The Silence of the Lambs is, for the most part, a pretty straightforward movie. But it does have two bits of subtext I think are pretty cool. The first has to do with time. And the second with the male gaze.
So let’s dive in and explain the ending, covering some themes and meaning along the way.
Silence of the Lambs ending explained
Silencing the lambs
The film positions Clarice at this midpoint in her life. She’s out of college, an FBI trainee, who has her whole future ahead of her. But her future is tied to the Buffalo Bill case that’s very much unfolding in the present. If she does well, it could catapult her up the ranks of the FBI. And that’s important because this is the year 1990; while women were in the FBI, it was still a very male-focused place, meaning the opportunities to climb the ladder were less for women than for men. In fact, as recently as 2024, there was a lawsuit against the FBI for “unfairly dismissing [34 women] from its agent training program because of their gender…”
So this case could make or break her entire career. But, to solve it, she has to acquire information from Hannibal Lecter. And Hannibal will only share what he knows if Clarice reveals her most traumatic life experience to him. That trauma happens to be rooted in Clarice’s childhood.
Let’s look at the conversation. Notice, that right away Lecter sets time as a frame for the conversation. It’s in the context of solving the crime but the crime is a metaphor for working through your own trauma before it costs you opportunities in the present and future.
The conversation with Lecter
- Lecter: Pity about poor Catherine, though. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
- Clarice: Your anagrams are showing, Doctor. Louis Friend. Iron Sulfide, also known as fool’s gold.
- L: Oh, Clarice, your problem is you need to get more fun out of life.
- C: You were telling me the truth back in Baltimore, sir. Please continue now.
- L: I’ve read the case files. Have you? Everything you need to find him is right there in those pages.
Note how the answer is already there. Clarice just can’t see it yet because her perspective on the case is blocked by a refusal to look at Bill’s past. Why? It’s a metaphoric extension of her refusal to confront her own past. Which is exactly what Lecter leads the conversation to.
- C: Then tell me how.
- L: First principles, Clarice. Simplicity. Read Marcus Aurelius. Of each particular thing, ask what is it in itself? What is its nature? What does he do, this man you seek?
- C: He kills women.
- L: No, that is incidental. What is the first thing he does? What needs does he serve by killing?
- C: Anger? Social acceptance? Sexual frustration?
- L: No. He covets. That is his nature. And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet? Make an effort now.
- C: No. We just—
- L. No, we begin by coveting what we see every day. Don’t you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don’t your eyes seek out the things you want?
I highlighted the portion about “eyes moving over your body” because it’s the in-road to the second theme we’ll be talking about.
- C: All right, yes. Now, please tell me how—
- L: No. It is your turn to tell me, Clarice. You don’t have any more vacations to sell. Why did you leave that ranch?
- C: Doctor, we don’t have any more time for any of this now.
- L: But we don’t reckon time the same way, do we? This is all the time you’ll ever have.
- C: Later! Listen to me, we’ve only got five—
- L: No! I will listen now. After your father’s murder, you were orphaned. You went to live with cousins on a sheep and horse ranch in Montana. And?
- C: And one morning I just ran away.
- L: Not “just”, Clarice. What see you off? You started at what time?
- C: Early. Still dark.
- L: Then something woke you, didn’t it? Was it a dream? What was it?
- C: I heard a strange noise.
- L: What was it?
- C: It was screaming. Some kind of screaming. Like a child’s voice.
- L: What did you do?
- C: I went downstairs. Outside. I crept up into the barn. I was so scared to look inside, but I had to.
- L: What did you see, Clarice? What did you see?
- C: Lambs. They were screaming
- L: They were slaughtering the spring lambs?
- C: And they were screaming.
- L: And you ran away?
- C: No. First I tried to free them. I opened the gate to their pen, but they wouldn’t run. They just stood there, confused. They wouldn’t run.
- L: But you could. And you did, didn’t you?
- C: Yes. I took one lamb and I ran away as fast as I could.
- L: Where were you going, Clarice?
- C: I don’t know. I didn’t have any food, any water, and it was very cold…very cold…I thought…I thought if I could save just one…but…he was so heavy…so heavy. I didn’t get more than a few miles when the sheriff’s car picked me up. The rancher was so angry, he sent me to live at the orphanage in Bozeman. I never saw the ranch again.
- L: What became of the lamb, Clarice?
- C: He killed him.
- L: You still wake up, sometimes, don’t you? Wake up in the dark and hear the screaming of the lambs?
- C: Yes.
- L: And you think, if you save poor Catherine, you could make them stop, don’t you? You think if Catherine lives, you won’t wake up in the dark ever again, to that awful screaming of the lambs.
Lecter turns the subtext of the case, the metaphor of it, into text, exposition. Clarice’s dad was a night marshal who died trying to stop a robbery. He protected people, but no one was there to protect him. Clarice joined the FBI partially because it connects her to her father’s career. Partially because the power and authority of a federal organization makes her feel less powerless herself. She couldn’t help her dad. She couldn’t help the lambs. So she’s trying to position herself to have as many resources as possible to help someone, anyone. In this case: Catherine. If she saves Catherine, she takes the first step in feeling some sense of control regained.
Catching Buffalo Bill
Once Clarice breaks that barrier of being able to look at her own past, she can turn her attention to Bill’s. We get that conversation between her and her friend, and fellow trainee, Ardeila, where they figure out Bill had to have known Frederika, that he had observed her, coveted her. Keep in mind, this is all metaphorical for Clarice’s relationship with her own unresolved trauma. Even though she goes to Frederika’s home and not her own, even though she looks through Frederika’s bedroom and not her own, it represents Clarice being in her own past. You can view Bill as symbolic of the robber who shot her father. Stopping Bill is, in her mind, proving she could have saved her father, saved the lamb, etc.
You even get the symbolism of Clarice having to chase Bill down into the basement, into the lowest, darkest part of the house, which is the lowest, darkest part of her own heart and soul. Catherine in the pit is Clarice’s own younger, innocent self. When she confronts Bill, she confronts her own pain. And when she shoots him, she also hits the boarded up window so suddenly light fills the darkness. The metaphor there is pretty clear!
Having conquered this embodiment of her past, we jump ahead to Clarice graduating from trainee to Special Agent. She’s ready to move forward without the baggage she had carried for so long. The film has positioned Crawford as a mentor. So it’s meaningful that he’s there to congratulate her—it’s a very parental moment. He even says, “Your father would’ve been proud today.” In the world of the film, there’s nothing special about that. But as a work of art, Crawford becomes a literary device. He becomes the embodiment of Clarice’s father and the closure she now feels. She couldn’t save him, but she’s now able to save others. So the handshake with Crawford is a way to externalize that sense of catharsis, without doing something silly like showing Clarice’s dad as a force ghost.
When Hannibal Lecter calls Clarice, he asks if the lambs have stopped screaming. It’s a way to further acknowledge her sense of closure. Which brings us to what Hannibal represents.
Hannibal Lecter as a metaphor for all the bad stuff that awaits us
The film positions Bill as an embodiment of Clarice’s past. His case gained national attention because Catherine was the missing daughter of a U.S. Senator. But the truth of Bill was that he was a small town guy and a small town threat. Now think about Lecter. Lecter’s so much more sophisticated than Bill. And more dangerous. And, at the end, not “small town” but literally global, as he’s out of the country.
Taking on Lecter, as Clarice says she’ll have to do, will be an entirely different ball game. So if Bill represents this childhood trauma, something personal that you experience early on and have to move past to enter into the adult world. Then Lecter represents the more elaborate fear, peril, and terror that awaits in the adult world.
One of the weird realities of being an adult is realizing how mortal you are, how dangerous and random the world is, whether from accidents, disease, random acts of violence, nature, etc. Lecter is that danger that’s out there, unrecognizable, unpredictable, and you’ll encounter it when you least expect it. That’s the thing Clarice will have to come to terms with: the existential dread of adulthood. That makes Silence of the Lambs quite the intense coming of age story.
The male gaze
As a narrative nerd, I find all the stuff Silence of the Lambs does with time and using Bill and Lecter as metaphors for past and future to be pretty fascinating. But I don’t know how much that interests you. Hopefully it does! But that’s not my favorite part of Silence of the Lambs. My favorite part is how the film builds up the motif of the male gaze and culminates it in such a charged, and compelling way.
So, real fast, let’s talk about storytelling. It’s not really a story if a character goes to the store then comes home. But it’s a story if the character goes to the store with their significant other then comes home by themself. Or goes to the store alone but comes home with someone else. There’s a change that’s occurred. Story is the combination of what, why, and how change happens.
Good storytellers, advanced storytellers, understand the power of escalation. You start with a flame, you end with an inferno. If you start with an inferno, where do you go from there? I mean, you could start with an inferno, put out the inferno, show recovery from the inferno, then build up the threat of a new inferno and have the characters struggle to make sure it doesn’t happen again. In that case, escalation still occurs. In Alien, you start with an egg, you move to a facehugger, then a chestburster, then end up with a full-blown Xenomorph.
In Silence of the Lambs, Clarice begins at the FBI academy. It’s a place for training, where she’s safe from the consequences of the real world. Then she goes to talk to Lecter at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. It’s her first step out of the protected world she had been a part of. While it’s certainly scary and has an element of danger, it’s still a supervised environment where no real harm could befall her. But Dr. Chilton does hit on Clarice almost immediately. And there’s what Miggs throws on her. As the movie goes on, Clarice is increasingly out in the world, unsupervised. A sense of vulnerability builds, especially given the context of Bill’s crime.
- She goes out at night, by herself, to Lecter’s old storage unit, and it’s just her and the strange old man who owns the business and his silent driver. Some viewers probably never consider that something bad could happen to her. But others might be aware of the situation she’s in.
- The film juxtaposes Clarice being out at night with someone she doesn’t know with Catherine arriving home in the middle of the night and finding this man who can’t lift his couch into his van. She offers to help him and this turns out to be Bill and he kidnaps her.
- The next time Clarice leaves the safety of the academy, she’s off with Crawford, her FBI father figure. They attend the funeral for a recent Bill victim. Crawford doesn’t want to talk about details of the case in front of Clarice so heads into an office with the sheriff. So she’s treated like a child. Outside the office, the town’s local police surround her. All men who are older than her, who stare directly at her. We even get a POV shot where she looks from one group to another, and all of them eye her up.
- Clarice goes off on her own again, this time to the museum, where she talks with some moth/butterfly experts. it’s just her and the two men. Like the previous times, it doesn’t seem like she’s in any danger. But one guy does get personal. He stares at her then asks “What do you do when you’re not detecting, Agent Starling?” Then asks “Ever go out for cheeseburgers and beer?” When she asks if he’s hitting on her, he says “Yes.” It doesn’t go further than that, but the subtext of so many of Clarice’s other interactions with men is finally text. They look at her, they desire her. And often she has to ignore it.
- When Clarice goes back to Lecter, he doesn’t want to look at her like other men do. He wants to know her. It’s a different kind of coveting. And she has to essentially “undress” for Lecter to get the information she wants. In the midst of this interrogation, we get that line from Lecter—Don’t you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice?—that is supposed to make us think back to all the times we’ve seen in the movie where men look at Clarice. We should start thinking about what it means thematically.
- Clarice then goes to Ohio, to see where Frederika lived, because she’s discovered Bill had to have known Frederika and seen her often enough to “covet”. She finds the private photos of Frederika posing in her bra and underwear—photos for the male gaze. The movie initially makes us think Clarice is far away from the FBI raiding Bill’s house, only to reveal that, no, the FBI had the wrong house and Clarice is at the right one. She’s one on one with Bill, with no backup available. The viewer suddenly realizes the danger she’s in, how vulnerable she is.
That sudden vulnerability is what the movie had been building up to this entire time. Even at the academy, in the opening, when Clarice runs from the academy training course back to a main building, we see male trainees glance over at her. It’s quick and isn’t something anyone would probably pay attention to, but once you know the movie has this motif of the male gaze, you notice it. Same with her getting on an elevator full of men. And then when she encounters some agents outside Crawford’s office, they advise her to wait for Crawford, then let their gaze linger on her as she drifts across the room. This motif has been present, and consistent, from the very beginning, but always with the caveat of “No one will actually do anything, though.” But for every 1,000 who won’t do anything, there’s one who will. That’s what Bill represents.
Clarice and Bill finally move past the pretense and put their cards on the table. Clarice tries to command him and he doesn’t listen the way other men had throughout the film. The culmination of everything is when Clarice is in the basement and Bill cuts the power. He has on those night vision goggles. The imagery at this point switches back and forth from his perspective of Clarice, witnessed through the goggles, to reverse shots of him in the goggles. It’s the culmination of the male gaze motif. What had been mostly subtle, at other times overt, is now represented in this monstrous way via the goggles and the tension of being in Bill’s perspective as he reaches out a hand toward Clarice then raises the gun.
It’s through this male gaze motif that Silence of the Lambs makes a larger statement about what it’s like to be a woman in a world where men see you and covet you. With Bill being the extreme end of that, where he doesn’t just want to be with a woman but wants to claim a woman’s skin, her body, as his own. It’s an exaggeration of the desire the moth guy had when he couldn’t help but flirt with Clarice. That Chilton had when he tried to ask Clarice out. That’s what fiction often does. It takes something normal, like desire, and escalates it from “a guy simply asking a girl out because she’s pretty and it will make him feel powerful if she says yes” to “a guy trying to make a skin suit from women because he wants to own that beauty and feel powerful”. The exaggeration is unrealistic but at the same time captures the truth of how possessive some men can be, the lengths they will go to feel ownership of a woman, to hold her in their gaze.
I would argue it’s this use of motif and escalation that makes Silence of the Lambs such a classic. The story itself is great and memorable. But it becomes a work of art because it says something about the female experience, and does so in a way that men may understand. Don’t be the guy who stares, who covets.
Silence of the Lambs frequently asked questions
Does Silence of the Lambs stay close to the book?
The overall plot is pretty much the same but there are pretty large differences in the journey. The book has more characters, fully fleshed out characters, and an entirely different tone at the end. There’s a good breakdown from LitReactor.
What does the title The Silence of the Lambs mean?
As we discussed, the lambs become a metaphor for Clarice’s trauma over her father’s death. She felt powerless because she was a child who couldn’t save him. Then couldn’t save the lambs. So the title refers to this idea that Clarice might find closure regarding that sense of powerlessness in the world.
What year does Silence of the Lambs take place?
There’s evidence in the film that it’s at least 1989. So 1989-1990.
Is the death’s-head hawkmoth real? What symbolism do they have in the movie?
Yup! And the symbolism is tied to transformation. Moths and butterflies both begin as caterpillars, then enter chrysalides, then emerge in their final form. Bill wants to transform himself so the mother becomes an easy metaphor for that. And then using one called the “death’s-head” in a serial killer movie is just good synergy. But transformation isn’t just a theme for Bill. Clarice is also in a state of transformation. As she leaves “training” and takes her first steps as an actual agent, she has to come to terms with her childhood trauma and begin adulthood with a clean slate.
Why are Chilton and the guards so afraid of Lecter if Lecter’s imprisoned?
We see multiple examples of how dangerous Lecter is. First, we’re told Lecter talks Miggs into swallowing his own tongue, so we know just how intense his psychological attacks can be. But then he’s also incredibly resourceful. We see that when he uses Chilton’s pen to escape. Then how many layers and levels there are to his escape—cutting off the face of the officer to use as a decoy, putting “his” body on the roof of the elevator, so there would be time to take the “wounded officer” to the hospital. All this chaos unleashed by a little pen left in a cell.
Does Lecter have a code?
Lecter is complicated. He seems almost noble in how he treats Clarice. He’s more of a gentleman to her than, say, Dr. Chilton. And when Miggs flings semen on her, Lecter actually defends Clarice’s honor by retaliating against Miggs. So there’s this twisted version of chivalry. Because of that, the viewer might, for a time, come to think of Lecter as maybe a little bit misunderstood. Instead of a wild killer, maybe there was some code.
Except, no. When Lecter makes his escape, it’s a full on bloodbath. Whatever nobility Lecter may have possessed goes out the window, as he slays anyone necessary to make his escape, from the guards to the EMTs. As much as he likes to act like he’s more refined than others, more respectable, he’s still someone who gives over to his cravings. Which makes him less a killer with a code and more of a hypocrite.
Can you use a pen tip to open handcuffs?
It’s one of those movie-isms that just represents something more technical in the real world. Kind of like when someone shoots open a padlock. There’s actually a website where they tested this theory by shooting almost every kind of Master Lock. Only one of 10 actually failed to the point of being able to access what was inside.
Is Silence of the Lambs a sequel to Manhunter?
Yes and no? Both are part of the Hannibal book series by Thomas Harris. That series includes Red Dragon, Lambs, Hannibal, and a prequel called Hannibal Rising. Manhunter, released in 1986, was an initial attempt to adapt the series and was based on Red Dragon. It did not go well. The box office was only $8 million on a $14 million budget. Reviews weren’t great.
So when Demme did Silence of the Lambs, they removed all connection to Manhunter, aside from the characters of Lecter and Chilton. No actors from the previous movie reprised their roles for this one. Brian Cox had been Hannibal, Benjamin Hendrickson was Chilton. It was presented as a fresh story. By 200, they completed the whole Hopkins-verse of the main Hannibal trilogy: Red Dragon, Lambs, and Hannibal.
Cast
- Clarice Starling – Jodie Foster
- Dr. Hannibal Lecter – Anthony Hopkins
- Jame Gumb/Buffalo Bill – Ted Levine
- Precious – Darla
- Jack Crawford – Scott Glenn
- Dr. Chilton – Anthony Heald
- Ardelia Mapp – Kasi Lemmons
- Catherine Martin – Brooke Smith
- Senator Ruth Martin – Diane Baker
- Barney – Frankie Faison
- Pilcher – Paul Lazar
- Jailer – George A. Romero
- Based on – The Silence of the Lambs, a novel by Thomas Harris
- Written by – Ted Tally
- Directed by – Jonathan Demme
Thanks for reading our literary analysis and explanation of The Silence of the Lambs!
