Ripley: When Queercoding Actually Works
By Anne Gregg
Based on the 1955 novel The Talented Mr. Ripley, Ripley follows Tom Ripley (Andrew Scott), a petty criminal who is mistaken by Herbert Greenleaf (Kenneth Lonergan), a wealthy shipbuilder, as a friend of his son, Dickie (Johnny Flynn). Herbert pays for Tom to travel to Atrani, Italy and convince Dickie to come back home to New York. Tom goes to Italy and is immediately taken with Dickie, and jealous of Marge (Dakota Fanning), Dickie’s girlfriend. At first, it appears like a mild infatuation, Dickie is rich and kind to Tom. Tom then begins to copy Dickie’s mannerisms. When Dickie is finally fed up with Tom’s behavior Dickie tells him that he needs to leave. Angered, Tom kills Dickie and assumes his identity. He is found out by Dickie’s friend Freddie (Eliot Sumner), who Tom also kills to cover his tracks. The police find Freddie’s body and Inspector Ravini (Maurizio Lombardi) takes on the case, believing that Dickie (or rather Tom acting as Dickie) is responsible for Freddie’s death.
Ripley inverts the noir genre. Instead of following the hardboiled detective common in noir, we follow Tom Ripley, a petty criminal turned murderer. Thrillers, especially the films that Ripley’s black and white aesthetic takes inspiration from, set their hero as the tough, manly, good guy. The villain is defined as the opposite: opulent, intellectual-elite, feminine. The protagonist, the moral heart of the noir genre represents the everyman ideal. And yet, Tom is the protagonist of Ripley. Unlike many of the culprits the hard-boiled detectives investigate, he escapes with most of his secrets and his true identity hidden behind a stack of forged passports. Tom spends the latter half of the show pretending to be the wealthy, decadent, indulgent villain that Inspector Ravini investigates. Tom doesn’t get caught, because he is much smarter than the carless, decadent villain he is pretending to be. He is not Dickie Greenleaf. The real Dickie was naive, and did not pay attention to details.
Ripley is a silent show. Many scenes are shot with little to no dialogue; they are each artfully constructed and framed. Every cut to a new shot feels intentional, everytime the camera lingers we pay attention. But the use of close up shots is where Tom’s keen eye comes through. Every little detail from a letter, a signature, a piece of art, is carefully logged and noticed by Tom and the camera. Tom is able to help Marge edit her book. He takes up Dickie’s hobby of painting and is much better than Dickie ever was. Tom is a practiced perfectionist. He tricks Inspector Ravini because he pays attention to typewriter’s quirks, he understands how lighting can change his face, he tracks his lies. The bourgeoisie facade implies carelessness. And Tom is anything but. Tom’s obsessive behavior is revealed through his acute attention to detail. Most of Tom’s character, including his queerness, has to be inferred by subtext. He lies easily, slipping in and out of identities.
Tom’s obsession with Dickie is never explained, instead it is revealed in the little details. His obsession with Dickie is obvious, he puts on his clothes, he talks as him, attempting to copy his voice and mannerisms. While this could suggest a premeditated plan to kill Dickie, the moment of the murder feels angry, unintentional, and extreme. It is obvious that Tom is queer but Dickie’s sexuality is much harder to pinpoint. On the surface, he seems straight; he has a girlfriend. But his best friend Freddie has a male partner and Dickie immediately invites Tom to live with him. Marge remarks after Dickie goes missing — — that he felt really guilty about Tom and she couldn’t figure out why. There is a possibility that Dickie had feelings for Tom too, but to figure that out the audience has to read past Dickie’s front and Tom’s lies.
While queercoding has rightfully fallen out of fashion, it works in Ripley because of its noir elements and ambiguous main character. On the surface Ripley, is an artsy thriller with beautiful shots and a twisting cat-and-mouse chase. But those shots and the story serve a deeper narrative where the viewer must act as the detective and dig through everything that is left unsaid.
Tom hides everything including his queerness. He acts out of shame and obsession. Ripley is about many things: stolen identities, class, murder, but it is also a portrait of love, shame, and internalized homophobia. It is about the constant paranoia over how you are perceived. It’s about living a double-life. And most importantly it’s about quiet, intimate, obsession.
About the Author
Anne Gregg is a poet and writer from Northwest Indiana. She is an English Writing major at DePauw University and is the editor-in-chief of her campus’s literary magazine, A Midwestern Review. She is a Media Fellow at her university and loves dissecting how LGBTQ+ people are portrayed in film and tv.
