Movie  1999
The Talented Mr. Ripley      Back      Home
[the inspector has asked a question]
Peter: [translating] He wants to know if you're a homosexual.
Tom Ripley: No!
Peter: [translating] No.
Peter: I saw you kissing Meredith.
Tom Ripley: More like kissing off.

Tom Ripley: What are you trying to say?
Freddie Miles: I think I'm saying it.
Herbert Greenleaf: What a waste of lives and opportunities.
[abruptly turning his attention to a street musician]
Herbert Greenleaf: I'd pay that fellow a hundred dollars right now to shut up.
Tom Ripley: I could live Dickie's life for him.
Freddie Miles: God, don't you want to fuck every woman you see at least once?
Marge Sherwood: Why do I think there's never been a Ripley rainy day?
Tom Ripley: What?
Marge Sherwood: [leans closer] I know it was you.
Tom Ripley: [imitating Dickie's father] "To me, jazz is noise. Insolent noise."
Dickie Greenleaf: Wow! Cut it out! It's so spooky, my hair's on end!
Tom Ripley: You're the brother I never had. I'm the brother you never had. I would do anything for you, Dickie.
Freddie Miles: In fact the only thing which looks like Dickie is you.
Tom Ripley: I really feel happy. As if I had been granted a new lease in life.
Dickie Greenleaf: You're so white! Have you ever seen a guy so white, Marge? Grey, actually.
Tom Ripley: It's just an undercoat.
Dickie Greenleaf: Say again?
Tom Ripley: You know a primer.
Dickie Greenleaf: That's funny. Margie likes that 'cause she's so white too.
Marge Sherwood: Yes, I do and you're not funny.
Tom Ripley: [imitating Dickie's father] "To me, jazz is noise. Insolent noise."
Dickie Greenleaf: Wow! Cut it out! It's so spooky, you're making the hairs on my neck stand up!
Dickie Greenleaf: Now you'll find out why Ms. Sherwood shows up for breakfast, Tom. It's not love, it's my coffee machine.
Tom Ripley: And that's the irony, Marge. I loved you. You may was well know it, Marge: I loved you. I don't know... maybe it's grotesque of me to say this now, so just write it on a piece of paper or something and put it in your purse for a rainy day. 'Tom loves me.' 'Tom loves me.'
Tom Ripley: If I could just go back... if I could rub everything out... starting with myself.
Tom Ripley: Don't you just take the past, and put it in a room in the basement, and lock the door and never go in there? That's what I do.
Peter: God, yes. Though in my case, it's probably a whole building.
Dickie Greenleaf: You know, without the glasses you're not even ugly.
Freddie Miles: Oh God! Don't you want to fuck every woman you see just once?
Dickie Greenleaf: Only once?
Freddie Miles: Absolutely once. Ciao.
Dickie Greenleaf: Tom Ripley. Freddie Miles.
Freddie Miles: I mean, hey, if I'm late what would her husband say.
Dickie Greenleaf: You look gorgeous.
Freddie Miles: As always.
Dickie Greenleaf: We're all only children. What does that mean?
Tom Ripley: It means we've never shared a bath. I'm cold, can I get in?
Dickie Greenleaf: No.
Tom Ripley: I didn't mean with you in it.
Dickie Greenleaf: Okay, get in. I'm like a prune anyway.
Marge Sherwood: Tom was telling me about his journey over. Made me laugh so hard I almost got a nosebleed.
Dickie Greenleaf: Is that good?
Marge Sherwood: Shut up.
Dickie Greenleaf: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm despicable. But I love you. Do you love me?
Herbert Greenleaf: You know, people always say that you can't choose your parents, but you can't choose your children...
Marge Sherwood: [referring to Tom] I like him.
Dickie Greenleaf: Marge, you like everybody.
Tom Ripley: First of all I know there's something. That evening when we played chess for instance it was obvious.
Dickie Greenleaf: What evening?
Tom Ripley: Oh sure, no, no, it's too dangerous for you to take on. Oh, no, no, we're brothers. Hey. And then you do this sordid thing with Marge. Fucking her on the boat so we all have to listen. Which was excruciating! And you follow your cock around and now you're getting married! I'm bewildered, forgive me. You're lying to Marge and then you're getting married to her. You're knocking up Silvana. You're ruining everybody. You wanna play the sax, you wanna play the drums. What is it, Dickie? What do you actually want?
Dickie Greenleaf: Who are you? Huh? Some third class loser? Who are you? Who are you to say anything to me? Who are you to tell me anything? Actually I really, really don't want to be on this boat with you. I can't move without you moving. Gives me the creeps. You give me the creeps!
Marge Sherwood: You killed Dickie! I know it was YOU!
Dickie Greenleaf: I could fuck this ice box, I love it so much.
Tom Ripley: That ring is superb.
Marge Sherwood: Oh, Tom, I love you! See?
Dickie Greenleaf: I had to promise, capital p, to never take it off. Otherwise I'd give it to you.
Marge Sherwood: Isn't it great? I found it in Naples. I had to bargain for it for about two weeks!
Dickie Greenleaf: Uh, I hope it wasn't cheap, Marge?
Marge Sherwood: Oh, it was!
Peter: Officially, there are no Italian homosexuals. It makes Michelangelo and Leonardo very inconvenient.
Freddie Miles: Tommy. How's the peeping? Tommy, how's the peeping? Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. Tommy.
Tom Ripley: Well, whatever you do, however terrible, however hurtful, it all makes sense, doesn't it, in your head. You never meet anybody that thinks they're a bad person.
Peter: Tom is crushing me.
Tom Ripley: No matter what you do, no matter how awful, no-one ever thinks that they're a bad person.
Marge Sherwood: Why is it when men play they always play at killing each other?
Dickie Greenleaf: Everybody should have one talent, what's yours?
Tom Ripley: Telling lies, forging signatures and impersonating almost anybody.
[last lines]
Peter: Good things about Mr. Ripley? Could take some time. Tom is talented. Tom is tender... Tom is beautiful... Tom is a mystery. Tom is not a nobody. Tom has secrets he doesn't want to tell me, and I wish he would. Tom has nightmares. That's not a good thing. Tom has someone to love him. That is a good thing. Tom is crushing me. Tom is crushing me... Tom, you're crushing me!
Dickie Greenleaf: You can be a leech!
Tom Ripley: I always thought it'd be better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody.
Marge Sherwood: I don't believe a single word you've said.
Tom Ripley: You're shivering, Marge. Look at you, Marge. Can I hold you? Will you let me hold you?
Dickie Greenleaf: How could it take an hour to find an ambulance?
Marge Sherwood: She was already dead, darling.
Dickie Greenleaf: I don't know why people say this country is civilised. It isn't. It's fucking primitive!
Marge Sherwood: Dick? Dickie? I know you can hear me. What am I doing, chasing you around...? I was going to say I would count to three and if you didn't open the door, but I won't count any more. On you. I won't count on you any more. Whatever it is, whatever you've done or haven't done, you've broken my heart. That's one thing I know you're guilty of, and I don't know why, I don't know why, I just don't know why...
Dickie Greenleaf: "See Venice and die," is what they say? Or is it Rome?
Marge Sherwood: The thing with Dickie... it's like the sun shines on you, and it's glorious. And then he forgets you and it's very, very cold.
Tom Ripley: So I'm learning.
Marge Sherwood: When you have his attention, you feel like you're the only person in the world, that's why everybody loves him so much.
Tom Ripley: Nothing is more naked than your handwriting. See how nothing's quite touching the line? That's vanity.
Dickie Greenleaf: Well, we certainly know that that's true.
Meredith: Dickie?
Tom Ripley: Hello Meredith!
Meredith: Oh my God! I hardly even recognized you.
Tom Ripley: Well, you spotted me so you get the reward.
Amazon.com
"I feel like I've been handed a new life," says Tom Ripley at a crucial turning point of this well-cast, stylishly crafted psychological thriller. And indeed he has, because the devious, impoverished Ripley (played with subtle depth by Matt Damon) has just traded his own identity for that of Dickie Greenleaf (Jude Law), the playboy heir to a shipping fortune who has become Ripley's model for a life worth living. Having been sent by Dickie's father to retrieve the errant son from Italy, Ripley has smoothly ingratiated himself with Dickey and his lovely, unsuspecting fiancée, Marge (Gwyneth Paltrow). In due course, the sheer evil of Ripley's amoral scheme will be revealed.

Superbly adapted from the acclaimed novel by Patricia Highsmith (also the basis of the acclaimed French version, Purple Noon), The Talented Mr. Ripley is writer-director Anthony Minghella's impressive follow-up to his Oscar-winning triumph The English Patient. Re-creating late-1950s Italy in exacting detail, the film captures the sensuousness of la dolce vita while suspensefully developing the fracturing of Ripley's mind as his crimes grow increasingly desperate. And where Hitchcock was necessarily discreet with the homosexual subtext of Highsmith's Strangers on a Train, Minghella brings it out of the closet, increasing the dramatic tension and complexity of Ripley's psychological breakdown. Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Cate Blanchett are excellent in pivotal supporting roles, and the film's final image is utterly effective: Ripley's talents have gone too far, and this study of class distinction, obsession, and deadly desire reaches a disturbing yet richly appropriate conclusion. --Jeff Shannon