To date, Thomas Harris has written Hannibal novels while others have written their screenplays. With varied results the formula has more or less worked. Recently Harris wrote the critically savaged Hannibal Rising and, foolishly some would say, the screenplay. The evolution of his evil will be revealed pumps a teasing, and somewhat intriguing, tagline as we mine Hannibal Lector’s childhood for probable cause.

A young and recently orphaned boy in World War 2, Hannibal and his sister Mischa are attacked by starving thugs. Hannibal escapes the worst, but Mischa is eaten – Hannibal vows revenge. Some years later, his Japanese aunt teaches him the way of the Samurai from her extravagant French mansion, equipping the doctor-to-be with useful skills. The rest is history in the making. This daft premise might work with a sense of humour, yet Harris ensures his dull, plodding screenplay is all but that.

The phrase ‘Euro-pudding’ was coined for films like this. Set in Lithuania and France, filmed in Czech Republic, made with US and Italian money – the results are muddied at best. Yet it’s worse. Harris has written a confused, unconvincing script that commits the ultimate sin by boring its audience. None of the taught psychology that defined Silence of the Lambs is present. Hannibal Rising is, by contrast, a witless, gratuitous exercise in violent revenge that makes you want to scream: ‘he’s not a cannibal, he’s just a very naughty boy!” It looks rather pretty in an over-produced kind of way; Peter Webber directed the sumptuous Girl With A Pear Earring. In all other respects, Hannibal Rising is the kind of film for which a one word review would suffice.

// COLIN FRASER