfect mix.
Any pig will eat a dead man,

but to get him
to eat a live one,

some... education is required.

Carlo is experienced
in this field.

He actually fed a man to pigs
in Tuscany 20 years ago.

That's one of my suits.

I'll buy you a new one.

We... stuff the clothes
with meat,

scent it with
human smells, and play

the screams every time
they are fed.

Come the real thing,
we won't need the recording.

(woman screaming)

(gate opening)

(pigs snorting excitedly)

It's not just about

making Papa proud.
It's about us.

It's about... family.

I want you to be proud
of me too, Margot.

You're all I have.

And, uh...
I'm all you have.

(pigs snorting excitedly)

And this little piggy went

"eeeeeeeeee-eeeeeee-eeee,"
all the way home.

- It sounds like I'm killing it.
- You are killing it.

Don't kill it.

A theremin is an instrument
that can create exquisite music

without ever needing
to be touched, but...

it requires the rare gift

of perfect pitch
to play properly.

(theremin tone)

(knocking on door)

I've come to replenish
your stores.

Feel the vibration
moving through you.

Feel it here.

And here.

It's like composing in thin air.

Thin air is a musician's canvas.

What happened to your window?

A stag got lost in the storm,

came through there.

Got a few scratches
getting him out.

Are you scarred?

Probably more than I know.

I'll show you mine
if you show me yours.

I don't have the right parts
for your proclivities, Margot.

(theramin tone)

It's a very

psychological instrument.
(both chuckling)

Yes, we work
with people the same way.

Never touching...

- Yeah.
- ...but guiding them from

dissonance toward composition.

(Alana): But people
are not instruments.

Whatever it is
you're playing, Hannibal,

you have to listen
very carefully

to what you're creating.

I am listening.

I'm listening to you.

You and I went so long
in our friendship

without ever touching, yet
I always felt attuned to you.

Who did this to you?

My brother.

Who shot you?

A friend.

I've always admired teachers,
molding impressionable young minds.

But you can only learn
so much and live.

No one likes
a know-it-all, Freddie.

Hannibal Lecter taught you when you
were an impressionable young mind.

Your book's about Will Graham,
it's not about me.

Were you sleeping
with Hannibal Lecter

when you were his student,
or is that a recent development?

Oh, you are sleeping with him.
I was just guessing.

Figured you had to be sleeping
with one of them.

Maybe that's why
you can't see it.

See what?

Will Graham was right about.

Hannibal Lecter...

and I was right
about Will Graham.

I'm not having this

or any other conversation
with you, Freddie.

Hannibal Lecter had
four patients die

while under his care.
Three former patients die

after his care, and then
there's Will Graham.

All that fuss about Dr. Lecter.
Will even tried to kill him.

And now they're back
in therapy together,

and another
former patient is dead.

Will understands that
Hannibal Lecter can help him.

Maybe what Will understands is,

if you can't beat
Hannibal Lecter,

join him.

(pigs snorting)

Dr. Lecter.

Mason Verger.

So very nice to meet you.

Thank you for accepting
my invitation.

I'm prone
to old-world politeness.

Would have seemed rude
to say no.

Since I'm paying for Margot's
therapy, I thought I should

at the very least
meet her psychiatrist.

I enjoy putting a face
to the name.

(pigs snorting)

Your swine are exceptional.

Never seen pigs like these.

They're a special breed.

Product of many years,
many litters.

What's your ground note?

We started with

Giant Forest pigs,
6 teats, 38 chromosomes,

a resourceful feeder,

and an opportunistic omnivore.

Just like man.

You must know pigs

as well as you know people.

- I do know pigs.
- Papa would've loved you.

He could feel the face of a hog and tell
by the bone structure its genetic makeup.

Breeding was very important
to my father.

Margot really pissed him off
with all her...

button stitching.
No breeding there.

Do you have a sister,
Dr. Lecter?

I had a sister.

Then you understand
my need to protect

Margot - mostly from herself.
She's pathological.

I'm sure she's told you
horrible things that I've done.

I can't tell you
what Margot's confessed to me.

Fortunately for you,
I can't tell anyone.

(laughing)

(Mason clears his throat.)
Got me.

Even the worst of us need
someone to talk to, Mason.

Have you ever considered
therapy for yourself?

Maybe I should.

Can I have Carlo
slaughter you a hog?

A token of my appreciation
for all that you do for Margot.

Please.

But I must insist
on selecting my own pig.

Always do.

♪♪♪
(Chopin "Raindrop" prelude)

Brined and roasted...

whole suckling pig.

A gift from a friend.

A friend of yours,
not a friend of the pig's.

There are those
who raise livestock

and have a genuine
affection for them.

The farmer who hand rears
lambs loves them

and sends them to slaughter.

- They love and kill what they love.
- And eat what they love.

It's a paradox.

Freddie Lounds thinks
the two of you are a paradox.

She sees something
no one else sees.

What's that?

That neither of you is
the killer she's writing about,

but together, you might be.

Freddie Lounds must consider
you a bland interview subject

if she's already resorted
to fiction.

She won't be
fenced in by something

as malleable as the truth.
Freddie has no boundaries.

Someone with no boundaries
is a psychopath.

Or a journalist.

Freddie isn't the only one
without boundaries.

Your relationship doesn't
seem to know many.

Patient and therapist,

friend and enemy.

Crossing boundaries is
different than violating them.

Boundaries will always be
subject to negotiation.

It's just hard to know
where you are with each other.

We know where we are
with each other.

Shouldn't that be enough?

Better the devil you know.

(dogs barking)

(wind chimes)

There really is a very good
explanation for all this.

I don't want to hear it.

Not just a little bit curious?

Get away from the door.

I can't let you go, Freddie.

Not till you've heard
what I have to say.

I know you're scared.

You only have to be scared

a moment longer.

Give me the gun.

(She screams.)

Ah!

Ahh! Ah! No!

(Freddie screaming)

(Freddie screaming)

(Screaming cuts out.)

(Jack): Freddie Lounds left me
that message three hours ago.

Her cell signal is dead now.

Last call was traced
to the nearest phone tower in,

uh, Wolf Trap, Virginia.

We have her on security cameras
at a gas station,

filling up her car -

six miles from your farm.

Freddie was supposed
to interview me.

She never showed up.

Why are you granting
interviews to Freddie Lounds?

I owed her one.

Surely, Freddie Lounds
has more enemies than Will.

Not in Wolf Trap, Virginia.

I live in the middle of nowhere,
Jack; if someone wanted to take her,

it's... not
a bad place to do it.

And I provide the ingredients.

You tell me what we should
do with them.

What's the meat?

What do you think?

Veal?

(smelling) Pork, perhaps?

She was a slim and delicate pig.

I'll make you lomo saltado.

We will make it together.

You slice the ginger.

♪♪♪
(Mahler: Symphony #5, Adagietto)

The meat has
an interesting flavour.

It's brazing.

Notes of citrus.

My palate isn't
as refined as yours.

Apart from humane
considerations,

it's more flavourful
for animals to be stress-free

prior to slaughter.

This animal tastes frightened.

What does "frightened"
taste like?

It's acidic.

The meat is bitter

about being dead.

This meat is not pork.

It's long pig.

You can't reduce me to...

a set of influences.

I'm not the product of anything.

I've given up good and evil

for behaviourism.

Then you can't say
that I'm evil.

You're destructive.

Same thing.

Evil is just destructive?

Storms are evil,
if it's that simple.

And we have fire,
and then there's hail.

Underwriters lump it all
under "Acts of God".

Is this meat
an act of God, Will?