Sixteen is a perfect age to watch a movie—poised between wide-eyed wonder and something like maturity. That’s how old I was when I first saw The Talented Mr. Ripley, Anthony Minghella’s stunning, beautifully grim 1999 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s sharp 1955 novel. I’d been a movie lover for years by then, but something about its elegant menace, its beauty tinged with violence, gripped me like nothing had before. It’s far from a feel-good film—this is a story of queer longing and loneliness that spirals into murder. Yet even now, watching it (which I do, perhaps too often), I still feel that raw thrill of art opening up a young mind.
Minghella, who passed away in 2008, was a master of style, creating fully believable visions of the past. His skill shines brightest in Ripley, which takes viewers on a grand tour of mid-20th-century Italy—its sun-drenched coastal ease and its tense, gray cobblestone streets. Tom Ripley, a low-born con artist sent to Italy to bring home a wayward shipping heir, is in awe of the country, just as we are. So much so that we almost find ourselves uneasily rooting for Tom as his schemes grow darker.
Gabriel Yared’s score—by turns ominous and playful, with its seductive clarinet and foreboding glockenspiel—wraps around us as Tom sinks deeper into his lies, dragging unsuspecting heirs and dilettantes down with him. It’s top-tier suspense, but the film also hums with a deeper, sadder undercurrent. Beneath its polished surface lies a stark, surprisingly empathetic look at living with hidden desire, and reaching for a golden world that would likely reject your true self.
It’s no surprise that I, having just come out in the summer of 1999, found something deeply resonant in this film. But it wasn’t just that. It was the electric energy of Minghella’s flawless direction, working with a cast of soon-to-be huge stars—who, I’d argue, have never been better.
Few other young, straight male actors in 1990s Hollywood would have had the confidence to play this ambiguous queer character with the precision and fearlessness Matt Damon brought to the role. Jude Law is a sun-god beamed in from Mount Olympus, perfectly hateful and magnetic as Dickie Greenleaf. Philip Seymour Hoffman is a hilariously vile presence as the boorish Freddie Miles. Gwyneth Paltrow is both aristocratic and pitiable as Dickie’s fiancée Marge, whose sophistication and warmth are no match for Tom’s cruelty. And then there’s the magnificent Cate Blanchett, stealing every scene as Meredith Logue, a socially awkward textiles heiress who unwittingly aids Tom’s deceptions, thrilled by the intrigue while carelessly risking her own heart.
It was all so thrilling to see at 16, when I was just starting to figure out what I loved about actors and movies. And maybe when Hollywood was reimagining itself, too. The Talented Mr. Ripley might have ended up on the wrong side of that cultural shift; it’s the kind of Hollywood film we rarely see now—smart, artistic, and modestly budgeted despite its period setting and location shoots. That kind of movie has mostly disappeared since Ripley came out. But at the time, it felt like a bridge to the future—at least to me.
If the film is a relic of a lost era, what a relic it is. And how powerfully it has stayed with me, returning again and again as I’ve grown up. When I rewatch it, I’m not looking for comfort in Tom Ripley—I’m not even craving—A trip to Italy—though not any more than usual, I suppose. What I’m really after, and what I find myself remembering, is that thrill of realizing films like Ripley could even exist, and that I was finally ready to watch and appreciate them.
That’s why The Talented Mr. Ripley has become, in its chilling and melancholy way, a feel-good movie for me—and surely for many others too. It represents Hollywood at its most powerful: captivating, moving, and transporting. However idealistic it may sound, I still hope that some bold new director of today might look back at Minghella’s film, now twenty-five years old, and find inspiration in it. In its careful craftsmanship, its skillful use of movie-star charisma, its quiet confidence that literary stories can also be deeply physical and sensual experiences. If we can’t all go to Europe to find ourselves, we can at least watch Ripley and let ourselves dream in the dark.
The Talented Mr. Ripley is available in the US on Paramount+ and the Criterion Channel, on Amazon Prime and Paramount+ in the UK, and on Stan in Australia.
Frequently Asked Questions
Of course Here is a list of FAQs about why The Talented Mr Ripley is a visceral sensual wonder and a feelgood movie
General Beginner Questions
Q Wait isnt The Talented Mr Ripley a thriller about a murderer How is that a feelgood movie
A For many the feelgood element isnt about the plots morality but the immersive wishfulfillment fantasy of escaping into a world of beauty style and cunning intelligence
Q What do you mean by visceral sensual wonders
A It refers to how the movie appeals directly to your senses You can almost feel the Italian sun hear the jazz and taste the glamour creating a powerful emotional and physical experience
Q Whats the basic appeal of the movie if Ive never seen it
A Its a masterclass in atmosphere It transports you to 1950s Italy with stunning visuals a hypnotic soundtrack and incredible costumes all wrapped in a tense and captivating story
Q Is the movie scary or overly violent
A Its a psychological thriller so its tense and has moments of violence but its not a horror movie The suspense comes from the characters and their choices not from gore or jump scares
Deeper Advanced Questions
Q How does the film use aesthetics to create its feelgood quality
A The luxurious settings Jude Laws charismatic performance and the carefree lifestyle depicted act as a form of cinematic escapism Youre enjoying the fantasy of that world even as the dark plot unfolds
Q Why do I feel complicit or even root for Tom Ripley a clearly immoral character
A The film is shot from his perspective We experience his desires his insecurities and his awe of Dickies world This creates a strange empathy making his desperate actions feel relatable on a human level
Q The term visceral often implies grit How does a glamorous film achieve that
A The visceral reaction comes from the intense emotions the sting of rejection the panic of being caught in a lie the thrill of getting away with something and the crushing weight of envy The beauty contrasts with these raw feelings
