Hannibal defied expectations and paired gorgeous aesthetics with perfect casting in a reboot that represents one of network television’s finest chapters.

Few fictional characters enjoy the kind of status that allows their portrayals to change hands every few installments. Figures like Sherlock Holmes, James Bond or Bruce Wayne are bigger than any one individual. Though Sir Anthony Hopkins was not the first man to play Dr. Hannibal Lecter, his Oscar-winning tour de force set a gold standard so seemingly untouchable that efforts to try naturally earned a dismissive eye-roll from many.

The streaming era was barely getting off the ground in 2013, but the rise of cable television had largely rendered the broadcast networks irrelevant in pursuit of excellence within the form when NBC’s take on Hannibal Lecter story was announced. By tapping Bryan Fuller, then known for creating the short-lived cult hits Wonderfalls, Dead Like Me and Pushing Daisies, the network demonstrated it was willing to take risks with an iconic franchise. By setting itself completely apart from the world that The Silence of the Lambs crafted on the big screen, Hannibal became the rare reboot to usurp its predecessor as the definitive adaptation of Thomas Harris’ popular book series.

For all its stylistic grandeur and phenomenal writing, Fuller’s crowning achievement with Hannibal lies largely with the portrayal of its title character. Mads Mikkelsen brought to life a Dr. Lecter completely unique from Hopkins. Retaining the elegance that the cannibalistic psychiatrist exudes, Mikkelsen gave a softer, more vulnerable outer shell to Hannibal’s cunning nature. Mikkelsen plays the role with a flamboyant confidence that’s intoxicating even to an audience who’s fully aware of who this character really is.

Hopkins’ Lecter was a man who clearly belonged in a cage, the kind of figure who could still inspire plenty of terror behind bars. Mikkelsen’s Lecter titillated the senses in a far more carnal sense. His gaze upon his subjects leaves nothing unsaid, the man who crafted his very essence to lure his prey while his smile lets them know he’s fully aware that they’re powerless to stop him.

The legacy of Hopkins’ iconic performance in The Silence of the Lambs can make it easy to forget that Dr. Lecter was only on screen in the film for a little over fifteen minutes. While Fuller consistently offers heartier helpings of Mikkelsen’s Lecter to the audience, he understood the importance of surrounding the cannibal with a compelling roster of costars. Unwilling to let his character exist as a mere patsy for Hannibal’s amusement, Hugh Dancy wears Will Graham’s tortured grief in every scene. The title of the series might belong to Dr. Lecter, but Dancy ensured that Graham was every bit his equal as the heart of the series.

The chemistry between Mikkelsen and Dancy exuded the kind of flirtatious tension that drives every soap opera with the traditional cat-and-mouse antics present in the horror-oriented source material. Neither Graham nor Lecter operate within the confines of the traditional notions of protagonist and antagonist, each daring the viewer to delight in the temptations of the colorful moral grey.

The long-form nature of television also gave Hannibal the chance to present a full portrait of Jack Crawford, one of the few mainstay characters of Harris’ books. Laurence Fishburne played the head of the FBI’s Behavior Sciences Unit with an open sense of curiosity that served as an excellent conduit for the viewer. Fuller regular Caroline Dhavernas rounded out the core cast as Alana Bloom, bringing a level-headed presence to a group constantly falling deeper into the rabbit hole.

Paternity plays a multifaceted role in the series. Jack and Hannibal constantly play a subtle game of tug-of-war for custody over Will’s well-being, both with dubious selfish intentions. Similarly, Will and Hannibal spend much of the series pitting their affections for Abigail Hobbs (Kacey Rohl) against each other, layers of the victim/savior relationship constantly battling for attention.

Part of what made Hannibal such a delight was how attuned the sets and wardrobes were to the aesthetics of the social media age while largely leaving technology out of the equation entirely. Lecter’s office was a palace of gothic wonder, the kind of taste that any interior decorator could charge a hefty premium to achieve. One of TV’s most impeccable dressers, Lecter’s perfectly tailored suits mesmerized the eyes every time the camera fixated on Mikkelsen. The intricacies of the crime scenes displayed such eloquence in their elaborate horror, uncomfortable yet so wonderful to gaze at. The audience could put the series on mute and simply listen to the story told by the color schemes present on the screen.

Then there was the food. Hannibal’s elaborate dinner presentations would be the envy of any foodie on Instagram, putting to shame anyone who ever dared to post a picture of their own meal, destined to pale by comparison. Fuller possessed a keen sense of the power Dr. Lecter could wield over the audience through his mouth-watering creations, taste buds in perpetual conflict as the beauty clashed with the obvious reality of what was being served.

As both a book and a film series, Lecter’s saga has enjoyed its ups and downs. Fuller employed the long-form nature of television to revisit some of the series’ low points, particularly the book that shares its same name. Fuller adapted much of the novel in seasons 2 and 3, allowing for an extended look at the Verger family, particularly Margot (Katharine Isabelle) who was left out of the film adaptation. The series Hannibal reinvented much of the source material’s timeline, giving Fuller more rein to explore the work while still plotting his own course.

Hannibal represents a crowning triumph for network television, quite possibly its best drama to come out of the 21st century. Fuller achieved the aesthetics of a peak-TV drama without fully shunning the conventions of the types of procedurals that dominate much of NBC’s other programming. Episodes came with resolutions, killers captured, alongside broader serialized storytelling. The 13-episode seasons contain practically no filler, each episode stuffed to the brim with character development. This model was followed closely by Lucifer, which followed as a network drama starring a charming, impeccably dressed demon.

NBC canceled Hannibal after three seasons, but rumors of its return have persisted ever since, in large part due to continued enthusiasm from the cast and the show’s fervent fan base. The possibility that the series could acquire the rights to The Silence of the Lambs presents an added sense of purpose absent from many other television revivals. The lambs haven’t stopped screaming.

Hannibal is a singular reboot in its achievements. Sir Anthony Hopkins cemented Hannibal Lecter as one of the greatest villains in the history of film. Mads Mikkelsen ensured that Lecter would not be solely remembered by one portrayal. Fuller crafted a rich world full of deeply complicated characters who thrived on their unhealthy need for each other. What could have been dismissed as a cash-grab instead became one of broadcast television’s best works of all time.