It’s a testament to Patricia Highsmith’s enduring work that her 1955 novel The Talented Mr Ripley continues to seduce new audiences across generations. Having inspired both an Oscar-nominated film and a recent Netflix series, it now finds fresh and stylish life on stage in Mark Leipacher’s taut, intoxicating adaptation – which he also directs.
From the first moment Ed McVey’s Tom Ripley appears – a petty New York conman with champagne tastes and no means to satisfy them – the production thrums with unease. When a wealthy stranger offers him a job persuading his playboy son, Dickie Greenleaf (Bruce Herbelin-Earle), to return home from Italy, Ripley glimpses an escape from drudgery. What follows is a masterclass in moral decay: deceit, desire and murder played out beneath the Mediterranean sun.
Leipacher’s staging is splendidly stylised, fluid and impeccably choreographed. The ensemble cast glide across the stage, shifting scenery with almost balletic grace – locations changing seamlessly with minimal use of props. The action slips from Manhattan to the Amalfi coast with flair, evoking both the shadowy elegance of film noir and the textured neo-realism of post-war Italian cinema. It’s a world that gleams with a stark beauty while quietly rotting from within – much like Ripley himself.
Designer Holly Pigott transforms the Richmond Theatre’s stage into a minimalist black box, stripped to its essence yet pulsing with atmosphere. Zeynep Kepekli’s lighting – all strip lights and stark contrasts – is powerful although it occasionally risks dazzling the audience as much as Ripley’s charm and it’s aided and abetted by Max Pappenheim’s throbbing sound design.
At its core stands the marvellous McVey, on stage throughout and utterly magnetic. His Ripley is a creature of contradictions: nervous yet calculating, vulnerable yet predatory. His slightly abrasive voice becomes a weapon of seduction, his eyes flickering between longing and cold intent. It’s a performance of rare precision.
Herbelin-Earle’s Dickie Greenleaf is the perfect foil: languid, charming and fatally oblivious; his careless warmth makes his downfall all the more chilling. As Marge Sherwood, Maisie Smith brings intelligence and emotional weight to the part. Christopher Bianchi doubles deftly as Dickie’s father and as the Italian detective Roverini, while Cary Crankson makes the most of the brief appearance of Freddie Miles. The rest of the ensemble contributes to a sense of choreographed precision and purpose.
Not everything works – at nearly two hours forty, it could do with a bit of a trim. One place to start would be the three odd sequences, in which characters call “cut” and “reset” as if filming a movie which seemed to add confusion rather than add any insight.
Still, this Ripley remains both elegant and unsettling – a study in envy and identity that creeps under the skin. Leipacher achieves what once seemed impossible: turning Highsmith’s cool psychological thriller into live theatre that feels both faithful and freshly dangerous. See it for McVey’s mesmerising performance alone – though, like Ripley’s charm, it’s best not to resist, as who knows what the consequences might be!
Reviewed by Alan Fitter.
Four Stars.
Theatre, Art and Film Reviews 
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