Therein lies the triumph, again, of what Mikkelsen is doing each week on Hannibal. After four novels, five movies, countless knockoffs, and just as many parodies, the actor has made Lecter unpredictable and unknowable again. There’s a certain irony in seeing this character revitalized through a tenure on TV, his appearances as regular as a weekly therapy session. After all, isn’t it overexposure that’s reduced Lecter to a shadow of his former self, a punchline, just another quotable slasher mascot to which audiences became gradually inoculated? But Hannibal proves that no monster is dead if there’s a way to send a few jolts of new energy through its corpse—or, perhaps more apropos of this monster, to shroud an old evil in a brand new coat of flesh.