Martand Badoni

The black and white palate of the series makes way for a single-minded affair with light. In fact, the series pays tribute to it too, in a scene where a priest philosophically confesses to Ripley- ‘La Luce, Sempre La Luce (The light, always the light)’. To exemplify the effect the cinematography and direction had on me: I woke up today and opened my back door to notice the morning sun falling on the doorstep in elegant angles. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that RiPLEY made me see this light with this particular aesthetic awareness. Reminding me of the more charming after effects of indulging in cinema. This singular takeaway is enough for me, apart from the facts of great acting, screenplay, and set design. To muse further, what is it about all the Ripley cinema that makes one almost want Tom Ripley to get away with all the terrible things that he does? Is it the fact that he wants that life of status and opulence so bad, and goes through so much dark agitation for it, that we, as viewers, want to see him breathe peacefully in it for a few moments? For the sake of our own relief, if nothing else. Or does Ripley’s characterisation as an essentially sad being, somewhat trapped in his masculinity, appeal to something deeper within us? A feeling of not fitting in socially, of not being accepted for our intellect but always judged for where we come from, and/or a fear of falling into an imagined abyss of penury and nobody-ness. Whatever it is, it keeps us on the edge of our seats, the plot constantly flirting with the discovery of Ripley’s terrible crimes. So, whenever he, or circumstance, outsmart his nemesis—the truth of it all—it makes for simultaneous cycles of tension and relief dancing upon an ever fading canvas of morality.