What The Silence of the Lambs had going for it, besides novelty, was well-directed suspense and nail-biting narrative momentum. This sequel makes the brave decision to do without both, offering not a single twist or thrill in its entire, numbingly overlong 131 minutes.
Julianne Moore takes over from Jodie Foster, and is poured into a black cocktail dress for the grand finale, but chances are you'll miss it, having long since given up on this almost literally plotless and unendurably boring film. If you do rouse yourself towards the end, you'll be further rewarded by the sight of Ray Liotta eating his own brain and Moore losing one of her hands - but not, the film would have us accept, her intellectual and emotional regard for the ever more preposterous title character.
If this is high concept grand guignol for the twenty-first century, Herschell Gordon Lewis has never looked so good.
Some beautifully photographed Florentine locations.