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Stella Bruzzi: The Talented Mr. Ripley - Arts @ Brunel

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EnterText 1.2<br />

style of Plein Soleil is more disjointed and disruptive. Besides the hand-held sequences<br />

such as the fish market scene, there is the film’s use of unconventional camera angles and<br />

moves, the funniest being a zoom right at the end: Tom and Marge are shown in long-<br />

shot walking hand in hand to the beach at Mongibello; the camera starts an odd, jerky<br />

zoom in to what seems for a moment to be Delon’s crotch, as this is what has been<br />

centre-frame; instead the camera rests in close-up on the rather less adventurous image of<br />

the lovers’ linked hands. <strong>The</strong> intrusions of the camera are felt elsewhere as well. When<br />

Tom has killed Freddie Miles in his apartment in Rome, the lengthy sequence that<br />

follows and fills the time until nightfall when Tom will better be able to dispose of the<br />

body is principally shot from about knee-height as if paralleling Freddie’s point of view<br />

lying dead on the floor. <strong>The</strong> spectator is not only made to worry that Tom is going to be<br />

found out (such a specific angle often implies in the thriller context the point of view of a<br />

person spying on someone else), but that there is too much we are not being allowed to<br />

see. <strong>The</strong> off-screen space suddenly seems unbearably copious. This tension is amplified<br />

by the length of the sequence and the silence that pervades it until Tom finally collapses<br />

Freddie into his car, especially the portion in which a sweating Alain Delon carries the<br />

body down the stairs. <strong>The</strong> crowning bizarre touch is the inclusion of two priests strolling<br />

by ÃÃÃÃÃred ÃDelon lunges towards Freddie’s car.<br />

What all this manages to convey is the notion that what is occurring on the<br />

prosaic level of plot is only half the story, that there are other levels of subliminal<br />

meaning below the surface texture of the film. <strong>The</strong> complexity of Nino Rota’s (spelt<br />

“Rotta” in the title sequence) score, for instance, flits from jazzy to slightly out of tune<br />

local Italian to classically inspired to romantic. All these strands are signalled in the<br />

<strong>Stella</strong> <strong>Bruzzi</strong>: <strong>The</strong> <strong>Talented</strong> <strong>Mr</strong>. <strong>Ripley</strong> 26

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