THE TALENTED MR RIPLEY | FESTIVAL THEATRE, EDINBURGH | UK TOUR
★★★
“Brooding production lacks urgency… but remains a fascinating study”
In the programme for The Talented Mr Ripley, it’s noted that author and Ripley creator Patricia Highsmith’s skill was ‘to make her readers’ sympathies lie with the bad guy’. That Tom Ripley is a baddie isn’t in doubt, he is a serial killer after all, and so we come to the first of a number of problems with this new, modern production from The Faction, Ed McVey’s anti-hero lacks the charisma to elicit that empathy – and it’s not all the actor’s fault.
In this overly long adaptation, written and directed by Mark Leipacher, McVey is scarcely off stage throughout an hour long first act and 80 minute second act. That’s a heavy learn, with much exposition to impart as the story is told on a raised, white island stage with a hole in the middle. It sits like a giant square Polo Mint in the middle of stark, black-box staging with only rows of strip lighting and the odd piece of scenery to create a sense of place – a freezer, a window, a door, an incongruously elaborate piece of art.
It’s on that square Polo that Ripley’s adventures unfold, while the ensemble form a nebulous chorus in the shadows, offering snapshots into the psychotic nature of his inner thoughts while doubling as scene shifters, a device that quickly becomes tiresome yet also boasts flashes of brilliance – they are used to excellent effect as the tale reaches Venice.
As for the story, Ripley, a nobody who wants to be a somebody, finds himself presented with a conman’s dream when he is asked to embark on an all expenses paid trip to Italy to bring home Dickie Greenleaf, wayward son of a wealthy businessman. Quickly finding his head turned by the sun-drenched glamour of 1950s Italy and the lifestyle Dickie leads, Ripley’s obsession with his new friend grows and as the lines between truth and deception blur, lies, identity theft, and murder follow.
For a much loved psychological thriller, Leipacher’s direction eschews any real sense of urgency or suspense. Confined to the square Polo for the most part, the portrayals of Ripley and Greenleaf (a distant Bruce Herbelin-Earle), are more languid than louche though always watchable.
Despite the wordy nature of the piece, McVey does manage to hold the attention as Ripley and Greenleaf’s conflicting chemistries ebb and flow; not quite homoerotic (despite the propensity of both to remove their shirts at any given the opportunity), yet more than a bromance. It all makes for a brooding, strangely hypnotic piece that could, and should be so much more.
Strong support comes from Maisie Smith who, as Marge, who quickly wins sympathy with a warm, engaging performance. Christopher Bianchi too puts in an excellent shift doubling as Robert Greenleaf and police inspector Roverini.
Holly Pigott’s austere set, a concept perhaps more financially than creatively driven, owes much for the impact it does have to Zeynep Kepekli’s stylish lighting, but never captures the luxurious lifestyle and glamorous worlds the protagonists inhabit.
On tour ahead of a West End run, it’ll be interesting to see how this production evolves prior to London.
Tour dates and tickets here.
