The film itself represents movie craftsmanship -- elegant, dark, alluring, frightening, mesmerizing -- at its best.

Audiences will be excused for any feelings of déjà vu the new film might inspire. That won't prevent them from watching it in rapt, anxious silence, however, as the gruesome crimes, twisted psychology and deterministic dread that lie at the heart of Harris' work are laid out with care and skill.

This darkly seductive, flawlessly acted piece is worlds removed from most horror films. Here monsters have their grandeur, heroes their gravity. And when they collide, a dance of death ensues between two souls doomed to understand each other.

To my surprise, Ratner does a sure, stylish job, appreciating the droll humor of Lecter's predicament, creating a depraved new villain in the Tooth Fairy (Ralph Fiennes), and using the quiet, intense skills of Norton to create a character whose old fears feed into his new ones. There is also humor, of the uneasy he-can't-get-away-with-this variety, in the character of a nosy scandal-sheet reporter (Philip Seymour Hoffman).

Is Red Dragon a better film than "Manhunter?" I don’t know. I think it stands on its own, but I wonder how much people who are intimately familiar with "Manhunter" will be shocked by it, although the ending is altogether different and much more realized, I think.

Red Dragon is certainly an improvement on “Hannibal.” It has something the Ridley Scott movie didn’t -- a good story -- and it will no doubt keep the franchise rolling in dough.

Thankfully, Emily Watson comes to his rescue with her spot-on portrayal of the killer's blind girlfriend; her rich performance works wonders in the absence of Jodie Foster. Now, if only they could remake Hannibal before they assemble that boxed set.

It's chilling what Fiennes can do with so very little; he looks like a wounded puppy half the time and sounds like one to boot.

The most refreshing aspect of Red Dragon is its reliance on old-fashioned acting instead of computer-aided gizmos. Hopkins overdoes his role at times -- his vocal tones are almost campy -- but his piercing eyes are as menacing as ever, and Ralph Fiennes is scarily good as his fellow lunatic.

It's frightening enough, to be sure, but too often it feels like a well-executed but rote exercise.

Ratner is canny enough to close the movie with a devilish tease that will send the Lambs faithful out with a delirious smile. What Red Dragon won't do is haunt your nightmares. Who could have guessed Hannibal Lecter would ever become such a crack-up?

As Hopkins's Lecter is concerned, it's official: He's Freddy Krueger.

Red Dragon is very much a product, and a superior one, of our times. So is Anthony Hopkins' top-notch fiend, the bad doctor.

I quibble over a film that has none of the artistic pretensions of "The Silence of the Lambs." This is more of a greatest-hits Hannibal movie, with a thunderingly portentous soundtrack, lots of mugging and autopsy detail, and a bang-up double ending.