A first-rate thriller with Damon playing probably the most compelling role of his career (which is to say nothing of the incredible performances turned in by Jude Law and Phillip Seymour Hoffman). What makes Tom Ripley so fascinating isn’t that he’s a great con-artist, but a decent one whose marks do all the heavy lifting for him. In the shallow world of rich young Americans vacationing abroad, everyone builds their own identities, which means Tom fits in even more than he realizes. Jude Law’s character plays jazz despite a lack of talent because he wants to be a person who plays jazz and has enough money to make that happen. Self-absorption is what allows Tom to so quickly infiltrate the ranks of the rich, which makes this feel like Being There reimagined as a thriller.
It has all the hallmarks of a late-Miramax big-Indie movie, so there are moments here and there when, like Tom, the film is trying to pass itself off as something it’s not: an art film. Mostly these are seen in the ending, the weirdly token way homosexuality is dealt with in the film and the blunt and ham-fisted visual metaphor of Tom’s broken reflections, but when the film is content on just being a thriller with a compelling central figure, it really shines. I imagine the stink of prestige film is why this isn’t cited as often in “1999 was a great year for cinema” reminisces, but I’ll take a Mr. Ripley over 30 American Beauties and Magnolias any day. A-