InStyle.com, February 2001

It was a party inspired by Dante’s poetic hell. The New York Public Library was appropriately transformed for the Hannibal premiere, complete with muted red lights and cadaverous living statues set against a backdrop of crimson velvet. Blood-red roses and candlelight added just the kind of ambience that Dr. Lecter would have preferred.

“This was one of the best jobs I’ve ever had,” said a decidedly laid back yet elegant Julianne Moore as she lounged on a plush red chaise, one arm around a friend, Heineken dangling delicately from the other. “Jodie Foster set a really high standard and it was a pleasure playing Clarice.”

Off in a corner, Gabriel Byrne expounded on the principles of party fashion: “You can’t go wrong with all black, a little stubble, and a look of confusion,” he said, demonstrating said look as he put his hand to his chin, head cocked to the side. “Events like these allow you to take stuff that’s been in moth balls out of the wardrobe and parade around.”

Several celebs chose to adopt Byrne’s ideal of “beatnik chic.” A bristly Stephen Dorff hovered around tables laden with Italian delights — bite sized ravioli, chocolate cups filled with tiramisu, and crostini with a bean puree — Tuscan white, not fava.

And in an intimate enclave, the man whose character had quite calmly advised an adversary: “I’m giving serious thought to eating your wife,” dined on a more palatable meal. Sir Anthony Hopkins, ever the dapper gentleman, sipped tea and nibbled a mini baguette as he mingled with producers Dino and Martha De Laurentiis.

“This is wonderful!” proclaimed Ms. De Laurentiis as she surveyed the gathering. “I lived in New York in the seventies and I could never get into events like these. I was always outside the velvet robe.”

As people chattered around him, Sir Anthony remained a man of few words, choosing instead to savor the cuisine. When asked about the food, his response was a Hannibal-esque “Mmm,” complete with trademark diabolical smile.