After a chilling introduction (courtesy of Brian Cox) in Michael Mann's Manhunter, followed by Anthony Hopkins' definitive interpretation in The Silence of the Lambs, filmmakers (Dino DeLaurentiis, I'm looking at you) have effectively drained every ounce of fun from the character of Hannibal Lecter. In fact, the only restraint shown by Hollywood all this time has been a reluctance to create a Lecter movie without a novel by Thomas Harris (Lecter's creator) to adapt it from. Now even that rubicon is being crossed.

Hollywood is making another Hannibal Lecter movie. No new Harris novel (not that the last two were any good, but whatever), no justification other than money. They've even roped Cate Blanchett into starring as Clarice Starling, because acting in good movies has apparently proven too easy for her.

Really, if Anthony Hopkins needs to make a mortgage payment this badly, he can just stay with me. I've got an extra room with his name on it. But if he goes through with this new Hannibal movie, the only room worthy of him will be the one with the toilet.