The Making of 'The Silence of the Lambs' Page #2
- Year:
- 1991
- 8 min
- 457 Views
That is the Duomo
seen from the Belvedere.
- Do you know Florence?
- All that detail just from memory, sir?
Memory, Agent Starling,
is what I have instead of a view.
Well, perhaps you'd care to lend us
your view on this questionnaire, sir.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
You were doing fine. You had been
courteous and receptive to courtesy.
You had established trust, with
the embarrassing truth about Miggs.
And now this ham-handed segue
into your questionnaire.
- It won't do.
- I'm only asking you to look at this.
Either you will or you won't.
Yeah. Jack Crawford
must be very busy indeed
if he's recruiting help
from the student body.
Busy hunting that new one: Buffalo Bill.
What a naughty boy he is.
Do you know why he's called Buffalo Bill?
Please tell me.
The newspapers won't say.
It started as a bad joke
in Kansas City Homicide.
They said
"This one likes to skin his humps."
Why do you think he removes
their skins, Agent Starling?
Thrill me with your acumen.
It ex cites him. Most serial killers keep
some sort of trophies from their victims.
- I didn't.
- No. No, you ate yours.
You send that through now.
Oh, Agent Starling, you think you can
dissect me with this blunt little tool?
No. I thought that your knowledge...
You're so ambitious, aren't you?
Do you know what you look like, with
your good bag and your cheap shoes?
You look like a rube.
A well-scrubbed, hustling rube,
with a little taste.
Good nutrition's given you length of bone,
but you're not more than one generation
from poor white trash, are you?
And that accent you've tried so
desperately to shed: pure West Virginia.
What is your father, dear? Is he
a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp?
How quickly the boys found you.
All those tedious, sticky fumblings
in the back seats of cars,
getting out, getting anywhere,
getting all the way to the FBI.
You see a lot, Doctor.
But are you strong enough to point
that high-powered perception at yourself?
What about it? Why don't you look at
yourself and write down what you see?
A census taker once tried to test me.
I ate his liver with some fava beans
and a nice Chianti.
You fly back to school now, little Starling.
Fly, fly, fly.
I bit my wrist so I can die.
Look at the blood!
- Got ya!
- Miggs, you stupid f***!
- I'm gonna kill him!
- Agent Starling! Come back!
Agent Starling! Agent Starling!
I would not have had that happen to you.
- Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly.
- Then do this test.
No, but I'll give you a chance
for what you love most.
- And what is that?
- Advancement. Listen carefully.
Look deep within yourself,
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