"THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY" Screenplay by Anthony Minghella Based on the novel by Patricia Highsmith 1st November 1999 1958 PROLOGUE: INT. RIPLEY'S CABIN. EVENING. Fade up on Ripley, as in the final scene of the film, sitting, desolate in a ship's cabin. The camera rotates around his face, which begins in light and ends in darkness. RIPLEY (O/S) If I could just go back. If I could rub everything out. Starting with myself. Starting with borrowing a jacket. EXT. CENTRAL PARK WEST TERRACE. EARLY EVENING. Ripley is at the piano, accompanying FRAN, a young soprano. CREDITS begin. FRAN (SINGS) Ah, such fleeting paradise such innocent delight to love, be loved, a lullabye, then silence. The song finishes. Applause. They're the entertainment at a cocktail party to celebrate a silver wedding anniversary. Some partygoers congratulate Fran on her performance. A distinguished looking man, pushing his wife in a wheelchair, Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library approaches Ripley, offers his hand. HERBERT GREENLEAF Most enjoyable. Herbert Greenleaf. RIPLEY Tom Ripley. Thank you, sir. HERBERT GREENLEAF (pointing at Ripley's borrowed jacket) I see you were at Princeton. Then you'll most likely know our son, Dick. Dickie Greenleaf... EMILY GREENLEAF We couldn't help noticing your jacket. HERBERT GREENLEAF Yes. EMILY GREENLEAF Class of '56? RIPLEY (hesitating) How is Dickie? INT. ELEVATOR OPENING OUT INTO LOBBY. EARLY EVENING. Fran, Ripley, Mr and Mrs Greenleaf and others emerge from an elevator. Emily talks to Fran, Herbert to Ripley. EMILY GREENLEAF (to Fran) I hope you'll come and see us... FRAN That's very kind. EMILY GREENLEAF Both of you... HERBERT GREENLEAF Of course, Dickie's idea of music is Jazz. He has a saxophone. To my ear Jazz is just noise, just an insolent Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library noise. EXT. CENTRAL PARK WEST. EARLY EVENING. Ripley shakes hands with Herbert Greenleaf as he gets into his Rolls Royce. They are making an appointment. Ripley crosses the street to Fran, pecks her cheek. She hands him his share of their fee. RIPLEY Gotta run. I'm so late. (he hands Fran's boyfriend the jacket he's been wearing) Thanks for the jacket. BOYFRIEND Sure. Thanks for filling in for me. From Greenleaf's point of view he sees a couple embracing. EMILY GREENLEAF Darling couple, aren't they? HERBERT GREENLEAF Yes. An exceptional young man. From another vantage point Ripley hurries on as Fran gets into her boyfriend's car. A piano quartet starts up. EXT. THEATER. EVENING. Ripley runs past the droves of arriving concert-goers and heads for the theater. Music continues. INT. MEN'S ROOM, THEATER. NIGHT. The interval: A thick mass of men in tuxedoes grooming themselves at the basins. Ripley turns on faucets, offers towels, brushes off dandruff. Men talk over, round, and through him. Put coins in a bowl. INT. A BOX AT THE THEATER. NIGHT The concert continues. Ripley peers through the curtain at the performances. A haughty woman in the box turns round and he closes the curtain. Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library INT. BACKSTAGE. 1:30 A.M. An empty auditorium. Ripley plays Bach in the blue ghostlight. A caretaker emerges from his rounds, flips on the house lights. Ripley jerks up from his playing, waves apologetically. RIPLEY Sorry, sorry. I know. Sorry. EXT. GREENLEAF SHIPYARDS, BROOKLYN. DAY. Greenleaf and Ripley walk through one of the drydocks. A huge void in the shape of a boat, swarming with workers preparing the shell of a new liner. If Central Park is where the money is spent, this is clearly where it's made. And a lot of it. Workers nod deferentially to the man with his name over the buildings behind them. HERBERT GREENLEAF Mongibello. Tiny place. South of Naples. Marge, his uh, the young lad is supposedly writing some kind of book. God knows what he does. By all accounts they spend the whole time on the beach. Or his sailboat. That's my son's talent, spending his allowance. Ripley, in his green corduroy jacket the very model of a sober young man, listens attentively. HERBERT GREENLEAF Could you ever conceive of going to Italy, Tom, persuade my son to come home? (Ripley looks doubtful) I'd pay you. I'd pay you 1000 dollars. RIPLEY I've always wanted to go to Europe, sir, but... HERBERT GREENLEAF Good. Now you can go for a reason. Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT, NEW YORK. DAY. A vinyl RECORD revolves in close up. An exuberant and mysterious VOICE is scat singing. Wild. Then the sound slides into a raucous big band jazz number: Dizzy Gillespie's The Champ. A HAND ejects the record. When the camera finds the man's face it is BLINDFOLDED. He's hot. He's wearing an undershirt. He's trying to identify the recording. RIPLEY I don't know. Count Basie? Duke Ellington. I don't know. Count Basie. The man pulls of the blindfold, examines the record cover of the disc he's been trying to learn, needs to put on glasses to do so, is irritated by his mistake. He ejects the record. A pile of other jazz records are strewn across a cluttered table which includes classical sheet music and a paper keyboard. One hand idly mimes at the keys. INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY. Another song for Ripley to identify is on the gramophone. Chet Baker's My Funny Valentine. Signs everywhere of packing. A suitcase. Books about Italy. Ripley paces in this BASEMENT room, which is bathroom, kitchen, living room and bedroom all in one. Tiny, tidy, squalid and sad. The windows give onto bars and a wall. RIPLEY Don't even know if this is a man or a woman. There's a violent row going on in the room above his head. He flinches. INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY. Ripley, shining his shoes, packing almost done, is testing himself on another piece of music. Free jazz saxophone: Charlie Parker's Koko. He listens hard, recognizes the track. RIPLEY That's Charlie Parker. Bird. Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library He skips over to the gramophone, checks the record. He's right, he smiles. INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY. Ripley studies an old photograph of Dickie Greenleaf in a Princeton Yearbook. He shoves the book in a bag, picks up his suitcase and takes a last look around the dingy apartment before closing the door behind him. EXT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY. Ripley hauls his luggage up the stairs and into the sunlight. He is met at the top of the stairs by Mr Greenleaf's chauffeur. CHAUFFEUR Here. I'll take that. RIPLEY Thanks. CARETAKER (nodding towards the apartment) That thousand bucks should come in handy. RIPLEY Yes, sir. CHAUFFEUR (interrupts Ripley, who is about to open the car door) I'll get that. RIPLEY Thanks. CHAUFFEUR (as he holds open the door for Ripley) Sir. (Ripley laughs excitedly) Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library You're gonna have a great trip. Mr Greenleaf is personal friends with the Cunard people. INT. HERBERT GREENLEAF'S CAR. DAY. Ripley luxuriates in the back of the Greenleaf limousine. He opens up an envelope he's carrying with Greenleaf stationery. Inside a First Class Cunard Ticket, some traveler's checks and dollars. CHAUFFEUR I can tell you. The Greenleaf name opens a lot of doors. EXT. QUEEN MARY, MANHATTAN SKYLINE. DAY. The liner leaves New York en route to Italy. END CREDITS. INT. NAPLES HARBOR, CUSTOMS & IMMIGRATION HALL. DAY. ITALY. Brilliant sunshine. The Queen Mary has just docked. Passengers can be seen disembarking through the huge windows. Coming from the First Class gangways they are greeted, escorted, fussed over into the hall. Their bags have been unloaded ahead of them, and are now being sorted in the hall under the initials of their owners. STANDS WITH THE LETTERS OF THE ALPHABET CHALKED ON THEM are dotted about, and trunks and suitcases of all shapes and sizes form small hills around them. Ripley enters and an Italian Porter approaches, wants his name. Ripley. Ripley. Ripley! he repeats in the hubbub and joins the crowd around the letter R. A striking young woman (MEREDITH) is nearby. She notices him. Ripley proceeds to the Customs area, where he's held in a line as a large suitcase is opened and searched. Meredith catches up with him. Her luggage a mountain next to his. MEREDITH What's your secret? RIPLEY Excuse me? Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library MEREDITH No, it's just -- you are American, aren't you? -- no, I just, I have so much luggage, and you're so, uh, streamlined. It's humiliating. Ripley shrugs. Now they're opening a second case of the passenger ahead. Hard not to converse. MEREDITH I'm Meredith, by the way. Meredith Randall. RIPLEY Dickie, Dickie Greenleaf. Hello. MEREDITH Hello. They are passed through immigration, head down the long stairs towards the street. Meredith catches up with Ripley. MEREDITH You're not the Shipping Greenleaf's? RIPLEY (thinking quickly) Trying not to be. Trying to jump ship. MEREDITH So now, did they put your suitcase in the wrong pile? It's just -- upstairs -- weren't you under the R stand? I thought I saw you there. RIPLEY My father wants me in New York. He builds boats. I'd rather sail them. I travel under my mother's name. MEREDITH Which is? RIPLEY Emily. (Meredith's bewildered) Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library Just kidding. MEREDITH The funny thing is, I'm not Randall either. I'm Logue. RIPLEY (nods, recognizing the name) As in the...? MEREDITH As in the Textile Logues. Trying to shrug off the dress. I travel under my mother's name, too. RIPLEY Randall. MEREDITH Right. They've arrived at a crossroads on the stairs -- graphic signs explain the choices: one way for Buses, Taxis and exits -- the other for Trains: ROMA, VENEZIA, MILANO. They're going in different directions. MEREDITH (offering her hand) So -- partners in disguise. (looks at the signs) Bye. EXT. COASTAL ROAD FROM NAPLES. LATE AFTERNOON. A BUS rolls around a coastal road cut into the side of a cliff, mountain above, blue sea below. INT. BUS. LATE AFTERNOON. Ripley sits surrounded by teeming life. The bus slows at a new town. People get off. INT/EXTERIOR. BUS ARRIVES MONGIBELLO. LATE DAY. Later, the day ending. Ripley looks out as they continue on their journey. Arriving at a small fishing port they wind Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library down through a square, passing the local church. EXT. MONGIBELLO, FISHERMAN'S WHARF. LATE DAY. And then the bus is in the heart of a wharf. On one side there's evidence of the fisherman's life, nets, old men working. Opposite there's a tiny cafe spilling out onto the street, young guys hang out, play table football, lounge on their Vespas. The Driver chants -- DRIVER MONGIBELLO! Ripley gets out, lugging his cases, as the bus continues on its way. He looks around him. He feels completely foreign. EXT. MIRAMARE HOTEL/BOAT AT SEA. MORNING. A SAILBOAT has slid into his view, now drops anchor, drops the sail. A couple dive off and swim towards shore. ALL OF THIS IS FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF RIPLEY, who's watching the events through binoculars from his tiny balcony in the Miramare Hotel. An Italian Vocabulary Book is perched on his knees and, during this, he continues his study, mouthing the Italian words. RIPLEY (looking at a long, lean girl about to dive) La fidanzata a una faccia. The fianc�e has a face. La fidanzata e Marge. Her partner, DICKIE GREENLEAF, dives too. They're brown, beautiful, perfect. Ripley notices the name of the boat: "BIRD". RIPLEY Questo e la mia faccia... The golden couple emerge from the sea. Dickie shakes off the water, grins. RIPLEY This is my face. Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library He double-checks himself with the vocabulary book. RIPLEY Questa... e la mia faccia. Questa e la faccia di Dickie. EXT. MONGIBELLO. DAY. Ripley emerges from one of the beach cabins, and stands on the edge of the sand on a wooden walkway. He's wearing A TINY LIME-GREEN BATHING SUIT. He loathes beaches. A couple of boys turn laconically and watch him. Ripley puts on his shoes and scurries to the sea. He feels ridiculous, his skin alabaster against the brown bodies. Finally, the shame is too great and he pulls off his shoes and dashes to the water, where he luxuriates in the coolness of it before wading out of the sea, and walking straight up to Dickie. RIPLEY Dickie Greenleaf? Dickie squints at Ripley, who holds his shoes, lamely. DICKIE Who's this? RIPLEY It's Tom. Tom Ripley. We were at Princeton together. DICKIE Okay. (he sits up) And did we know each other? RIPLEY Well, I knew you, so I suppose you must have known me. DICKIE (to Marge) Princeton is like a fog, America's like a fog. (to Ripley) Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library This is Marge Sherwood. Tom -- sorry, what was it? RIPLEY Ripley. Hullo. How do you do. MARGE How do you do. DICKIE What are you doing in Mongi? RIPLEY Nothing. Nothing much. Passing through. DICKIE (finds this idea absurd) Passing through! You're so white. Did you ever see a guy so white, Marge? Gray, actually. RIPLEY It's just an undercoat. (Marge laughs) DICKIE Say again? RIPLEY You know, a primer. DICKIE That's funny. He shares some intimacy with Marge, makes her laugh. Ripley stands as they wrestle around him. Marge looks up. MARGE You should come and have lunch with us, before you go -- Dickie? DICKIE Sure. Any time. MARGE And be careful in the sun. Your gray's Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library in danger of turning a little pink. RIPLEY Thanks. Well, a coincidence. EXT. MONGIBELLO. EARLY MORNING. ANOTHER DAY. Church Bells ringing. Dickie, dressed in shorts, comes bumping up the cobbled path towards the square on his MOTORSCOOTER. He stops by a steep flight of steps. RIPLEY, a book in hand, unseen, walking up a hill, catches all this and, intrigued, watches as a young Italian beauty, SILVANA, has a spikey, flirtatious exchange with Dickie, then climbs on the scooter, behind him. DICKIE I've been looking for you everywhere. SILVANA Ah, today you're looking for me. And where have you been the rest of the week? Pig. With your American girl? I hate you, you know? DICKIE What? SILVANA I hate you. And RIPLEY watches them as they rattle down the hill towards the sea. EXT. MARGE'S HOUSE. AFTERNOON. Dickie appears in Marge's garden, the sea behind his head. Marge is sitting at her outside table surrounded by some of the remnants of lunch. Dickie's sheepish, showered, late. DICKIE Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know, I'm late, I'm a swine. MARGE Did you forget where I live? It's Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library four o'clock. DICKIE I just woke up. I'm sorry. MARGE You just woke up! DICKIE Fausto and I -- we took the boat out, we were fishing, and then it was dawn and we'd caught absolutely nothing. MARGE Well, we ate everything without you. DICKIE We? MARGE Yes, Tom Ripley's here. As Ripley appears with the tray to collect more dishes. DICKIE Who? Oh, Tom, hello, how are you? We thought you'd disappeared. We were going to send out a search party. RIPLEY No, still here. MARGE Tom was telling me about his trip over. Made me laugh so much I got a nosebleed. DICKIE Is that good? MARGE Shut up! Marge flicks him with a napkin. They start to wrestle, excluding Tom. Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library RIPLEY I'm intruding. DICKIE Can you mix a martini? RIPLEY (hesitant) Sure. MARGE (going inside) I'll do it. I make a fabulous martini. DICKIE Everybody should have one talent. (to Ripley) What's yours? RIPLEY (without a beat) Forging signatures. Telling lies. Impersonating practically anybody. DICKIE (enjoying this banter) That's three. Nobody should have more than one talent. Okay, do an impression. RIPLEY Now? Okay. Wait a minute. Talent -- (his voice ages, his face changes) The only talent my son has is for cashing his allowance. DICKIE (absolutely thrown) What? What's this? RIPLEY I like to sail, believe me, I love to sail! Instead I make boats and other people sail them. DICKIE Script provided for educational purposes. More scripts can be found here: http://www.sellingyourscreenplay.com/library