By Rachel Jones & Luke Richards.
“I never wanted to murder anyone. It was necessary.” Not exactly a comforting opening line, but it tells you everything you need to know about The Talented Mr Ripley.
Based on Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller, this adaptation leans straight into questions of identity, ambition, and just how far someone might go for a better life (spoiler: quite far).
From the start, it’s clear this isn’t aiming for cosy, traditional storytelling. The production is highly stylised, but in a way that feels purposeful rather than showy. The set is built around a single central block with a hollow middle. This sounds simple on paper, but is used brilliantly. It becomes entrances, exits, hiding places, and platforms for interaction, constantly shifting its role. It’s one of those designs where you start off thinking “oh that’s clever” and end up slightly obsessed with how much it’s doing.
The lighting deserves its own mention. Fluorescent tube lights frame the stage, giving everything a sharp, modern edge. They flicker, flash, and shift in ways that genuinely affect how you feel watching it. At times it’s disorientating (in a good way) pulling you into Ripley’s headspace. You’re not just watching him unravel; you’re sort of unravelling alongside him – which feels unfair, but effective.
The cast is small but incredibly versatile, with actors slipping between roles so smoothly it takes a second to clock it. The world feels much bigger than the number of people on stage. Particularly memorable are the ever-present figures in trench coats and hats, hovering around Ripley like a bad conscience or a group chat you can’t leave. They create this constant low-level tension, as if he’s always being watched, or managed.
What really lands, though, is Ripley himself. Yes, the deception and manipulation are front and centre, but the production digs deeper into his internal struggle. His coded homosexuality in the 1950s adds a layer of repression, but more than that, there’s a sense of someone who just doesn’t quite know how to be around other people. He studies, imitates, adjusts. He is constantly performing a version of himself that might fit.
At times, this is made literal. The trench-coated figures physically direct his movements, almost like he’s being coached through social interactions. Add to that a disembodied voice shouting “cut” and “reset,” with blasts of harsh white light, and it starts to feel like Ripley is stuck in some kind of surreal rehearsal he can’t escape. It’s unsettling, slightly absurd, and weirdly relatable.
Despite all this stylisation, it never becomes hard to follow or emotionally distant. It’s engaging throughout, and you don’t need to know the story beforehand to get a lot out of it. If anything, going in fresh might make it even more unsettling.
Overall, this is a bold, inventive, and genuinely gripping production. It looks great, it’s packed with strong performances, and it leaves you with plenty to think about, maybe even including your own life choices, though hopefully not to Ripley’s extent! Definitely worth seeing, whether you’re a fan of the story or completely new to it.
Runs until Saturday 2 May at Salisbury Playhouse. For tickets and more information, click here.
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