Reviews

In true film noir fashion, the viewer starts with a sympathetic view of the handsome lead which increasingly dissipates as his character slowly reveals his appalling lack of moral compass.

The setting in the Orthodox Jewish community of diamond dealers in Antwerp adds an exotic flavour to the proceedings and the numerous plot twists are an added source of delight.

The acting is generally serviceable, although lead Kevin Janssens has a limited range. As his character becomes increasingly duplicitous, one is hard pressed to find anyone in the film with whom to feel sympathy (again, a classic noir feature). Personally, I found the doggedly determined female detective who brings the house of cards tumbling down to be the true hero.

Highly recommended.

Everything about this film was so phony and superficial it almost made me want to sign up with Dignitas in despair.

Emilia Clarke is irritating and unconvincing as the supposedly cute and quirky "Lou", a role written as a cookie cutter stereotype of the naive but lovable ingénue. Her outfits are so broadly overdone that they merely underscore the shallowness of the whole enterprise. Her dialogue is straight out of daytime TV mediocrity.

Sam Claflin does as best he can as Will, the miserable, paralyzed protagonist who is won over (is this supposed to be a surprise?) by the winsome Lou. Charles Dance is totally wasted as Sam's father.

But beyond the utter banality of the film, its most repulsive aspect is its message: disabled people are better off dead. It is very clear, despite the cloying depiction of the relationship, that Sam and Lou could definitely have had a life together. It wouldn't have been a perfect one, but Lou's love and devotion would have ensured Sam had moments to treasure and cherish. To throw in the towel and voluntarily destroy yourself, causing anguish to your loved ones, is in no way noble or laudable.

It is sadly no surprise that a sensibility that produced such a trite and soulless film could also be shallow enough to endorse self-destruction as a noble act to be admired.

This is a ghastly film with a ghastly message and I am now plotting my revenge on the person who recommended it to me...

It's hard to think of many TV miniseries that are as accomplished and skilfully executed as Ripley. The pleasures in watching this were so intense we watched the first six hours back to back and would have kept going if the hour hadn't been so late.

The first thing to strike the viewer is the exceptional cinematography and lighting, that equal the work of Sven Nykvist and similar masters. The choice of black and white prevents the Italian seaside locales from evoking holiday memories and instead underscore the menace and threat that ripple through proceedings like a deadly undercurrent. As the frailties of the human protagonists become ever more exposed, the mute faces of classical sculptures look on with icy detachment. Shadows recur against walls in finest film noir style, while endless staircases snake across the screen like the complicated web of lies issuing from the resourceful but pitiless Ripley.

And speaking of the man himself, Andrew Scott inhabits the character so effortlessly and convincingly that one forgets this is a performance; Scott IS Ripley. Every facial expression, gesture and line of dialogue is delivered with absolute perfection, showing both the emotional intelligence and psychological insight that Scott brings to the role

The only reservation I have about the film centers on unconvincing plot points that can most likely be laid at the feet of the source material. A sampling:

1. A sophisticated con artist like Ripley is unlikely to think that the rich and entitled Dickie Greenleaf would look favourably on the opportunity to smuggle a suitcase of contraband for a local Mafioso;

2. It strains credibility that after Ripley reveals himself to be a manipulative and shady character, Dickie would turn down Ripley's offer to move out of Dickie's villa fairly early in the proceedings. Why on earth would Dickie want this interloper of dubious morality to stay?

3. When Marge calls Rome to speak to Dickey after Dickey has disappeared, Ripley passes himself off as Dickie on the phone, even though he speaks in his normal speaking voice, which sounds nothing like Dickie;

4. It seems unlikely that with the numerous letters Ripley writes to Marge and Dickie's parents pretending to be Dickie, no one notices any difference in the writing style or vocabulary used that would sound unnatural or different from Dickie's normal way of expressing himself.

There are a few other similar issues with the plotting, but despite these lapses, one's enjoyment of the series is barely dented. For anyone who appreciates film noir, top flight acting or brilliant cinematography, Ripley is truly must-see viewing.

The setup for the plot is brilliant: former same sex lover of a now married man suffers a stroke and is now cared for by the former lover's wife. Rupert Everett as the stroke victim has almost no dialogue, but effectively conveys the hopelessness and depression when his former lover refuses to see him, even though they are both under the same roof.

I am mystified by the barbs thrown in other reviews at Harry Styles, who is natural and convincing in the difficult role of the younger version of Everett's character, Tom. Emma Corrin is charming in a subtle performance as the younger Marion, while Gina McKee somewhat underplays the elderly Marion.

The film highlights the challenges facing gay people in earlier times without being overly preachy or didactic. If some film goers find this picture does not resonate with them, there is nothing wrong with that, but it doesn't reflect a lack of quality in the movie itself. Highly recommended!

The elements were here for what could have been a great crossover success. However, it is spoiled by excessive preachiness and feels very much agenda-driven rather than focusing on simply being entertaining. Here in the UK, the preaching starts before the film even gets underway, with Eichner introducing a reel of flamboyant, super-swishy ads that would have put many straight cinema goers in immediate doubt about their film choice.

Similarly, the film sledgehammers gay didacticism at every turn, with a LGBT museum at the heart of the plot and a parade of stereotypes on the museum board (trans woman of colour, token bisexual, blah blah blah). We are lectured by the lead character that second graders should be taught about the sexual orientation of historical figures (patently inadvisable) and the film ends with his boyfriend's straight mother dutifully taking her second grade class to the gay museum and telling the smug protagonist, "Yes, you were right, these second graders need to be confronted with the homosexuality of historical figures." Bah! Eichner needs to have a sit-down with Gays Against Groomers.

There are also several moments where you feel Eichner is trying to shock straight audiences with sexual frankness, repeatedly focusing on group sex, talking about "your massive penis going into my tiny anus", etc etc. None of this adds anything to the film.

On the plus side, Luke MacFarlane is totally endearing and underplays his role nicely. And unlike some other reviewers, I could imagine Luke's character falling for his polar opposite like Eichner. A particularly insightful scene depicts the two men actually getting into a physical altercation in a park, which leads to their first deep connection. This was nicely written and excellently portrayed.

Overall, there are a fair number of laughs here for a gay audience and Luke MacFarlane is supremely watchable in almost anything. But what could have been a big hit with general audiences is spoiled by the narcissistic Hollywood didacticism that permeates the entire enterprise.