I think he was taunting her with that remark, actually. The one continuity error that really bugged me was that Starling says Lecter killed Benjamin Raspail to improve the sound of the orchestra. Er . . . Lambs makes clear that Lecter didn’t kill Raspail; he “tucked him away, just as [he] found him after he’d missed three appointments.” Jame Gumb killed Raspail.
Montfort, I disagree with you that Lambs violated what was established in Manhunter (or even in the novel), and I’d love to discuss it more. Would you be interested in starting a thread?
As for me, I was completely indifferent to the movie, and I thought the book was terrible. When reading it, I couldn’t tell if Harris really believed in and was invested in what he was writing, or was looking for a way to purge himself of these characters. The book was full of contemptible characters who grew more contemptible on every single page, with the exception of Jack Crawford who, sensing the atrocious ending, allows himself to die of a heart attack.
The novel, and the movie moreso, suffers from a serious structural deficit. Part of the thematic strength of Lambs was the danger to Starling – body and soul – especially after Lecter escapes. Not until he makes his call to her at the end do you realize the scope of the relationship between them.
In Hannibal, Lecter and Starling are separated for the bulk of the story. He is not confined to a cell, so we need a character with whom we can place ourselves and who will be in that kind of danger. So Hannibal gives us Pazzi. Except he’s a scumbag. He is willing to sell out his police career to eliver Lecter to verger for the reward money. He gets a pickpocket killed trying to obtain a print. He has no redeeming qualities whatsoever, so in that little battle, I guess we’re supposed to root for Lecter. But we aren’t supposed to root for Lecter, dammit! Harris doesn’t even have the courage to make him a real, genuine antihero, except to the extent that he “prefers to eat the rude.” He simply becomes increasingly sadistic and unlikeable when we’re allowed to watch him at work outside the confines of his cell.
Starling has to remain the moral center of the story, and when she’s separated from Lecter, she can’t be. We want Lecter to escape Verger not because Lecter is the good guy, but because we’re told Verger is the bad guy (and the movie, frankly, really soft-pedals his pedophilia). Krendler is actually much as he’s drawn in the book, but he’s pretty pedestrian, as villains go. He messes with Starling’s career–the horror! Even Barney the orderly is willing to do business with Verger and is selling off Lecter’s stuff–and the movie even removes the context in which that happens, because it removed the character of Mason’s sister.
All in all, this project was doomed to be mediocre, and it is. There are some handsome enough set pieces, and the acting is good, but the movie itself is simply run-of-the-mill even on its own terms.