Anthony Hopkins
Anthony Hopkins
The hat Anthony Hopkins in the movie Hannibal was a crime against the character. Why did the wardrobe
department decide on that cheap factory hat?
Did you read the books? Hannibal Lecter had exquisite taste.
Wikipedia agrees:
“All media in which Lecter appears portray him as intellectually brilliant, cultured and sophisticated,
with refined tastes in art, music and cuisine.”
He indulged himself with the best of everything, the best of the best. Stationery, wine, clothes,
everything. So why did the wardrobe department put a crap hat on him?
Lecter never would have worn that hat. Never would have worn a factory hat.
Hannibal Lecter would have worn a Montecristi hat. It would have been the best of the best. It would
have been woven in the village of Pile (pee-lay). And it most certainly would have been woven by Simón
Espinal.
England’s King Edward VI instructed his Bond Street hat maker to obtain for him “the finest Panama
available.”
Lecter would have wanted the same, the finest Montecristi hat available. He would have done his
research. He would have learned of Montecristi. He would have learned of the village of Pile. He would
have found out Simón Espinal is the best weaver who ever lived. He would have found the only
representative of Simón’s hats, for more than twenty years. He would have found the godfather to Simón’s
granddaughters. He would have found me.
That would have been fine, so long as Dr. Lecterjust bought the hat, and didn’t inviteme over for
dinner.
Mr. Hopkins, himself, may have tastes as refined and sophisticated as Dr. Lecter. Certainly more refined
than that wardrobe department.
Mr. Hopkins wanted to buy one, too. Of course he did. Who wouldn’t?
His mother wouldn’t let him.
She thought they were too expensive. Wrong. Probably the best value in the store, when you consider how
many hours of skilled hand work goes into every hat.
They left without a hat.
Had I known, I would have been hugely disappointed.
Mr. Hopkins is a smart man, who knows what he wants. He also knows his net worth. He waited for his
mother to take a nap, then went back to the store and bought himself a hat. Of course he did. Who
wouldn’t?
There were no Simón Espinal hats in the shop, but the hat he chose was much, much closer to what
Hannibal would have worn.
I’d have been okay if Mr. Hopkins, himself, had invited me over for dinner.
He didn’t.
Text and photos © 1988-2022, B. Brent Black. All rights reserved.
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