Warning: There are potential spoilers ahead (thanks MacTingz)
Until last Saturday night I hadn’t seen The Silence of the Lambs in at least a decade. My uncle, who foolishly took me to countless films as a child, especially R-rated films unsuitable for adolescents, introduced me to Jonathan Demme’s adaptation of Thomas Harris’ novel, bringing me to the local multiplex, buying me popcorn, and establishing my familiarity with transsexuals and serial killers. I was probably nine or ten years old. Luckily my parents didn’t care and even encouraged my viewing of subversive films and books – they were hippies.