When I first heard that Andrew Scott would be Netflix’ Tom Ripley, there was no doubt in my mind that he would be brilliant as the charming conman turned killer. I was less convinced that the story would hold my attention for a full eight episodes.
My expectations were met on both counts. Scott is the quintessential conman, cruel and manipulative with all the class and style of an early James Bond. He blends into the black-and-white Amalfi coast setting so effortlessly it is easy to forget you are not really watching a show from the 1960s.
Unfortunately, the dominant presence of Tom and the weight of the Italian period frame leave very little room for anything else.
The main advantage of a series over a feature film is that you have time to let the audience see more of its characters lives, show who they are rather than just tell. “Ripley” uses its extra time to show us more of 1960s Italy… beautiful seaside towns, trains (so many trains), busses and high class hotels. Oh, and expensive ashtrays, because everyone always smokes. This creates a stunningly beautiful atmosphere, yet adds nothing to plot or character development.
The only character who shows any real personality aside from Tom is inspector Ravini - a decent counterpart as the smart police detective who almost solves the case.
But for the most part, Ripley remains a one-hander. For fans who will happily watch Andrew Scott read the shipping forecast, this is as good as it gets. As an Italian tourist board announcement, it’s not bad either (though judging by the latest news, neither Venice nor Rome are currently interested in attracting more Americans).
For the rest of us, much like Richard Greenleaf, “Ripley” will sink without much of a splash, leaving a faint memory of the dark beauty of the Mediterranean.
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