JADAR

★★★★☆

Most people will have come across The Talented Mr. Ripley at some point in their life, whether it be through Patricia Highsmith’s 1955 novel and its four successors, one of the numerous film adaptations from 1960-2002, or the Andrew Scott series. Unsurprisingly, the 1999 Matt Damon and Jude Law movie remains the stand-out in a sea of Ripley re-tellings, but has a new competitor washed ashore with Mark Leipacher’s stage adaptation?

While I had only seen clips from the movie to start with, I soon saw why there was such a fascination with this dark thriller, inviting audiences into a world of deceit and obsession.

The story follows compulsive liar Tom Ripley (Ed McVey), struggling to make ends meet with his dodgy account handling and forgery schemes. He’s approached by the wealthy and trusting Herbert (Christopher Bianchi) to travel to Italy to retrieve his rebellious son, Dickie Greenleaf (Bruce Herbelin-Earle), disapproving of his hiatus with Marge Sherwood (Maisie Smith). Upon arriving, he’s enraptured by Dickie’s glamourous bohemian lifestyle and charming personality, slowly becoming obsessed, grasping for control, attention and affection before culminating into a brutal murder and a calculated cover-up.

Ed McVey is fascinatingly frantic, constantly oscillating from the needy, self-loathing nerd and the conniving killer willing to do anything to keep his act alive. It’s an interesting take on the character, balancing Sheldon Cooper levels of socially awkward dorkiness with the creepiness and dark monologues of Patrick Bateman, dreaming of murderous scenarios, meticulously forging and crafting stories while slowly losing his mind. His impersonations are spine-tingling, synching with Herbelin-Earle in one chilling moment and easily fluctuating between accents and timbre while dressed in Dickie’s signature red unbuttoned shirt.

Herbelin-Earle’s (Dickie) is cool and confident, radiating an aura of elegance and poise. His interactions with Ripley vary from frustration to amusement; a complex character to read but constantly gripping the audience with his charismatic swagger and hot-cold friendship.

While Ripley’s sexuality is fairly ambiguous in the novel, Minghella’s adaptation and the play both reframe this, highlighting a homoerotic tension undercutting Ripley’s obsession. Whether he’s bored, insane, tired of his old life, angry at constant rejection, sexually attracted to Dickie, or simply an attention oar (*wink*), Ripley’s murderous tendencies remain suitably divisive. Notably, there’s a touch less ambivalence with him seeming remarkably less narcissistic and callous in the play to his predecessors, perhaps attempting to ground and humanise him by giving him an array of motives to retain interest in the principal character. It’s arguably problematic to sterilise the senselessness of murder but theatrically it admittedly makes for a more engaging story.

Additionally (spoiler), the fate of Peter differs from both the book (where he’s largely insignificant) and movie where Ripley kills Peter despite falling in love with him as he becomes suspicious of Ripley’s murderous tendencies. In a sweet twist, the play opts for a lighter-hearted moment (although potentially over-humanising Ripley), with a gentle and kind-hearted Peter (Jason Eddy) supporting and eventually kissing him, fully oblivious to his crimes but rejected by Ripley to ensure history doesn’t repeat itself.

Speaking of the plot, there was a glaring hole I could not ignore with the police officer somehow not recognising he’d met Tom before (as Dickie). Sure, he may have forgotten his face, but how would you not know what the people you are searching for in an active case look like?! It’s a hilarious metaphor for the incompetency of the police but it’s a tad too outlandish as it stands.

Additionally, Marge as a character felt a little thinly veiled despite Maisie Smith’s personable and glamourous performance. She feels a little under-developed and sometimes nonsensical, only appearing to create rifts between Ripley and Dickie despite being the welcoming one at the start. 

However, there were many interesting additions, from judgemental asides to intriguing artsy meta commentaries. Several times, the show jolted from Ripley’s present to inside his mind, ticking clocks and stark (albeit overly blinding) coloured beams of light cutting against the typically serene and warm lighting. A shadowy trenchcoated ensemble mock and critique his “acting” (how very meta!), embodying his self-doubt and constant fear of being watched or having his cover blown despite his propensity for taking risks.

Additionally, in these moments he’s often engulfed by ghosts and nightmareish, dreamed up scenarios, and ominously repeated phrases. 

Although a couple of these meta references felt a little out of place, the majority hit the mark, allowing audiences to experience moments inside his mind with a constantly jarring feeling of paranoia and entrapment.

Similarly, Holly Pigott’s set design feels strangely dark and enclosed, an isolated hollow platform taking centre stage surrounded by little decor or furnishings and perhaps reflective of Ripley’s cold, lonely mind? Who’s to say? But its surprisingly effective although it can feel a little too plain from time to time.

The Talented Mr. Ripley is a boat-ifully crafted show with a few rough patches at the seams but an engaging, crafty character study nonetheless. It’s perhaps a tad on the long side, but for someone new to the world of Mr. Ripley, it’s an engaging and twisted tale that’s sure to keep you on the your toes.

The Talented Mr. Ripley runs at Lowry (Quays Theatre) until November 22 2025 and tours the UK until May 2 2026.

Photo: Mark Senior