First-rate performances and skillful direction in 'Ripley'

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By Glenn Lovell
San Jose Mercury News
Published: Wednesday, December 22, 1999


"THE Talented Mr. Ripley,'' starring Matt Damon as a murderous social
climber, is ripping entertainment -- the kind of sophisticated, old-
fashioned thriller Hollywood doesn't get around to much anymore.

Though it has its share of sinister twists, ``Ripley'' -- set in Italy
in the late '50s -- is for those who have had their fill of gruesome
police procedurals, such as ``Seven'' and ``The Bone Collector.''

Instead of cat-and-mouse sadism, this luscious, spare-no-expense
adaptation of Patricia Highsmith's first Tom Ripley novel favors the
subtle social slight -- the smile that skewers, the sardonic gibe that
cuts to the quick and leaves the victim squirming like a worm on a hook.

Not surprisingly, England's Anthony Minghella was in the director's
chair. Minghella's last feature was the Oscar-winning ``The English
Patient,'' which, depending on your mind-set, was either the most
sumptuous romance of all time or the most stupid and overbearing. (I'm
of the latter mind.)

``Ripley'' finds Minghella in a more skeptical mood, one befitting the
spare style of the Ripley books, where the motive for murder most foul
is paralyzing envy -- of expensive things, well-connected friends,
social standing.

Tom Ripley (Damon) is a young man who wants desperately to belong, to
be noticed, to fit in. His dictum: ``It's better to be a fake somebody
than a real nobody.'' Lacking much in the way of a personality or a
past, the chameleon-like Ripley takes on the style and manner of
whomever he's near. It helps that he's a master impressionist and
forger, as well as a pathological liar.

Ripley's skills come into play when, in the opening scene, he's
mistaken for a Princeton grad by an industrialist (James Rebhorn) who
says his son Dickie -- also a Princeton man -- is somewhere in Italy
squandering his allowance. The father takes an immediate shine to
Ripley and pays him $1,000 to travel to Italy to bring Dickie home.

Armed with the little he can find out about his pretend-classmate,
Ripley soon insinuates himself on Dickie (Jude Law) and his girlfriend,
Marge (Gwyneth Paltrow). Dickie quickly passes from confused to
flattered, and invites Ripley into his circle of expatriate friends,
who live for club-hopping and vegging out on the beach.

All goes swimmingly until Dickie's old chum Freddie (Philip Seymour
Hoffman) arrives on the scene and takes an instant dislike to Ripley,
whom he pegs as a leech and a phony. It isn't long before Dickie, who
has the attention span of a gnat, seconds this assessment and asks
Ripley to leave.

Ripley doesn't take this well. Now the spurned lover, he surprises
himself by lashing out at Dickie during a motorboat ride.

And once the blood begins to flow, there's no turning back. In Naples,
Ripley the nerdy suck-up takes the next step: He becomes Dickie,
spending his money, wearing his clothes and jewelry, playing the
rakish bon vivant to the hilt.

How long can Ripley get away with this outrageous masquerade,
especially with Marge and Freddie suspicious of never being in on the
latest Dickie sighting? Complicating matters further is a socialite
named Meredith (Cate Blanchett), who's attracted to the new Dickie.

Ordinarily, such a ruse would be good for a couple of days, max.

Here, it's sustained for a good chunk of the movie because 1) the
Italian police are such dullards, and 2) Dickie's rich friends are so
self-involved they haven't time for skepticism.

The latter irony is at the dark heart of this thriller-cum-social
satire. Ripley the cipher longs to infiltrate a social circle that's
more obvious and transparent than he is. This is his tragedy, spelled
out in an ending worthy of the Tchaikovsky opera (``Eugene Onegin'')
viewed during the Naples sojourn.

Ordinarily, we ask little of the standard Hollywood murder mystery.
Was it suspenseful? Did it add up in the end? That's about it.

That we can analyze and savor this one on so many levels is testament
to Minghella's mastery of the material. He has been abetted by a
first-rate cast and production crew. Damon is chillingly good in a
role that demands little depth. Law is better as the strikingly
handsome user Dickie, whose powers of seduction are his undoing.
Hoffman follows his ``Flawless'' drag queen with a smarmy playboy who
oozes contempt for life in general.

Like ``The English Patient,'' ``Ripley'' appeals as much to the eye
and ear as the intellect. We have cinematographer John Seale and
composer Gabriel Yared to thank for this. Yared, in particularly, is
to be congratulated. His score is the perfect complement to Ripley's
scheming: It teases with playful jazz themes reminiscent of Henry
Mancini's best movie work.

Psychological thrillers don't come any smarter than ``The Talented
Mr. Ripley.'' The late Highsmith, whose ``Strangers on a Train'' was
adapted as a more coy homoerotic thriller by Hitchcock, would be
impressed by the pains taken to feel her character's pain.