Hannibal s03e02 Episode Script
Primavera
Previously on Hannibal I've killed hardly anybody during our residence.
What are you doing in Florence, you working with Roman? Roman is speaking to the Studiolo Friday.
You should come.
What wickedness has your attention, Mr.
Dimmond? - Yours, Dr.
Fell.
- Are you here to twist me - into an uncomfortable position? - I'm here to help you untwist.
Snails prefereating with company.
If only that company could be Will Graham.
Is Will Graham still alive? Will was not a suitable substitute for therapy.
What have you done, Hannibal? Abigail I didn't know what else to do, so I just did what he told me.
Where is he? You were supposed to leave.
We couldn't leave without you.
Time did reverse.
The teacup that I shattered dared to come together.
A place was made for Abigail in your world.
Do you understand? That place was made for all of us.
Together.
I wanted to surprise you.
And you You wanted to surprise me.
I let you know me.
See me.
I gave you a rare gift.
- But you didn't want it.
- Didn't I? You would deny me my life.
No No.
Not your life.
My freedom, then.
You would take that from me.
Confine me to a prison cell.
Do you believe you could change me the way I've changed you? I already did.
Fate and circumstance have returned us to this moment when the teacup shatters.
I forgive you, Will.
Will you forgive me? Don't Don't Oh, no No, no No No Ah! Ah! Ah! You can make it all go away.
Put your head back.
Close your eyes.
Wade into the quiet of the stream.
How do you feel? Thirsty.
There's someone here very anxious to see you.
They told me he knew exactly how to cut me.
They said it was surgical.
He wanted us to live.
He left us to die.
But we didn't.
He was supposed to take me with him.
We were all supposed to leave together.
He made a place for us.
- Abigail - Why did you lie to him? The wrong thing being the right thing to do was was too ugly a thought.
He gave you a chance to take it all back and you just kept lying.
No one had to die.
It's hard to grasp what would've happened, what could've happened, and in some other world did happen.
I'm having a hard enough time dealing with this world.
Hope some of the other worlds are easier on me.
Everything that can happen, happens.
It has to end well and it has to end badly.
It has to end every way it can.
This is the way it ended for us.
We don't have an ending.
He didn't give us one yet.
He wants us to find him.
After everything he's done, you'd still go to him? If everything that can happen, happens, then you can never really do the wrong thing.
You're just doing what you're supposed to.
When we have gone from this life, I will always have this place.
In your "memory palace"? My palace is vast, even by medieval standards.
The foyer is the Norman Chapel in Palermo; severe, beautiful, and timeless, with a single reminder of mortality: a skull graven in the floor.
Even in an enlightened world, we come here to feel closer to God.
Do you feel closer to God? God's not who I came here to find.
Do you believe in God? What I believe is closer to science fiction than anything in the Bible.
We all know it, but nobody ever says that G-dash-D won't do a G-dash-D-damned thing to answer anybody's prayers.
God can't save any of us because it's inelegant.
Elegance is more important than suffering.
That's His design.
You talking about God or Hannibal? Hannibal's not God.
Wouldn't have any fun being God.
Defying God, that's his idea of a good time.
Nothing would thrill Hannibal more than to see this roof collapse mid-Mass, packed pews, choir singing He would just love it.
And he thinks God would love it, too.
Is it him? Per favore, signore.
à proibito qui.
La cappella è chiusa.
LaManna, non lasciarlo uscire.
- Voglio parlare con lui.
- What did he say? He said he wants to talk to you.
Signor Graham Chief Investigator Rinaldo Pazzi.
Questura di Firenze.
You're a long way from Florence.
You're a long way from Baltimore.
I read everything I can find on FBI profiling methods.
I read all about your incarceration.
Keep reading.
I was acquitted.
You come to Palermo and soon very soon a body is discovered.
The priest at the Cappella dei Normanni said you have been spending a lot of time there.
I've been praying.
There is some comfort in prayer.
It leaves you with the distinct feeling you're not alone.
Signore Vieni con me.
Ciao.
Is Will Graham here because of the body at the cappella, or is the body here because of Will Graham? - Why are you here? - I'm like you.
I do what you do.
We share the gift of imagination.
I've got the scars of a man who grabbed his gift by the blade.
You grabbed the wrong end.
Those moments when the connection is made, that is my keenest pleasure.
Knowing.
Knowing.
Not feeling, not thinking.
You know who murdered that man and left him in the Cappella Palatina.
Don't you know? I met him 20 years ago.
Il Mostro, the Monster of Florence.
It was his custom to arrange his victims like a beautiful painting.
Il Mostro created images that stayed in my mind.
I was dwelling on a couple found slain in the bed of a pickup truck in Impruneta.
Bodies placed garlanded with flowers Like a Botticelli.
Exactly like a Botticelli.
His painting Primavera still hangs in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, just as it did 20 years ago.
The garlanded nymph on the right, the flowers streaming from her mouth, match.
Match The Uffizi Gallery that's where you met il Mostro.
That's where I met this man.
The Monster of Florence.
Success comes as a result of inspiration.
Revelation is the development of an image, first blurred, then coming clear.
To find the inspiration il Mostro used was a triumph.
I went to the Uffizi and stood before the original Primavera day after day and most days I'd see a young Lithuanian man as transfixed by the Botticelli as I was; as transfixed as I imagined il Mostro would be.
And every day I saw him he would recreate Primavera in pencil, just as he did in flesh.
I knew.
It was the best moment of my life, a moment of epiphany that made me famous and then ruined me.
In haste and the heat of ambition, the Questura nearly destroyed the young man's home - trying to find evidence.
- Well - He doesn't leave evidence.
- No, he doesn't.
He eats it.
Another man not an innocent man, but innocent of those crimes was a dream suspect.
He was convicted on no evidence except his character.
Blame has a habit of not sticking to Hannibal Lecter.
Hmm.
It has a habit of sticking to you.
I splintered every bone, fractured them dynamically.
Made you malleable.
I skinned you, bent you, twisted you and trimmed you, head, hands, arms, and legs.
A topiary.
This is my design.
A valentine written on a broken man.
Will I do feel closer to Hannibal here.
God only knows where I'd be without him.
He left us his, uh his broken heart.
How did he know we were here? He didn't.
But he knew we would come.
He misses us.
Hannibal follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any and one of the trains is always for his own amusement.
He's playing with us.
Always.
You still want to go with him? Yes.
He gave you back to me then he took you away.
It's Lucy and the football.
He just keeps pulling you away.
What if no one died? What if What if we all left together? Like we were supposed to, after he served the lamb.
Where would we have gone? In some other world? In some other world.
He said he made a place for us.
A place was made for you, Abigail, in this world.
It was the only place I could make for you.
Are you praying? Hannibal doesn't pray.
But he believes in God intimately.
I wasn't asking Hannibal Lecter.
I think my prayers would feel constricted by the saints and apostles and Jesus Pantocrator.
How do your prayers feel? I hope my prayers escaped, flown from here to the open sky and God.
Praying you catch him? You should be praying he doesn't capture you.
I didn't head the Questura di Firenze for nothing.
You couldn't catch him when he was just a kid; what makes you think you're - going to catch him now? - You.
What makes you think I want to catch him? Signor Graham If you could possibly be content, I would suggest you let il Mostro go.
I can't do that any more than you can.
He's going to kill you, you know.
I'm usually right about these things.
He let you know him.
He sent you his heart.
Where has he gone now? He hasn't gone anywhere.
He's still here.
Hannibal! Signor Graham? You shouldn't be down here alone.
I'm not alone.
I'm with you.
You don't know whose side I'm on.
What are you going to do when you find him, your il Mostro? I'm I'm curious about that myself.
You and I carry the dead with us, Signor Graham.
We both need to unburden.
Why don't you carry your dead back to the chapel before you count yourself among them? You are already dead, aren't you? Buonanotte, commendatore.
Hannibal I forgive you.
What are you doing in Florence, you working with Roman? Roman is speaking to the Studiolo Friday.
You should come.
What wickedness has your attention, Mr.
Dimmond? - Yours, Dr.
Fell.
- Are you here to twist me - into an uncomfortable position? - I'm here to help you untwist.
Snails prefereating with company.
If only that company could be Will Graham.
Is Will Graham still alive? Will was not a suitable substitute for therapy.
What have you done, Hannibal? Abigail I didn't know what else to do, so I just did what he told me.
Where is he? You were supposed to leave.
We couldn't leave without you.
Time did reverse.
The teacup that I shattered dared to come together.
A place was made for Abigail in your world.
Do you understand? That place was made for all of us.
Together.
I wanted to surprise you.
And you You wanted to surprise me.
I let you know me.
See me.
I gave you a rare gift.
- But you didn't want it.
- Didn't I? You would deny me my life.
No No.
Not your life.
My freedom, then.
You would take that from me.
Confine me to a prison cell.
Do you believe you could change me the way I've changed you? I already did.
Fate and circumstance have returned us to this moment when the teacup shatters.
I forgive you, Will.
Will you forgive me? Don't Don't Oh, no No, no No No Ah! Ah! Ah! You can make it all go away.
Put your head back.
Close your eyes.
Wade into the quiet of the stream.
How do you feel? Thirsty.
There's someone here very anxious to see you.
They told me he knew exactly how to cut me.
They said it was surgical.
He wanted us to live.
He left us to die.
But we didn't.
He was supposed to take me with him.
We were all supposed to leave together.
He made a place for us.
- Abigail - Why did you lie to him? The wrong thing being the right thing to do was was too ugly a thought.
He gave you a chance to take it all back and you just kept lying.
No one had to die.
It's hard to grasp what would've happened, what could've happened, and in some other world did happen.
I'm having a hard enough time dealing with this world.
Hope some of the other worlds are easier on me.
Everything that can happen, happens.
It has to end well and it has to end badly.
It has to end every way it can.
This is the way it ended for us.
We don't have an ending.
He didn't give us one yet.
He wants us to find him.
After everything he's done, you'd still go to him? If everything that can happen, happens, then you can never really do the wrong thing.
You're just doing what you're supposed to.
When we have gone from this life, I will always have this place.
In your "memory palace"? My palace is vast, even by medieval standards.
The foyer is the Norman Chapel in Palermo; severe, beautiful, and timeless, with a single reminder of mortality: a skull graven in the floor.
Even in an enlightened world, we come here to feel closer to God.
Do you feel closer to God? God's not who I came here to find.
Do you believe in God? What I believe is closer to science fiction than anything in the Bible.
We all know it, but nobody ever says that G-dash-D won't do a G-dash-D-damned thing to answer anybody's prayers.
God can't save any of us because it's inelegant.
Elegance is more important than suffering.
That's His design.
You talking about God or Hannibal? Hannibal's not God.
Wouldn't have any fun being God.
Defying God, that's his idea of a good time.
Nothing would thrill Hannibal more than to see this roof collapse mid-Mass, packed pews, choir singing He would just love it.
And he thinks God would love it, too.
Is it him? Per favore, signore.
à proibito qui.
La cappella è chiusa.
LaManna, non lasciarlo uscire.
- Voglio parlare con lui.
- What did he say? He said he wants to talk to you.
Signor Graham Chief Investigator Rinaldo Pazzi.
Questura di Firenze.
You're a long way from Florence.
You're a long way from Baltimore.
I read everything I can find on FBI profiling methods.
I read all about your incarceration.
Keep reading.
I was acquitted.
You come to Palermo and soon very soon a body is discovered.
The priest at the Cappella dei Normanni said you have been spending a lot of time there.
I've been praying.
There is some comfort in prayer.
It leaves you with the distinct feeling you're not alone.
Signore Vieni con me.
Ciao.
Is Will Graham here because of the body at the cappella, or is the body here because of Will Graham? - Why are you here? - I'm like you.
I do what you do.
We share the gift of imagination.
I've got the scars of a man who grabbed his gift by the blade.
You grabbed the wrong end.
Those moments when the connection is made, that is my keenest pleasure.
Knowing.
Knowing.
Not feeling, not thinking.
You know who murdered that man and left him in the Cappella Palatina.
Don't you know? I met him 20 years ago.
Il Mostro, the Monster of Florence.
It was his custom to arrange his victims like a beautiful painting.
Il Mostro created images that stayed in my mind.
I was dwelling on a couple found slain in the bed of a pickup truck in Impruneta.
Bodies placed garlanded with flowers Like a Botticelli.
Exactly like a Botticelli.
His painting Primavera still hangs in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, just as it did 20 years ago.
The garlanded nymph on the right, the flowers streaming from her mouth, match.
Match The Uffizi Gallery that's where you met il Mostro.
That's where I met this man.
The Monster of Florence.
Success comes as a result of inspiration.
Revelation is the development of an image, first blurred, then coming clear.
To find the inspiration il Mostro used was a triumph.
I went to the Uffizi and stood before the original Primavera day after day and most days I'd see a young Lithuanian man as transfixed by the Botticelli as I was; as transfixed as I imagined il Mostro would be.
And every day I saw him he would recreate Primavera in pencil, just as he did in flesh.
I knew.
It was the best moment of my life, a moment of epiphany that made me famous and then ruined me.
In haste and the heat of ambition, the Questura nearly destroyed the young man's home - trying to find evidence.
- Well - He doesn't leave evidence.
- No, he doesn't.
He eats it.
Another man not an innocent man, but innocent of those crimes was a dream suspect.
He was convicted on no evidence except his character.
Blame has a habit of not sticking to Hannibal Lecter.
Hmm.
It has a habit of sticking to you.
I splintered every bone, fractured them dynamically.
Made you malleable.
I skinned you, bent you, twisted you and trimmed you, head, hands, arms, and legs.
A topiary.
This is my design.
A valentine written on a broken man.
Will I do feel closer to Hannibal here.
God only knows where I'd be without him.
He left us his, uh his broken heart.
How did he know we were here? He didn't.
But he knew we would come.
He misses us.
Hannibal follows several trains of thought at once without distraction from any and one of the trains is always for his own amusement.
He's playing with us.
Always.
You still want to go with him? Yes.
He gave you back to me then he took you away.
It's Lucy and the football.
He just keeps pulling you away.
What if no one died? What if What if we all left together? Like we were supposed to, after he served the lamb.
Where would we have gone? In some other world? In some other world.
He said he made a place for us.
A place was made for you, Abigail, in this world.
It was the only place I could make for you.
Are you praying? Hannibal doesn't pray.
But he believes in God intimately.
I wasn't asking Hannibal Lecter.
I think my prayers would feel constricted by the saints and apostles and Jesus Pantocrator.
How do your prayers feel? I hope my prayers escaped, flown from here to the open sky and God.
Praying you catch him? You should be praying he doesn't capture you.
I didn't head the Questura di Firenze for nothing.
You couldn't catch him when he was just a kid; what makes you think you're - going to catch him now? - You.
What makes you think I want to catch him? Signor Graham If you could possibly be content, I would suggest you let il Mostro go.
I can't do that any more than you can.
He's going to kill you, you know.
I'm usually right about these things.
He let you know him.
He sent you his heart.
Where has he gone now? He hasn't gone anywhere.
He's still here.
Hannibal! Signor Graham? You shouldn't be down here alone.
I'm not alone.
I'm with you.
You don't know whose side I'm on.
What are you going to do when you find him, your il Mostro? I'm I'm curious about that myself.
You and I carry the dead with us, Signor Graham.
We both need to unburden.
Why don't you carry your dead back to the chapel before you count yourself among them? You are already dead, aren't you? Buonanotte, commendatore.
Hannibal I forgive you.