Netflix’s limited series Ripley is the best and most beautiful interpretation of Patricia Highsmith’s 1955 thriller The Talented Mr. Ripley to date – and yes, that includes Anthony Minghella’s Oscar-nominated version from 1999. Highsmith’s novel follows American con man Tom Ripley on a fateful trip to Italy, where he’s been sent to track down shipbuilding scion Dickie Greenleaf and wrest him from his beachside fantasies and his skeptical paramour, Marge. Despite some grating quirks, this adaptation from Schindler’s List screenwriter and The Night Of creator Steve Zaillian carefully replicates the most iconic scenes from a cerebral story that morphs along with its protagonist – played here by the always great Andrew Scott.
The first thing you’ll notice about Ripley is that it is beautiful – and that’s saying something for a series that opens with its title character dragging a dead body down the stairs. Cinematographer Robert Elswit shoots in black-and-white in an homage to indelible Italian films released around the time of Tom’s 1961 sojourn to the Amalfi Coast. (One of them, Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita, even lends its title to Episode 4.) And the framing – oh, the framing! Zaillan skillfully works Dickie’s (Johnny Flynn) love of painting into the narrative, comparing Tom’s exploits to those of Caravaggio, and Elswit produces swoon-worthy visuals to match. The interplay of shadow and light is a consistent theme, as in Caravaggio’s paintings. Elswit even flexes a few times, explicitly modeling shots after statues and paintings featured in the series. All this, combined with the vibes of mid-20th-century Italy, is just – whew! I, a shameless aesthete, often wanted to kiss my TV screen.
The second thing you’ll notice about Ripley is that the casting is unorthodox. This is no knock on Scott or Flynn, fortysomething actors playing characters originally written as being in their mid-20s. But Scott could play a compelling toaster, so it’s not exactly hard for him to pull off 35. Zaillian nudges the script in his favor, offering a more experienced, composed Tom Ripley, one who’s introduced paying rent via medical-billing fraud and must adopt a new identity to outrun some bloody consequences. And Flynn, as Dickie, falls neatly into place, lending his character a gruff, mysterious air that suits Dickie’s hot-and-cold attitude towards Tom. The real head-scratcher here is Eliot Sumner as Freddie Miles, a threat to Tom and a loose end in his scheme who’s given a rather one-note portrayal by Sumner. (And that note is “British.”)
As with Scott’s age, the script warps to suit this change, but far less naturally. Sumner’s a poor match for a character Highsmith described as “the kind of ox who might beat up somebody he thought was a pansy,” sapping necessary tension from key scenes. Zaillian overcompensates by insinuating, rather bizarrely, that Freddie is gay. He also forgoes a wry tone and exposition that would have granted Scott more time to really play with his character, yielding a more flattened, psychopathic take on Tom. At least the way he treasures certain possessions made the leap directly from page to screen: “Nice pen” may as well be Ripley’s unofficial tagline.
Some of these discrepancies might make Highsmith fidget uncomfortably in her grave, but most other decisions Zaillian makes actually serve the story. The rest of the cast is great, especially Maurizio Lombardi as a no-nonsense police detective. Dakota Fanning plays Marge like the sympathetic, complex character she is, offering gravity that the book occasionally lacks. Along with its dramatic visuals, Ripley painstakingly uses sound to add texture to each scene. In fact, if you watch any episode’s end credits all the way through, you’ll get little audio hints at what’s to come in the next one.
Savor those clues! Despite streaming in full on Netflix, Ripley works best when watched in moderation. There are no gimmicky cliffhangers at the end of each episode to spur you on, so take some time before you start the next one. This kind of meticulous artistry deserves equally attentive viewing.
