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The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999) | Transcript

In late 1950s New York, Tom Ripley, a young underachiever, is sent to Italy to retrieve Dickie Greenleaf, a rich and spoiled millionaire playboy. But when the errand fails, Ripley takes extreme measures.
The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

“It’s better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody.”. Tom Ripley is a charismatic sociopath who makes his way in mid-’50s New York as a rest room attendant and pianist. His skill however is in impersonating other people, forging handwriting and running second-rate scams. Unhappy with his own life, he kills and takes on the persona of somebody else.

* * *

RIPLEY: If I could just go back. If I could rub everything out… starting with myself.

…starting with borrowing a jacket.

[SINGING] Ah, such fleeting paradise such innocent delight

To love

Be loved

Alullabye

Then silence

[GUESTS APPLAUDING]

WOMAN 1: Frances, that was lovely.

WOMAN 2: I’m so glad. Thank you.

MAN 1: congratulations.

MAN 2: Lovely, my dear.

Marvelous. Marvelous. Most enjoyable.

Herbert Greenleaf. My wife, Emily.

Thank you. Tom Ripley.

How do you do?

You were at Princeton.

Most likely you’ll know our son, Dick. Dickie Greenleaf.

EMILY: I couldn’t help noticing your jacket.

Yes.

Class of ’56.

How is Dickie?

FRANK: Oh, we’ve enjoyed meeting you.

I do hope that you’ll come out and see us.

Thank you. That’s very kind.

Both of you.

Herbert?

Yes, yes. I very much hope so.

Of course, Dickie’s idea of music is jazz.

Heh, oh, dear.

He has a saxophone.

To my ear, jazz is just noise.

Just an insolent noise.

It was very nice to meet you.

And you.

Sir.

GREENLEAF: See you at the shipyard.

I hope to. Okay.

Good.

I have to run! I’m very late!

Uh, you were great!

You were great.

Darling couple, aren’t they?

Yes, they are. Exceptional young man.

[DOOR CLOSES]

Thanks for the jacket.

Thanks for filling in for me.

RIPLEY: Take care of that wrist. Bye, Fran.

MAN 1: Believe me, buy IBM now, before it splits.

You’ll make yourself a fortune.

MAN 2: You think so?

[CHATTERING]

[PLAYING VIOLIN]

[RIPLEY PLAYING BACH’S “ITALIAN CONCERTO” ON PIANO]

Sorry. Sorry.

I know. Sorry.

GREENLEAF: You’ve probably heard Dickie’s been living in Italy.

Mongibello. South of Naples.

No kind of place at all.

MAN: Good morning, sir.

Frank.

Marge, his, um, young lady… is supposedly writing some kind of book.

God only knows what he does.

By all accounts, they spend the whole time on the beach or in a sailboat.

That’s my son’s talent, spending his allowance.

Could you ever conceive of going to Italy, Tom?

Persuade my son to come home?

I’d pay you.

A thousand dollars.

Well, I have always wanted to go to Europe, sir, but–

Good. Now you can go for a reason.

[DIZZY GILLESPIE’S “THE CHAMP” PLAYING ON GRAMOPHONE]

RIPLEY: Count Basie.

Duke Ellington? I don’t know.

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

Dizzy Gillespie.

[CHET BAKER’S “MY FUNNY VALENTINE” PLAYING ON GRAMOPHONE]

My funny valentine.

MAN: You’re an ugly bitch!

[CHATTERING]

[SHOUTING]

I don’t even know if this is a man or a woman.

[THUDDING]

[CHARLIE PARKER’S “KO-KO” PLAYING ON GRAMOPHONE]

Charlie Parker?

Charlie Parker. I know it. That’s Bird.

Yes!

Ugh.

Here. I’ll take it.

Thanks.

That thousand bucks should come in handy.

Yes, sir.

MAN: I’II get that.

RIPLEY: Thank you.

Sir.

[RIPLEY CHUCKLES]

You’re gonna have a great trip.

Mr.Greenleaf is personal friends with the Cunard people.

I can tell you, the Greenleaf name opens a lot of doors.

[PEOPLE CHATTERING]

[ANNOUNCER SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

RIPLEY: English?

You speak English?

What your name, please?

Ripley.

Follow me. No problem.

Here, Signor Ripley.

Okay.

This?

Uh, there. That one.

This one.

Wait, is that all? Count them.

Just one suitcase, Signor Ripley?

Si.

[MAN 1 SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Oh, custom.

[PEOPLE SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

What’s your secret?

Excuse me?

No, it’s just that–

You are American, aren’t you?

Heh.

No, heh, it’s just that–

I have so much luggage, and you’re so, um, streamlined.

It’s, you know, humiliating.

[MAN 2 SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

I’m Meredith, by the way.

Hello, I’m Dickie.

U h, Meredith Randall.

U m, Dickie Greenleaf.

Hello.

You’re not the shipping Greenleafs.

Oh, trying not to be.

Trying to jump ship.

So, uh, did they put your cases in the wrong pile?

It’s just that, heh, uh, you were in the R stand.

Well, I thought I saw you there.

My father wants me back in New York.

He builds boats. I’d rather sail them.

So I travel under my mother’s name.

Which is…?

Emily.

I’m just kidding.

Ha, ha.

You know, the funny thing is…

…I’m not Randall either.

I’m Logue.

As in–

As in the textile Logues.

Trying to shrug off the dress.

I travel under my mother’s name too.

RIPLEY: Randall.

Right, heh.

So, Rome, Rome, Rome…

[MEREDITH GRUNTS]

We’re partners in disguise. Bye.

Heh, bye.

[PEOPLE SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[SINGING IN ITALIAN]

[PEOPLE CHATTERING]

[RIPLEY SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

RIPLEY: “The fiancée has a face.”

[RIPLEY SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

“Bird.”

“This is my face.”

[SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

[PEOPLE CHATTERING]

MARGE: So I guess you didn’t look at my new chapter.

DICKIE: I will, Marge. I promise.

It’s just been too hot.

MARGE: Mm-hm.

If I make dinner tonight, you could look at it then.

Dickie Greenleaf?

Who’s that?

It’s Tom. Tom Ripley.

Tom Ripley?

We were at Princeton together.

DICKIE: Okay.

Did we know each other?

Hello. Uh, well, I knew you…

…so I suppose you must have known me, heh.

Princeton’s like a fog.

America’s like a fog.

MARGE: Heh.

This is Marge Sherwood. Tom-Sorry, what is it?

Ripley.

MARGE: How do you do?

RIPLEY: How do you do, Marge?

What are you doing in Mongi?

RIPLEY: Nothing, heh.

Nothing much.

Just passing through.

Heh.

Passing through?

Yeah.

You’re so white.

[DICKIE CHUCKLES]

Did you ever see a guy so white, Marge?

Gray, actually.

It’s just an undercoat.

MARGE: Heh.

DICKIE: Say again?

You know, a primer.

[ALL CHUCKLE]

That’s funny.

Margie likes that because she’s so white too.

MARGE: Yes, I do, and you’re not funny.

You should come and have lunch with us before you go.

Yes, Dickie?

Sure, anytime.

Well…

Coincidence.

I don’t remember him.

That’s so funny.

DICKIE: Silvana! Hey!

I’ve been looking all over for you. Where’ve you been hiding?

Today you’re looking for me. Where you been the rest of the week?

You’re always working.

DICKIE: Come on. Get on.

SILVANA: With the American girl?

DICKIE: Huh?

Hold on to me.

I hate you.

DICKIE: Huh?

SILVANA: I hate you!

MARGE: Did you suddenly forget where I lived?

I know. I’m late. I’m a swine.

It’s 4:00.

I just woke up.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Oh? Heh.

You just woke up.

Fausto and I took the boat out.

We were fishing, and then it was dawn…

…and we’d caught absolutely nothing.

Hmm. Yes, well…

…heh, we ate everything without you.

We?

Yes.

Tom Ripley’s here.

Who?

Tom. Hello.

RIPLEY: Hi.

Hello.

How are you?

Thought you’d disappeared.

We were gonna send out a search party.

Heh, no. No, still here.

Tom was telling me about his journey over.

[LAUGHS]

Made me laugh so hard, I almost got a nosebleed.

Is that good?

Shut up.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I’m despicable. But I love you.

Do you love me? Do you love me?

I’m intruding.

Can you mix a martini?

Sure.

Ah, I’ll do it.

Oh.

I make a fabulous martini.

[MARGE LAUGHS]

Everybody should have one talent. What’s yours?

Forging signatures, uh…

…telling lies, impersonating practically anybody.

That’s three. Nobody should have more than one talent.

Okay, do an impression.

Now?

Yeah.

[AS GREENLEAF] The only talent my son has…

…is for cashing his allowance.

What?

Oh, I like to sail.

Believe me, I love to sail.

Instead, I make boats.

Stop!

Other people sail them.

It’s too much! You’re making all the hairs…

-…on my neck stand up.

Oh, yes. Jazz. Oh, jazz. Let’s face it.

It’s just, uh-It’s just insolent noise.

I feel like he’s here.

RIPLEY: Heh.

Horrible, like the old bastard’s here right now.

[IN NORMAL VOICE] Good.

That’s brilliant.

Brilliant! How do you know him?

Oh, I met him, uh, in New York.

Marge! Marge, this is scary.

You’ve gotta hear this. Meet my father…

…Herbert Richard Greenleaf I.

[AS GREENLEAF] Pleasure to meet you. Dickie’s made a fine catch.

Uncanny!

I know Emily thinks so.

I don’t get it.

It’s uncanny.

Could you ever conceive of going to Italy, Tom…

…and, uh, bringing him back?

What?

I’d pay you.

If you would go to Italy…

…persuade my son to come home, I’d pay you $ 1000.

What?

DICKIE: I’m never going back.

To actually hire somebody to come all the way here…

…to drag me back home–

Got to be a little insane, hasn’t he?

[ALL SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

This is Tom.

I’m never going back.

RIPLEY: No, I think–

Your mother, her illness, I think that’s–

It’s got nothing to do with my mother.

[CROWD CHATTERING]

She’s had leukem-This is what makes me boil about him.

He wants me back. He wants me back.

It’s got nothing to do with my mother.

RIPLEY: I don’t know–

DICKIE: Go back. Go back to New York.

Or call him, if you can find a telephone that works…

…and tell him wild horses wouldn’t drag me back to him or his shipyard.

Hi, Tom.

RIPLEY: Hi!

DICKIE: Marge. Tom’s saying goodbye.

MARGE: Oh, I’ll come down.

So, uh, did you speak to my father?

Oh, you were right. About the telephones.

DICKIE: I told you.

There are no lines.

There’s some problem.

DICKIE: That’s Italy.

[RIPLEY CHUCKLES]

Tom. You’re off? What are your plans?

Oh, back, I suppose, as slow as I can. Oh!

This bag!

MARGE: Oh!

Hey. You like jazz.

I love jazz.

DICKIE: Oh!

This is the best.

Baker, Rollins.

Marge says she likes jazz, but she thinks Glenn Miller’s jazz.

I never said that.

DICKIE: Perry Como.

Bird. That’s jazz.

Bird? Ask me the name of my sailboat.

I don’t know. What’s the name of your boat?

Look! Look! Bird!

MARGE: Which is ridiculous. Boats are female.

Everyone knows you can’t call a boat after a man.

He’s not a man. He’s a god.

Okay, we’re going to Naples.

There’s a club-It’s not a club, it’s a cellar.

It’s vile.

DICKIE: Yes, it’s vile.

Don’t worry. You don’t have to come. It’s great. It’s great. You’re gonna love it.

[PLAYING BOBBY TIMMONS’ “MOANIN”‘]

[CROWD CHATTERING]

[SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

How are you?

[AUDIENCE LAUGHING AND APPLAUDING]

[BOTH SINGING IN ITALIAN]

…whiskey and soda…

…rock’n’roll…

…baseball…

[AUDIENCE LAUGHING AND APPLAUDING]

That’d be cool. Bring him up.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Tom Ripley!

Tom! America!

Come on! Get on up here!

Yeah!

[SINGING IN ITALIAN]

I’ll tell you when to join the chorus.

Come on.

Okay. Together!

[ALL SINGING IN ITALIAN]

…whiskey and soda…

…rock’n’roll…

…baseball…

[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]

DICKIE: I bumped into an old friend from Princeton…

[TYPING ON TYPEWRITER]

…a fellow called Tom Ripley.

He says he’s going to haunt me until I agree… to go back to New York… with him.

Afternoon.

What time is it?

Oh, God.

DICKIE: “Go back to New York with him.”

Here–

You always type your letters?

That should be two T’s.

I can’t write and I can’t spell.

It’s the privilege of a first-class education.

[CHUCKLES]

Your room’s upstairs at the back. I think Ermalinda made up the bed.

Ermalinda!

[SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

This is so good of you.

Don’t say it again.

[CHUCKLES]

Now that you’re a double agent and we’re gonna string my dad along… what if we were to buy a car with your expense money?

Okay.

Great.

Hello, Tom.

Hello.

Marge, Marge, what do you think?

Little Ciquecento with my dad’s money?

Oh, please, Dickie. You can’t even drive a car.

RIPLEY: You can’t even drive.

MARGE: What we need urgently, Tom…

…is an icebox. What do you think? Agree with me, I’ll be your friend for life.

I absolutely agree with Marge, heh.

Hmm.

Icebox. Icebox.

[CHURCH BELL TOLLING]

MARGE: So, what, is he gonna move in with you?

It’ll just be for a little while. He can be-He makes me laugh.

MARGE: Okay, darling.

DICKIE: Promise you’d say?

No, I like him.

Marge, you like everybody.

MARGE: Heh, don’t like you.

DICKIE: Then I’ll go to your place and you can move in with Tom.

RIPLEY [AS MARGE]: I like him.

[AS DICKIE] Marge, you like everybody.

[AS MARGE] No, I like him.

[AS DICKIE] Marge, you like everybody.

DICKIE: Now you’ll find out why Ms. Sherwood always shows up for breakfast, Tom.

It’s not love. It’s my coffee machine.

MARGE: Ever since Ermalinda showed him how to make his own espresso…

…he feels like quite the grownup.

DICKIE: I bought the coffee machine.

MARGE: Oh, darling, is that for me?

DICKIE: This is for Tom because he didn’t complain.

RIPLEY: That ring is superb.

MARGE: Ah!

Oh, Tom, I love you. See?

I had to promise, capital P, never to take it off.

Otherwise, I’d give it to you.

Isn’t it great? I found it in Naples.

I had to bargain for it for about two weeks.

I hope it wasn’t cheap, Marge.

Oh, it was.

Heh.

I have to get a birthday present for Frances, so perhaps you could help me.

Who’s Francis?

My fiancée.

[DICKIE CLEARS THROAT]

Engaged? You’re a dark horse, Ripley.

Who is she?

Your parents met her.

Oh, God. Oh, I can just imagine.

“If only Dickie would settle down. Doesn’t every parent deserve a grandchild?”

Oh, God. Never. Never.

I swear on your ring, Marge, I’m never going back.

RIPLEY: Say when to pull.

DICKIE: Pull now. Pull.

It’s not pulling. I’m doing it wrong.

DICKIE: Oh.

MARGE: Heh.

[DICKIE GRUNTS]

DICKIE: Better now, huh?

Okay, okay, okay.

We’ll make a sailor of you yet.

You’re doing really well.

All right. Bar’s open.

Yes, please.

Hey, can we sail to Venice?

Sure. I love Venice.

“See Venice and die.” Isn’t that right? Or is it Rome?

Is it Rome?

I have to see Venice.

You do something and die, don’t you? Okay. Venice is on the list.

And Rome, heh.

Do you ski?

[RIPLEY & DICKIE CHUCKLE]

No, no. Don’t tell me.

You’re a lost cause. That’s the next thing to deal with.

Christmas, we’re planning a skiing trip to Cortina.

Excellent skiing. Excellent. Marge. Margie.

MARGE: Yes?

Unbelievable. Tom can’t ski either.

We’ll have to teach him that too.

Thank you.

Grazie.

DICKIE: Such low class, Marge. Does this guy know anything?

Good thing we’re not getting married soon.

We’d have to invite Tom on our honeymoon.

MARGE: Oh, l hated New York. That whole Park Avenue crowd.

So I fled to Paris to work on my book.

And I was always going to this café in Montmartre…

…with Jean-Jacques.

And Dickie would play “My Funny Valentine.”

It was only later that I found out he only knows about six songs, heh.

Anyway, I looked forward to seeing him, I suppose.

[ALL SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

ALL: Oh!

Hey, hey, Signor Greenleaf!

You’re not at my place by 7:00, Tom and I are running off together.

Okay, fine.

MAN: Oh, Dickie!

[SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

[BOTH LAUGHING]

Oh, hold on. Hold on.

[SINGING] Silvana, Silvana You make me smile

I need to talk to you.

Smile.

[DICKIE SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

You’re breaking my ribs!

What?

DICKIE: You’re breaking my ribs!

[BAND PLAYING “MY FUNNY VALENTINE”]

[SINGING AS CHET BAKER] But don’t change a hair for me

Not if you care for me

Stay, little Valentine

Stay

Each day is Valentine’s

Day

[MOANS]

I could fuck this icebox, I love it so much.

So, what did you actually do in New York?

Played piano in a few places. I told you.

DICKIE: Well, that’s one job. You told me a lot of jobs.

Few places. That’s a few jobs.

The mysterious Mr.Ripley.

Marge and I spent hours speculating.

Anyway, I don’t even want to think about New York.

Are you ready?

Mm. Hmm?

Cold beer. Thank you, Dad. Hmm.

Okay.

Copy out from here.

You bring this with you to Europe?

Heh, you gonna write something?

DICKIE: I love the fact that you brought Shakespeare with you but no clothes.

Ermalinda says you wash out the same shirt every night. Is that true?

No. I have more than one shirt.

She can do that for you.

Anyway, just wear some of my stuff.

Wear anything you want. Most of it’s ancient.

Now your signature.

Not “Dickie.” Your signature.

Without the glasses, you’re not even ugly.

I don’t need them because I never read.

How do I look?

Like Clark Kent.

[BOTH CHUKLE]

Now Superman.

Superman.

DICKIE: Hmm?

Okay.

Tsk, tsk.

I know. It’s like a kid’s.

RIPLEY: See this, the S and the T? Fine, vulnerable.

That’s pain. That’s secret pain.

Well, it must be a very deep secret because I don’t know about it, hmm.

There’s nothing more naked than your handwriting.

See how nothing’s quite touching the line?

That’s vanity.

Well, we certainly know that’s true.

DICKIE: Do you have any brothers?

RIPLEY: No.

No brothers, no sisters.

DICKIE: Me neither.

Nor does Marge.

All only children.

RIPLEY: What does that mean?

It means we’ve never shared a bath.

And I’m cold. Can I get in?

No.

I didn’t mean with you in it.

DICKIE: Okay.

Get in. I’m like a prune anyway.

[CHUKLES]

It is me. It’s an old picture.

Every time! “Is it you? It doesn’t look like you.” God!

Letters-Greenleaf and for Ripley.

Fran. “I miss you. When are you coming home?

[DICKIE GIBBERING]

Stop telling me what an incredible time you’re having.

How much you love Dickie, heh.

And Marge and Mongibello.”

And this one, I think, is from your father.

[DICKIE SCATTING]

Let me see it. What does he say?

RIPLEY: He’s getting impatient.

He wants me to reassure him that you’re going to be home by Thanksgiving.

You’ve got to get a new jacket. Really.

You must be sick of wearing the same clothes.

I can’t. I can’t keep spending your father’s money.

I love how responsible you are.

My dad should make you chief accountant or something.

Or when I take over, which is never, I will.

Okay. When you take over, which is never, I’II accept.

Let me buy you a jacket. When we get to Rome, there’s a great place, Battistoni.

Battistoni.

[SINGING IN ITALIAN]

[LAUGHS]

[SINGING] We‘re taking Tom to Rome

[CHATTERI NG]

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Nice sweater.

Where do we get a carrozza for the Forum?

Can we just hire any of them?

Relax.

Relax!

It’s just there’s so much to do in a single day.

The most important question is where to eat. I hope Freddie made a reservation.

Freddie?

Freddie. Freddie Miles.

Freddie’s organizing the Cortina skiing trip.

Oh!

Oh, here he is.

[TIRES SCREECH]

[JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS]

Frederico!

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Oh, God, don’t you want to fuck every woman you see just once?

Only once?

Absolutely. Once.

Tom Ripley, Freddie Miles.

Tom.

I mean, hey, if I’m late, think what her husband’s saying.

[ALL CHUKLE]

You look gorgeous.

FREDDIE: As always.

FREDDIE: Mm.

[SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

I got us a table outside at Fabrizio’s. Tommy.

DICKIE: Outstanding. I tell you…

…I’m so cabin-crazy with Mongi.

FREDDIE: I know. I was there.

[JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS]

Tom, we gotta go to a club and meet some friends of Freddie’s.

The best thing is, if you want to be a tourist, grab a cab now…

…and I’ll meet you at the railway station.

What club?

Freddie’s arranged it with some of the skiing crowd.

Come if you want, but you wanted to go sightseeing.

I do, and then maybe get the jacket and what have you.

Dick! You gotta hear this.

[CHUKLES]

Listen, just take one of mine when we get back.

Don’t worry about it.

[MUMMERS]

Come on!

Have fun, okay?

Oh! Ha, ha.

[BOTH HUMMING]

[KNOCKS ON DOOR]

You said to make sure you didn’t miss the train. Leaves at 8:00.

[CHUKLES]

DICKIE: Have a good time.

See you, Tommy.

[MAN WHISTLES]

[MAN BLOWS WHISTLE]

[WOMAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY OVER PA]

[BING CROSBY’S “MAY I” PLAYING ON GRAMOPHONE]

[SINGING AS BING CROSBY] May I be the only one to say I

Really fell in love the day I

First set eyes on you?

DICKIE: What are you doing?

Oh, uh, I was just amusing myself.

Sorry.

I wish you’d get out of my clothes.

Do you have my shoes on too?

You said I could pick out a jacket, so–

Would you get undressed in your own room?

Thought you missed the train.

Freddie drove me back in his car.

Is Freddie here?

He’s downstairs.

I was just fooling around.

Don’t say anything. I was just fooling around.

Sorry.

FREDDIE: God. A corduroy jacket in Italy.

MARGE: Good morning, Tom.

Morning.

Heh.

Come join us.

Hey. I want this job of yours, Tommy.

I was just saying, you live in Italy…

…you, uh, stay at Dickie’s house, you eat Dickie’s food…

…you wear his clothes, and his father picks up the tab, heh.

If you get bored…

…you let me know, because I’ll do it.

Ha, ha. I’ll do it.

DICKIE: To the mainland!

You really should go in. It’s marvelous.

I’m fine.

[DICKIE & FREDDIE GRUNTING AND LAUGHING]

Are you okay?

Sure.

[DICKIE & FREDDIE CHATTERING]

The thing with Dickie–

It’s like the sun shines on you, and it’s glorious.

And then he forgets you and it’s very, very cold.

So I’m learning.

When you have his attention, you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

That’s why everybody loves him.

It’s always the same. Whenever someone new comes into his life…

…Freddie, Fausto, Peter Smith-Kingsley.

He’s wonderful. Have you met him?

Especially you.

And that’s just the boys.

Come get him! Come get him!

Tell me, why is it that when men play… they always play at killing each other?

DICKIE: He’s drowning me! He’s drowning me!

I’m sorry about Cortina, by the way.

What about Cortina?

Didn’t-Didn’t-Didn’t Dick say?

He spoke to Freddie, and-And apparently…

…it’s not going to work out.

It’s because everyone else can ski…

…and it affects where you stay, and–

DICKIE: Come on, Freddie.

At least stick around for the festival of the Madonna.

The whole town comes out-FREDDIE: I don’t think so.

I have my own Madonna back in Rome. Why don’t you come back with me?

A lot of ladies.

[BOTH CHUKLE]

Oh, God.

You want to take over?

Mm. Yeah, sure.

Just point her at Capri. Avoid the rocks.

Where are you going?

Marge maintenance.

Aye-aye.

[DICKIE & MARGE MOANING]

MARGE: Don’t.

[SCOFFS]

Dickie–

FREDDIE: Tommy.

How’s the peeping?

Tommy, how’s the peeping?

Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.

[PEOPLE SINGING IN ITALIAN]

[PEOPLE APPLAUDING AND CHEERING]

Aah, Silvana!

[PEOPLE CLAMORING]

[ALL SHOUTING]

Is someone getting an ambulance?

Is someone getting an ambulance?

[ALL CRYING]

What’s the fight about? That’s her fiancé, isn’t it?

I don’t know. Why are you asking me?

Are they blaming him?

How can it take an hour to find an ambulance?

She was already dead, darling, wasn’t she? So I suppose–

I don’t know why people say this country is civilized.

Dickie!

It isn’t. It’s fucking primitive.

I’ll go see what’s the matter.

I’ll go.

[DICKIE PLAYING “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS” ON SAXOPHONE]

RIPLEY: I know why you’re upset.

I know about Silvana, Dickie.

I know about you and Silvana.

What about us?

You don’t have to clean up! Really!

Like what?

Forget it.

She was pregnant. Did you know that?

Silvana was pregnant.

Do you know what that means in a place like this?

I’m prepared to take the blame.

What are you talking about?

You’ve been so good to me.

You’re the brother I never had. I’m the brother you never had.

I would do anything for you, Dickie.

She came to me for help.

She needed money.

[SIGHS]

I didn’t help her. I didn’t help her.

Now she’s drowned herself, and it’s my fault.

I’m not going to say anything–

To Marge, to the police or anybody.

It’s a secret between us, Dickie.

And I’ll keep it.

RIPLEY: “Dear Tom, in view of the fact Dickie shows… no more signs of coming home than before you went–” Blah, blah, blah–

Um…

“I hope that the trip has afforded you some pleasure… despite the failure of its main objective. You no longer, uh, should consider yourself obligated to us in any way.”

Can’t blame him. You could hardly expect this to go on forever, Tom.

Well, you can write again.

Especially now we’re brothers.

I can’t.

How can I, in all decency?

You said it yourself. It’s my dad’s money you’re spending.

We’ve had a great run though, haven’t we?

Well, we’ll still go to Venice. Uh, we could stick to that plan.

I don’t think so, Tom.

You can’t pay your own way, can you?

It’s time we all moved on.

I’m sick of Mongi. Especially now, with everything–

I really want to move to the north.

I need to check out San Remo next week.

Find somewhere new to keep the boat.

It would be great if you came with me to San Remo.

There’s a great jazz festival. We could say goodbye in style.

What do you think?

Our last trip!

Sure.

[MAN SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

Why do you do that thing with your neck?

Heh, what thing?

On trains, you always do that thing.

Spooky.

Spooky…

[DICKIE MIMICKING DRUMS]

Spooky.

[BAND PLAYING JAZZ MUSIC]

Oh!

Didn’t I tell you San Remo was crazy?

This is more like it! Come on!

[PEOPLE APPLAUDING AND CHEERING]

To Mongibello and the happiest days of my life.

To Mongi. You’re cheerful tonight.

I’m suddenly quite happy to be going back.

Did I know you at Princeton, Tom?

I don’t think I did, did I?

Why are you asking all of a sudden?

No reason.

Because you’re leaving, I guess. I don’t think you were there.

Why?

I mean it as a compliment.

You’ve got such great taste.

Most of the thugs at Princeton had tasted everything and had no taste.

I used to say, “The cream of America: Rich and thick.”

Freddie’s the perfect example.

Then I’ll take it as a compliment.

I knew it! I knew it.

Marge and I had a bet.

Do you even like jazz…

…or was that for my benefit?

I’ve gotten to like it.

Oh, yes!

I’ve gotten to like everything about the way you live.

It’s one big love affair.

If you knew my life back home in New York–

I’m thinking of giving up the sax.

What do you think about the drums?

What?

So cool.

I’m gonna rent a boat tomorrow, take a look around.

This is how I found my place in Mongi.

Took a boat out…

…around the bay…

…first thing I liked…

…I got it.

[BOAT ENGINE REVIVING]

DICKIE: Whoa!

RIPLEY: Come on, Dickie. Don’t go crazy.

[DICKIE LAUGHING]

Dickie. Slow down!

Hold on.

Wait a minute! It’s gonna tip! Oh, God!

Whoo. Whoo.

No, it’s not funny, it’s not funny, it’s not funny! Stop it!

Beautiful! Whoo!

Oh, I love it here!

I love it here! I’m gonna move here!

Beautiful.

[DICKIE MIMICKING DRUMS]

I want to tell you my plan.

So tell me.

Ouch. Well, I thought…

…I’d come back in the new year under my own steam.

Really? To Italy?

Of course.

And I figured-Now, just for argument’s sake…

…say I got a place.

Or say we split the rent on a house. I could get a job, or better still…

…if I got a place in Rome, and then when we’re there, we could be there.

And when we’re here, we could be here.

Uh, I don’t think so.

See, particularly with the Marge problem.

You just blame me.

Marge and I are getting married.

How?

How?

Yesterday, you’re ogling girls on the terrace.

Today you’re getting married? That’s absurd.

I love Marge.

You love me. You’re not marrying me.

Tom, I don’t love you.

No, I don’t mean that as a threat.

To be honest, I’m a little relieved you’re going.

I think we’ve seen enough of each other for a while.

What?

You can be a leech!

You know that!

And…

…it’s boring.

You can be quite boring.

The funny thing is, I’m not pretending to be somebody else, and you are.

Boring.

I’ve been absolutely honest with you… about my feelings.

Boring.

But you-First of all, I know there’s something.

That evening, when we played chess, for instance, it was obvious.

What evening?

Oh, sure. No, no.

It’s too dangerous for you to take on. Oh, no, no. We’re brothers.

Hey. And then you do this sordid thing with Marge, fucking her… on the boat, while we all have to listen, which was excruciating.

[CHUKLES]

You follow your cock around like a-And now you’re getting married.

No, I’m bewildered. Forgive me.

You’re lying to Marge, then getting married to her.

You’re knocking up Silvana. You’re ruining everybody-You want to play the sax.

You want to play the drums. Which is it, Dickie? What do you actually play?

[DICKIE GRUNTS]

Who are you? Some third-class mooch? Who are you?

Who are you to say anything to me?

Who are you to tell me anything?

Actually, I really, really do not want to be on this boat with you.

I can’t move without you moving.

Shut up.

Shut up.

It gives me the creeps. You give me the creeps.

Shut up.

I can’t move without “Dickie!”

Like a little girl all the time.

Shut up!

[DICKIE GRUNTS]

Oh, God, Dickie.

God’s sake.

Oh, God!

Okay. Okay.

We have to get you-Okay–

[DICKIE SHOUTS]

I’m gonna kill you! Kill you!

[BOTH GRUNTING]

You’re dead!

You’re dead!

Stop! Stop! Please, Dickie! Please!

Stop it!

Stop!

Dickie, let go!

I’ll kill you!

Stop it!

Stop! Stop! Stop!

Stop! Stop! Stop!

[PANTING]

[SHIVERING]

[HORN HONKS]

Hi. Can I have my key, please?

Of course.

You must be very cold. Uh, Signor Greenleaf, yes?

No. I’m–

[BREATHING HEAVILY]

[TYPING ON TYPEWRITER]

RIPLEY: Hello, Marge.

[GASPS THEN SCREAMS]

Tom! Heh.

You startled me! Heh.

Sorry. How are you?

You’re back!

Your book going well?

Yes.

I’m on a good streak, thank you.

I was just looking at you. So quiet.

[CHUKLES]

Where’s Dickie?

I think he’s planning on staying in Rome for a few days.

Rome? Did he say why?

I don’t understand Dickie. Your guess is as good as mine.

Well, what does that mean?

Oh, one day I’m invited skiing, the next day I’m not.

One day, we’re one family, then the next day he wants to be alone.

You tell me.

Is that what he said?

He wants to be alone?

He was thinking of you. He asked me to deliver this.

Thank you, heh.

He knows I love this.

But why it couldn’t have waited, I–

Errand number one:

Deliver Marge’s perfume.

Errand number two, um:

Pack some clothes and his precious saxophone.

How long is he staying for?

Search me. I guess we’re abandoned, heh.

MARGE: Oh, damn it!

Are you okay?

There was a letter from Dickie in with my perfume.

You realize it’s more than just a few days.

He’s thinking of moving to Rome.

[SOBBING]

The thing is, the night before he left, we–

We talked about moving together…

…somewhere north, and I suppose I…

…put some pressure on him about getting married.

I just…

I just might have scared him off.

There’s a side to him…

…when our heads are on the pillow…

…I know no one else sees, that’s so tender.

I think I should come with you to Rome and confront him.

He hates being confronted.

I think you’re right.

RIPLEY: Checking in.

RIPLEY: Checking in.

Signor Ripley?

It’s me.

Signor Greenleaf.

Of course. Welcome back.

Thank you.

[LINE RINGING]

Yes, I’d like to telephone the Hotel Goldoni.

L want to speak to Thomas Ripley.

WOMAN [OVER PHONE]: Ripley?

Yes.

[TELEPHONE RINGS]

WOMAN [OVER PHONE]: Signor Greenleaf, Signor Ripley’s not there.

He’s not there?

WOMAN [OVER PHONE]: No, signor.

Well, I would like to leave a message.

He’s not there?

I’ll leave a message.

MAN [OVER PHONE]: No, signor.

Got your call.

MAN [OVER PHONE]: Got your call.

Dinner tonight…

Dinner tonight…

…sounds fine.

…sounds fine.

Ripley. Ripley.

Ripley.

Dickie Greenleaf.

WOMAN [OVER PHONE]: Dickie Greenleaf.

Yes. Greenleaf.

Greenleaf.

At the Grand.

RIPLEY: And I’d like to have this wallet embossed.

I don’t know the word in Italian.

Embossed. Of course, Signor Greenleaf.

Thank you.

Dickie! Uh-It’s–

Oh, my gosh.

Meredith.

Come in, come in.

But you’re going skiing with those Yankees, aren’t you, heh?

What?

At Christmas. To Cortina.

With Freddie Miles.

How d id you know that?

Oh, heh. Everybody knows Freddie Miles.

Is Freddie in Rome?

Now?

Yeah.

Oh, I don’t think so.

But I-But I’ve met him, of course, and we’ve chatted.

And I know about you…

…and Marge in Mongi.

What an unreliable rat you are.

Well, Freddie said you were a rat.

And I thought to myself:

“Now I know why he travels under R.”

I’ve left Marge, Meredith.

And Mongi.

So the rat’s here in Rome.

Oh, I’m sorry.

Oh, don’t be sorry.

I was making a joke.

I’ve never been happier.

I-I feel like I’ve been handed a new life.

The truth is that if you’ve had money your entire life…

…either you despise it, which we do-Agreed?

You’re only truly comfortable around other people…

…who have it and despise it.

I know.

I’ve never admitted that to anyone.

M ERED ITH: Because my friend Mr.Greenleaf, Signor Greenleaf and l…

-…are on a little spending spree.

I see.

We’re behaving very badly.

Oh, I love Italian money. So dark. Doesn’t make you feel guilty.

Grazie.

Thank you.

I don’t want too many large bills. No one will change them.

[MAN SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[MAN SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

I really like this too.

I think I’m having that too.

[ALL SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Tomorrow, heh.

Oop.

I know you’re a jazz fiend, but do you absolutely hate the opera?

I’ve-I’ve…

…been trying to give my tickets away.

It’s tomorrow. But if you were prepared to be dragged…

You could drag me.

[MAN SINGING OPERA]

[GUNSHOT]

[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]

Feodor Chaliapin. It’s the whole Russian baritone.

Thank you so much for inviting me tonight.

[PEOPLE CHATTERING]

Can you bear it? We hear you are a friend of Freddie’s.

He has “I hate opera” tattooed on his chest, heh.

There’s room for a whole libretto on Freddie’s chest.

[JOAN LAUGHS]

I’m sure we’ve met before, heh.

I was sure we’d met before. Weren’t you, Ted?

Dick is Herbert Greenleaf’s boy.

TED: I know.

Yes, I think we have.

One minute you people are children, and the next you’re getting tattooed.

[JOAN & MEREDITH CHUKLE]

Cheers, heh.

Cheers.

Cheers.

Excuse me.

Oh. Excuse me.

Hello.

Hello.

Tom!

Marge!

How are you? What are you doing in Rome?

Is he here? Are you with Dickie?

No. Um, no.

Um, hello. I’m Tom Ripley.

Peter Smith-Kingsley. I’ve heard about you from Marge and Dickie.

Ditto.

No-No glasses.

Where are you hiding him? He’s impossible, isn’t he?

Is he really not here?

Marge, you know Dickie has “I hate opera” tattooed on his chest, heh.

I thought you were going to Venice.

PETER: What happened with that?

I heard you were desperate to come.

I was looking forward to rowing you around.

[TELEPHONE RINGING]

I am. I really am.

I’ve been traveling, and I just can’t seem to get that far north.

You should hurry, before we sink.

Look, let me give you the telephone number.

There. Oh, look. There’s Meredith.

Meredith. What’s her name, Marge? The textile people.

Um, come on. It’s awful, I spent Christmas at her house.

I don’t know her.

He hasn’t called. He’s hardly written.

Oh.

Just these cryptic notes, you know?

You don’t just dump people.

Look, will we see you later, or are you with people?

Oh. I can’t later.

Well, how about tomorrow?

Yes, maybe in the morning?

Um, do you know Cafe Dinelli at the Piazza di Spagna?

I know the Piazza di Spagna. What time? -10:30?

We’ll be there.

Okay.

So I’ll see you in the morning, Marge?

Ten-thirty? Very nice to meet you.

PETER: And you.

Come on.

Come on. Let’s go back in.

MARGE: I don’t understand why Tom’s still in Rome.

Let’s go.

Oh, I thought you were enjoying yourself.

Let’s take a carrozza and look at the moon.

Are you crazy? It’s freezing out there.

Come on. I need to talk to you. Just the two of us.

Okay.

MEREDITH: Oh, don’t worry, please.

Don’t worry.

You’re such a pal to understand. I–

It’s like Marge is here right now. I look at you and I see her face.

And I can’t-No matter what I’m feeling towards you–

No. I absolutely understand. Of c–

Otherwise, you’d be fighting me off.

Beating you away, heh.

But will you meet me tomorrow?

Just to say goodbye properly, you know, in the daylight…

…so it’s not just this.

Of course. Meredith, I’m sorry. Of course I’ll meet you.

You should always save pain for daylight.

Why don’t we have coffee in the morning at Dinelli’s?

Oh, uh, by the Spanish steps.

Exactly. 10:30?

Ten-fifteen.

Okay.

Okay.

[PEOPLE CHATTERING IN ITALIAN]

Peter?

Hello. It’s Meredith Logue.

PETER: Of course it is. Meredith, hello. Sorry.

I was half asleep. How are you?

How are you?

This is Marge Sherwood. Meredith Logue.

How do you do?

Do join us, won’t you? We were just waiting for a friend.

I won’t, actually. I think there’s–

Did we see you at the opera last night?

Uh, are you waiting for Dickie?

Dickie? Do you–? Do you–? Do you know Dickie?

You were at the opera. Oh, that explains-Yes, I was there.

I was there with Dickie.

[SIGHS]

I knew it.

I told you.

Marge, I don’t know you, so I’ve got no right to–

Dickie loves you. He’s-Well–

I think you’ll find he’s on his way home to you.

Well, how–? How–? How would you know that?

He told me everything.

No, I was supposed to meet him 15 minutes ago, so…

I’m gonna go now, I think.

God, unless he meant us to meet.

That’d be a little cruel, heh, wouldn’t it?

PETER: No, no, we’re meeting another friend.

Tom Ripley.

Do you know Tom Ripley?

No, no. I’ve heard about him, of course, but I didn’t meet him, no.

[MAN SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Not for me. No.

Hope I didn’t complicate matters.

God, nothing, nothing untoward happened.

No, there is nothing to prevent you from welcoming him back…

…from marrying him.

Goodbye. I’m happy to put a face to a name.

Goodbye, Peter. Please, don’t get up.

Now I don’t know what to think. Do you think he’s coming back?

Sorry. Sorry. Had to renew my papers.

Never one stamp when they can make you line up for three.

You been waiting long?

Not at all.

Morning, Tom.

Hi. Sorry.

You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

Dickie was at the opera last night.

I don’t believe that. Wild horses couldn’t drag Dickie–

Well, he was there with someone, you know, so I suppose she must have dragged him.

It’s not fair.

I think I’m going back to Mongi. I think Dickie’s coming home. I’m going home.

Really? I-Well, that’s just swell. Well, I-I–

No, you’re way ahead of me. Great.

That was rather moving when Mere-I’m sorry.

Meredith is the American girl I saw at the opera last night.

She’s been seeing something of Dickie.

Oh, my God.

But the point is, Dickie-And we all know this.

Dickie loves Marge. And he misses her.

I feel guilty. Marge doesn’t understand this…

…but whenever Dickie does something, I feel guilty, heh.

As if that makes sense.

[BOTH SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[RIPLEY PLAYING PIANO]

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

FREDDIE: Dickie.

Dickie, come on. It’s me.

It’s Freddie. Let me in.

Dickie.

[RIPLEY BREATHING HEAVILY]

Hello, Freddie. It’s Tom.

Um…

Where’s Dickie?

How are you?

I’m good. Uh, yes, thank you. He’s gone. He went to dinner.

Um, he’s at Otello’s. Do you know Otello’s?

No, no, no.

I don’t think he’s at dinner at 6:30 p.m.

If you said he was still at lunch, maybe I’d believe you.

You know? Heh, incredible.

Heh.

I mean, the guy just, you know, disappeared off the face of the earth.

I guess, heh.

The landlady, as far as I could tell–

The landlady, uh, said he was here right now.

Search the place.

I just don’t-I don’t know why you’d imagine that Dickie would hide from you.

Because he’s been hiding from me.

What happened at Christmas?

What about Christmas?

He was supposed to come skiing. I didn’t get a cable…

…or a call or a little note or a–

Frankly, a fart.

Unh.

Well, he’s been very involved with his music.

Um, I think his theory is…

…that you have to go into a cocoon before you can be a butterfly.

Which is horseshit.

You hear him play this thing? Well, he can’t.

How did you find him?

It’s such an out-of-the-way apartment. Can I fix you a drink?

No, thanks. At the American Express.

Some kid.

Are you living here?

No, no. I’m staying here for a few days.

But–

It’s a new piano. Probably shouldn’t–

Probably shouldn’t–

Did this place come furnished?

It doesn’t look like Dickie’s–

It’s really horrible, heh, isn’t it?

It’s so, uh, bourgeois.

Oh, that’s a-You should-Watch that.

Excuse-Excuse me.

Excuse me.

In fact, the only thing that looks like Dickie…

…is you.

Hardly.

Hmm.

Have you done something to your hair?

Is there something you’d like to say, Freddie?

What?

Do you have something you’d like to say?

I think I’m saying it.

Something’s going on.

Either he’s converted to Christianity…

…or there’s something else.

Well, I would suggest you ask Dickie that yourself.

Otello’s is on Della Croce just off the Corso.

Is it on Della Croce just off the Corso?

You’re a, heh, quick study, aren’t you?

Last time you didn’t know your ass from your elbow. Now you’re giving me directions.

That’s not fair. You probably do know your ass from your elbow.

I’ll see you.

[WOMAN SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Uh, no Dickie Greenleaf. Thomas Ripley.

Dickie doesn’t play the piano.

FREDDIE: Tommy.

Tommy!

Tommy!

[BOTH GRUNTING]

[RIPLEY GRUNTING]

[MAN & WOMAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

Oh, heh, you’re making me laugh.

No. You’re just so drunk. Ugh, you’re just…

What can you do, huh? You should see my other friends.

What can you do?

Yes. Such a pig.

[GRUNTS]

[CHUCKLES]

[MAN SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

[AS FREDDIE] Hey, if I’m drunk, think what her husband’s saying.

[BOTH CHUKLE]

[GRUNTING]

[GRUNTING]

[SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

Dickie Greenleaf?

Yes.

Inspector Roverini.

Can we come in?

Please.

It’s a terrible shock, huh?

What time did Signor Miles leave yesterday?

Uh, um, I can’t be certain exactly. I–

Eight-Nine.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

We’d both taken on, uh, far too many drinks.

Uh-huh.

But it was dark. It was certainly dark when I-When I walked him to his car.

So he drove away, and you did what?

I went to bed.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Freddie’s a big man, but I’m in trouble after a couple of drinks.

I’ve been suffering all–

Who found him?

[SPEAKS ITALIAN]

You understand, I must ask you to stay in Rome, Signor Greenleaf.

Yes, if it’s gonna help, certainly.

So, the doctor, he has to make the, um…

[BOTH SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Postmortem.

Yeah, exactly.

But, you know, his first conclusion…

…was that Signor Miles was killed not later than 7:00 yesterday evening.

Well, he certainly wasn’t dead when he drove away in his car.

No.

[ALL CHATTERING]

[GRUNTS THEN TIRES SCREECH]

[WOMAN SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

MAN: It’s okay.

Okay?

Did he kill Freddie?

Marge. When did you get here?

Tell me the truth. Did he kill Freddie?

I’d swear he didn’t. Of course he didn’t.

[MARGE SIGHS]

I tried again. Waiting here, watching for him.

Instead, it’s you. Whenever I look for Dickie, I find you.

What happened to your face?

Dickie-Dickie did it.

Dickie?

My face. There was an argument.

I-I said some things I shouldn’t have said and–

About you. About the appalling way he’s treating all of us.

The next thing I know, he’s launched himself at me.

Are you getting on?

What?

Get on. I’ll take you to him.

[ENGINE REVS]

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Where does he live?

We passed it a few blocks back.

It’s where the police were. The Palazzo Gioia.

Look, they don’t even know I’m in Rome, and I’m not gonna incriminate Dickie.

Perhaps I shouldn’t go either.

No, no. Go if you want to, but just don’t talk to the police about my face.

If they know he hit me and his temper, then he could’ve hit Freddie.

I’ll catch up with you later.

[WOMAN SPEAKING ITALIAN]

It’s Signor Greenleaf!

[REPORTERS SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING]

RIPLEY: Open the door!

Open up!

I live here!

Mr.Greenleaf!

Can we go up? Do you mind?

Of course. What happened to your face?

My scooter. I fell off getting chased by photographers.

The telephone, the press, I’ve been-I’m feeling hounded.

Do you think you could not give out my address?

Never. We’ve had many requests and, of course, we say no, even to your fiancée.

I really don’t want to see anybody.

ROVERINI: Even your fiancée?

Even her.

[MAN SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

ROVERINI: What about Thomas Ripley?

What about Tom Ripley?

You and Signor Ripley went to San Remo, right?

Yes, we-We went to San Remo. That was months ago.

November, I thought.

Was it?

Did you speak to Tom?

November 7th is my information.

RIPLEY: I don’t remember the exact date.

When did you last see Signor Ripley?

RIPLEY: A few days ago.

ROVERINI: Does he stay with you here?

No.

ROVERINI: No.

Here is a pattern. Two days ago…

…Freddie Miles is dead, hmm?

He leaves your apartment…

…and he’s murdered.

Yesterday, a little boat is found in San Remo full of rocks.

And the owner tells the police it was stolen on November 7th.

We look at hotel records…

…and we see…

…Dickie Greenleaf is staying in San Remo.

And then our boatman remembers two Americans taking a boat.

That is not a pattern. That’s a coincidence.

There must be 50 hotels in San Remo.

There were probably a hundred people renting a boat that day.

Thirty-one people.

Thirty-one people.

Hmm.

Thirty-one, yeah.

[SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

Marge Sherwood.

That is Miss Sherwood now.

[SCOFFS]

Let her in.

Let her in. Heh, what’s the difference? Let her in.

No! Uh, actually-Actually, no.

I would-I would really appreciate it…

…if you would ask Miss Sherwood to come back later.

Uh-huh.

[SPEAKS IN ITALIAN]

Thank you.

ROVERINI: May I ask you…

…why would you speak to your friend and not your fiancée?

Well, I-I think I just said. Um…

Mr.Ripley was handling some business for me.

Nor does Mr.Ripley want to marry me…

…and ask me every single day if I’ll marry him and when.

Do you keep a photograph of Signor Ripley?

I’m not in the habit of carrying around photographs of my male friends.

Now I think I’ve upset you.

Sorry. My English, perhaps, is coarse.

It is a little coarse, heh, yes.

I’m sorry.

[CHUKLES]

But you-No one has seen Signor Ripley since San Remo.

I have.

You have, yes.

And so has Miss Sherwood. Ask her. And, um…

If I can remember the name of the hotel he was staying at, um…

Uh, The Goldoni. Tom was staying at the Goldoni.

Goldoni. The Goldoni. Good, good, but–

Yes, you are right.

You are right. A coincidence.

I look forward to our next meeting, hmm?

When I will be more careful with my English.

Ah, I have a witness who thinks they saw two men…

…getting into Mr.Miles’ car.

And she wants to identify you in a confronto.

Lineup. Tomorrow, then?

Uh, tomorrow.

[CHUKLES]

[ROVERINI & MARGE SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

ROVERINI: He’s in, but I really don’t think he wants to meet anybody.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

Dick?

Dickie?

I know you can hear me.

[SIGHS]

I was gonna say I would count to three, and if you didn’t open the door–

But, heh, I won’t count anymore.

On you.

[WHIMPERING]

I won’t count on you anymore.

Whatever it is you’ve done or haven’t done…

…you’ve broken my heart.

That’s one thing I know you’re guilty of.

And I don’t know why.

[CRYING]

I don’t know why. I just don’t know why.

[FOOTSTEPS RETREATING]

[TYPING ON TYPEWRITER]

RIPLEY: My dear Tom…

…I’m getting out of this.

Freddie‘s death. Silvana.

I’ve thought about going to the police, but I can‘t do it.

l can’t face it.

I can’t face anything anymore.

I wish I could give you the life I took for granted.

You’ve always understood what’s at the heart of me, Tom.

Marge never could.

I suppose that’s why I’m writing this to you…

…the brother I never had.

The only true friend I ever had.

ln all kinds of ways…

…you’re much more like the son my father wanted.

I realize you can change the people, change the scenery…

…but you can’t change your own rotten self.

Now I can’t think what to do or where to go.

I’m haunted by everything I’ve done and can’t undo.

I’m sorry.

I’ve made a mess of being Dickie Greenleaf, haven‘t I?

[PEOPLE CHATTERING]

PETER: Tom!

I’ll see you over there!

I’m so sorry to put you through this, Peter.

I just can’t face going to the police by myself when my Italian’s so rotten.

Don’t be so daft. It’s fine.

I’m delighted you finally made it to Venice.

I’m delighted, contrary to rumor, that you’re still in one piece.

What rumor?

Oh, you know.

That Dickie murdered you and is traveling under your passport.

[CHUKLES]

I know. It’s ridiculous.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Welcome to Venice.

God, this place reeks, doesn’t it? Can you smell it?

Anyway, I’ve got to the bottom of the delay, finally.

We’re waiting for someone from Rome.

What do you mean? They’ve sent for someone from Rome?

Heh, yes. That’s good, isn’t it?

No, I thought…

…that didn’t happen in Italy, that each region is separate.

I was sure that-I’ve read that–

You’ve read the papers. You know what a big deal it’s been.

American tourist murdered.

RIPLEY: Actually, can we not do this now?

The stench really is–

[MAN SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[MEN SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

He’s taken over the case, um, because they’re annoyed that the previous chap…

…let Dickie disappear when he was, uh, the only suspect in Freddie’s murder.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

In Rome, about three weeks ago.

I knew that one, heh.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Are you a homosexual? Interesting non sequitur.

No.

No.

By the way, um, officially there are no Italian homosexuals.

Makes Michelangelo and Leonardo very inconvenient.

Huh?

Tell him I have a fiancée.

And Dickie has a fiancée.

And that Freddie Miles probably had a string of them.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[ALL CHUCKLING]

What did he say?

He says “so many fiancées.”

PETER: He’s asking if you killed Freddie Miles…

-…and then killed Dickie Greenleaf.

No!

No, I did not kill Freddie Miles and then kill Dickie Greenleaf. Is he accusing me?

Are you? Ask him.

PETER: The way it works here…

-…it’s better to be less volatile.

But it’s absurd.

They found this in Dickie’s place in Rome.

You opened this?

Of course.

It’s a suicide note.

You asked me all these questions and you already read this suicide note?

PETER: I don’t believe that letter. Do you?

Dickie’s letter. Do you believe it?

I don’t know what to believe.

Can you imagine, though, if he did kill Freddie, what that must be like?

Just to wake up every morning. I mean, how can you?

Just wake up and be a person? Drink your coffee.

Well, whatever you do, however terrible, however hurtful…

…it all makes sense, doesn’t it, in your head.

You never meet anybody who thinks they’re a bad person, heh.

No, I know, but you’re still tormented. You must be. You’ve killed someone.

Don’t you just take the past and put it in a room in the basement…

…and lock the door and never go in there?

[BOTH CHUKLE]

That’s what I do.

God, yes.

But, of course, in my case, it’s probably a whole building.

And then you meet someone special…

…and all you want to do is toss them the key.

Say “Open up. Step inside.”

But you can’t.

Because it’s dark…

…and there are demons.

And if anybody saw how ugly it is…

Now that’s the music talking.

It’s harder to be bleak if you’re playing “Knees Up, Mother Brown.”

[BOTH CHUKLE]

I keep wanting to do that.

Fling the door open.

Just let the light in, clean everything out.

If I could take a giant eraser and rub out everything, heh…

…starting with myself…

The thing is, Peter, if…

[CHUKLES]

If–

If–

No.

[CHUKLES]

No key, huh?

[BOY SINGING IN ITALIAN]

Marge.

Peter, heh.

So good to see you.

Hello, Marge.

Tom.

I see you found Peter.

I think we sort of found each other.

Where’s Dickie’s father?

He’s not coming till the morning.

Evidently his stomach.

Heh.

I don’t think the food here is agreeing with him.

Oh, I was looking forward to seeing him.

Dickie hasn’t killed himself. I’m sure of that.

There’s a private detective on the case now.

A Mr.MacCarron Dickie’s father’s employed.

That’s a terrific idea.

He’s American.

He’s already discovered that Dickie cashed checks for $ 1000…

…the day before he disappeared.

Is that what you do before you jump into the Tiber?

I don’t think so.

Is this you?

No, it’s Tom’s.

Splendid, eh?

Golly. Who’s paying for this?

Peter found it for me.

[DOOR CLOSES]

PETER: I can afford it because it’s damp and…

And falling down.

[RIPLEY CHUKLES]

Tom’s transformed it.

MARGE: This is spectacular.

That’s why Tom wanted you to stay.

It’s better than trying to squeeze into my room, heh.

And I know how you hate hotels.

A hotel would have been fine.

We’ll have to tell Mr. Greenleaf how far his dollar stretched.

[CHUKLES]

What’s funny?

I was just thinking about when Tom first came to Mongibello.

And look at you now.

Look at me what?

To the manor born.

RIPLEY: Mr. Greenleaf?

Mr. Greenleaf?

Tom. How are you? You look well.

Thank you, sir. I am well.

Far cry from New York.

RIPLEY: Yes, it is.

Marge.

Good morning. Unusual weather.

Very.

And you, sir. Any better?

Pretty good. Sticking with hot water.

Where’s Mr. MacCarron?

San Remo.

The police are amateurs.

Well, my boy, it’s come to a pretty pass, hasn’t it?

What is the detective hoping to find in San Remo?

He’s being thorough.

I’m learning about my son, Tom.

Now he’s missing, I’m learning a great deal about him…

…and I hope that you can fill in some more blanks for me.

Marge has been good enough to do that about Mongibello.

I’ll try my best, sir. Obviously, I’ll do anything to help Dickie.

GREENLEAF: Good. This theory…

…the letter he left for you.

The police think that’s a clear indication he was planning on doing something…

…uh, to himself.

Oh, I just don’t believe that.

You don’t want to, dear.

I’d like to talk to Tom alone.

Perhaps this afternoon. Would you mind?

Marge, what a man may say to his sweetheart…

…and what he’ll admit to another fellow…

Such as?

[COUGHS]

What a waste of lives and opportunities.

I’d pay that fellow $ 100 right now to shut up!

No, Marge doesn’t know the half of it.

And his passport photo.

Did you hear? To scratch out his own face like that?

Can you imagine?

Frame of mind you’d have to be in?

“I’ve thought about going to the police, but I can’t face it. I can’t face anything anymore.”

I feel guilty. I feel like I pushed him away. I feel like I spoke and he heard you.

Well…

[CLEARS THROAT]

…if we all pushed him away, what about him pushing us away?

You’ve been a great friend to my son.

Everything is someone else’s fault.

We all want to sow wild oats…

…but somebody’s got to-Got to, um…

What is the word?

You know, the moment someone confronts him…

…he lashes out.

He always has.

You know, people always say that you can’t choose your parents…

…but you can’t choose your children.

[KNOCKI NG ON DOOR]

MAN: Dickie.

DICKIE: You can be a leech. You can be quite boring.

RIPLEY: Stop it!

DICKIE: Boring. It’s boring.

Who are you? Who are you?

RIPLEY: Stop it!

MAN: Dickie.

DICKIE: Who are you?

FREDD I E: Tommy, Tommy.

RIPLEY: Stop, stop, stop!

DICKIE: Who are you?

RIPLEY: Dickie. Dickie.

-Stop, stop, stop!

FREDDIE: Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.

DICKIE: Like a little girl.

-Like a little girl.

RIPLEY: Stop!

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

RIPLEY: Coming.

Sorry. I was asleep.

PETER: Finally.

I must have fallen asleep.

Did Dickie’s dad go?

You look ghastly. Did you have a nightmare?

He’s having an early night.

MARGE: Oh, poor man.

You know, we were banging on that door forever.

U h-oh, I think I’ve broken a strap.

PETER: Not guilty, heh.

I’ll fix some drinks.

[MARGE CHUKLES]

Ah, you walk in Venice.

Are you okay?

RIPLEY: I’m fine.

Did you want me to stick around?

No, it’s okay.

I could come back.

Your key.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

MARGE: Tom?

Marge, I’m in the bath. I won’t be long.

MARGE: Tom, I have to speak to you. It’s urgent.

Coming.

I found Dickie’s rings.

What?

You have Dickie’s rings.

I can explain.

Dickie promised he would never take off this ring.

Let me put some clothes on.

I have to tell Mr. Greenleaf.

I have to tell Mr. Greenleaf.

You’re being hysterical.

He promised me, “I swear, I will never take off this ring–“

Shut up!

Aah!

I’m wet, Marge. I’ve lost my towel.

And I’d really like to put some clothes on.

Go and pour us both a drink.

Pour us a drink.

Marge?

Where are you going?

I wasn’t snooping. I just…

I was looking for a needle and thread to mend my bra.

That scent you’re wearing…

…I bought that for you.

The thing about Dickie–

So many things.

That day when he was late coming back from Rome…

…I tried to tell you this.

He was with another girl. I’m not talking about Meredith, either.

Another girl that we met in a bar.

He couldn’t be faithful for five minutes.

So when he makes a promise…

…it doesn’t mean what it means when you make a promise or I make a promise.

He has so many realities, Dickie, and he believes them all.

He lies. He lies.

And that’s his-Half the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

And today…

…I really started wondering whether he may have killed Freddie.

He would get so crazy if anybody would contradict him.

Well, you know that. You know that.

You know that.

And that’s the irony, Marge.

I loved you.

You may as well know, Marge. I loved you.

Maybe it’s grotesque of me to say this now…

…so just write it on a piece of paper or something…

…and put it in your purse for a rainy day.

“Tom loves me.

Tom loves me.”

Why do you have Dickie’s rings?

RIPLEY: I told you.

He gave them to me.

Why? When?

I feel as if you haven’t been listening to anything I’ve been saying.

I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you.

It’s all true.

I don’t believe…

…a single word you’ve said.

[GASPS AND SHIVERING]

You’re shivering, Marge. Look at you.

Marge, can I hold you?

Will you let me hold you?

[GASPS THEN SCREAMS]

PETER: Marge?

MARGE: Peter! Oh, Peter.

Thank God you’re here.

PETER: What’s going on?

MARGE: Get me out of here. Get me out of here. please!

PETER: Tom, are you okay?

MARGE: Get me out of here.

[MARGE CRYING]

You try. You try talking to her.

PETER: Tom?

RIPLEY: I give up.

PETER: Tell me what’s going on. Tom!

RIPLEY: I never did-What did I ever do to her?

PETER: Listen–

RIPLEY: Have her tell you one thing that I’ve ever done to her.

Listen, you can’t be angry with her.

She’s confused, and she needs someone to blame.

So she blames you.

Heh.

PETER: I’ll go back home and talk to her.

As for you…

…either get a safety razor or grow a beard.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

Is Mr.Greenleaf here?

Mr.Ripley?

Yes.

I’m AIvin MacCarron.

MARGE: I don’t know, I don’t know. I just know it.

GREENLEAF: Marge, there’s female intuition and then there are facts.

Tom.

RIPLEY: Sir.

Marge, you should have waited. I didn’t–

Didn’t Peter say I’d come by and pick you up?

Marge has been telling us about the rings.

Yes, I feel ridiculous I didn’t mention them yesterday.

I clean forgot. Ridiculous.

Perhaps you didn’t mention them because there’s only one conclusion to be drawn.

I’m going to take Marge for a walk. Tom, Mr. MacCarron needs to talk to you.

U h, no need. We could go to the bar. There’s no need.

No, no.

I think you should stay here.

[DOOR OPENS THEN CLOSES]

I could probably see my room from here.

I can see my house.

When you see where you live from a distance, it’s like a dream, isn’t it?

I don’t care for BS.

I don’t care to hear it. I don’t care to speak it.

Okay.

Did you know that at Princeton…

…Dickie Greenleaf half-killed a boy?

At a party over some girl.

Kicked the kid several times in the head, put him in the hospital.

Boy had a wire fixed in his jaw, lost some hearing.

Why do you think Dickie’s father sent him to Europe in the first place?

The Rome police didn’t think to ask Mr.Greenleaf.

Nor did they think to check on whether a Thomas Ripley…

…had ever been a student at Princeton University.

Oh, I turned up a Tom Ripley…

…who had been a piano tuner in the Music Department.

You see, in America…

…we are taught to check a fact before it becomes a fact.

We’re taught to nose around.

When a girl drowns herself…

…find out if that girl is pregnant.

Find out if Dickie had an embarrassment there.

Mr.Greenleaf appreciates your loyalty. He really does.

Marge, she has a hundred theories.

There are a few things that she doesn’t know.

We hope she never knows.

I hope she never knows.

Three different people…

…saw Dickie get into Freddie’s car.

One man, who will not testify…

…because he was jumping somebody else’s wife at the time…

…saw Dickie removing license plates from a red sports car.

The police know about this man because he happens to be a policeman.

I found these in the basement of Dickie’s apartment.

They belong to Freddie’s car.

Mr.Greenleaf has asked me…

…to Iose these in the canal this evening.

Mr.Greenleaf feels that there was a silent promise…

…in Dickie’s Ietter to you which he intends to honor.

He also intends to transfer a good portion of Dickie’s income from his trust…

…into your name.

He does not intend…

…to give the Italians any information about Dickie’s past.

He’s rather hoping that you will feel the same.

[MAN GRUNTS]

Thank you so much, Tom.

Sir.

Goodbye.

Marge, I feel I never should have said those things to you the other evening.

I was pretty flustered, heh, and the rings-And you looked so–

I don’t know.

But I hope that note goes in your purse to New York…

…for a rainy day.

What are you gonna do now, Tom?

I don’t know, um…

Peter has a concert in Athens next month. He asked me to come along and help out.

He says goodbye…

…by the way. Uh, he was in rehearsal so he couldn’t–

Why do I think there’s never been a Ripley rainy day?

What?

I know it was you. I know it was you.

Marge. Marge, Marge!

I know it was you! I know it was you!

[MARGE GRUNTING]

RIPLEY: Marge, Marge. Please!

I know you killed Dickie!

RIPLEY: Marge!

I know! No!

[CRYING]

I know it was you!

Marge. Marge, please.

It’s not Tom. Really.

RIPLEY & PETER [SINGING]: We are called gondolieri

But that‘s a vagary

It’s quite honorary

The trade that we ply

[BOTH CHUKLE]

Ask me what I’d change about this moment.

I don’t know. What do you want to change…

…about this moment?

Nothing.

I’m freezing. Coming down?

Later. I want to catch the sunset.

You’re mad.

[BOTH CHUKLE]

I am.

MEREDITH: Dickie?

Dickie?

Dickie!

Oh, my God.

Hello, Meredith.

I was looking at you.

Your clothes. I wouldn’t have known you.

Well, you spotted me, so you get the reward.

What?

Just kidding.

Are you alone?

Um…

Hardly. Couldn’t be less alone.

Aunt Joan.

And “co.”

Ugh, a lot of “co.”

Oh, God.

You know, seeing you again, I–

I’ve thought about you…

…so much.

And I’ve thought about you.

Yeah, well, when I’ve thought about you, I was mostly hating you.

[CLICKS TONGUE]

Where have you been hiding?

I haven’t been hiding.

I’ve been in police custody.

They’ve been trying to flush out Freddie’s killer.

Aah! You’re kidding.

Well-They’re giving me this vacation…

…which is why the getup.

Which is why you haven’t heard from me.

You know, the whole world thinks you killed Freddie.

Ugh.

Oh.

It’s terrible.

I know.

Listen, I can’t talk now, um, later?

Later? Later?

So…

[MEREDITH CHUKLES]

Are you traveling under R?

[CHUKLES]

You know what? I am.

[BOTH CHUKLE]

Dickie, are you with Peter Smith-Kingsley? I bet you are.

My aunt thought she saw him.

Peter Smith-Kingsley? No, I–

I haven’t seen him in months.

No, I’m alone.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

Hi.

How was it?

It was good.

But I’ll tell you something. I want us to stay in here for the rest of the trip.

[PETER CHUKLES]

Was that Meredith?

Was who Meredith?

Meredith Logue. You were kissing someone. It looked like Meredith.

I came out to find you.

Well, hardly kissing.

Kissing off.

It didn’t look that way.

You know? From a distance.

I lied. To her.

She thought she’d seen you.

Why lie?

[CHUKLES]

Dickie and Peter together. That’s just too good gossip.

Or Tom and Peter, even.

Heh, that would be even better gossip.

Really? Why?

I-I’m…

I’m completely lost.

I know.

I’m sorry, Peter.

I’m lost.

I’m gonna be stuck in the basement, aren’t I? Heh.

Aren’t I?

That’s my…

Terrible…

…and alone…

…and dark, heh.

And I’ve lied, heh…

…about who I am…

…and where I am.

Now no one will ever find me, heh.

What do you mean, lied about who you are?

I always thought it would be better…

…to be a fake somebody…

…than a real nobody.

What are you talking about? You’re not a nobody.

That’s the last thing you are.

Peter.

Heh, tell me some good things about Tom Ripley.

No, don’t get up. Don’t get up. Don’t get up.

Just–

Just tell me some nice things about Tom Ripley.

[CHUKLES]

Good things about Tom Ripley.

That could take me some time.

Tom is talented. Tom is tender.

Tom is beautiful.

[BOTH CHUKLE]

You’re such a liar.

Tom is-Tom is a mystery.

PETER: Tom is not a nobody.

Tom has secrets he doesn‘t want to tell me…

…and I wish he would.

Tom has nightmares.

That’s not a good thing.

Tom has someone to love him.

That is a good thing.

Um, Tom is, heh, crushing me.

Tom is crushing me.

[RIPLEY CRYI NG]

PETER: Tom. Tom, you’re crush–

RIPLEY [CRYING]: Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Oh, God! Peter.

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The Help (2011) | Transcript

An aspiring author during the civil rights movement of the 1960s decides to write a book detailing the African American maids’ point of view on the white families for which they work, and the hardships they go through on a daily basis.

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