The Stunning Cinematography in Netflix's Ripley
In awe of how the black-and-white cinematography and psychological depth are masterfully crafted in Netflix's Ripley to create this unforgettable series.
I don't think I have ever written a post about a TV show before, but woah. This one deserves it. I can't get it out of my head. Last night, we wrapped the 8-episode limited series Ripley, on Netflix. We have been savoring it for the last few nights, and I am pretty sure the images have already been living in my dreams as well.
Ripley was directed by Steven Zaillian with Robert Elswit as his cinematographer. With a phenomenal cast mostly revolving around Andrew Scott, Johnny Flynn, and Dakota Fanning.
I have always loved reading, and as a kid, I remember vividly when some friends of my parents recommended I read The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith. It's been so long since I read that book or watched Matt Damon's version of the story, that to be honest, I didn't remember a lot of the storyline. And as a kid, I am sure I missed a lot of the more adult nuance of the character and the plotline.
Netflix's Ripley, this new version featuring the incredible Andrew Scott as enigmatic con man, Tom Ripley, has left me completely in awe by its unique approach to the narrative, a big part due to its exceptional black-and-white cinematography. This creative choice not only sets the series apart from its predecessors but also serves to deepen the psychological exploration of its main character, and it immerses you as a viewer into a world where moral ambiguity and deception reign supreme.
As a film lover who has often found myself watching them without sound to admire the cinematography, 2001 is a prime example of that, I can confidently say that Ripley is a series I could easily watch on mute, lost in the mesmerizing visuals that compose each frame. When we mentioned this series to our neighbor Jay last night, apparently he loves doing the same, so I guess I’m not alone. The show's black-and-white aesthetic, masterfully crafted by Elswit, draws inspiration from classic films and the film noir genre, evoking the works of Alfred Hitchcock and Stanley Kubrick.
Elswit has been the cinematographer on several films by one of my favorite directors, P. T. Anderson. Movies like Boogie Nights, There Will be Blood, and Magnolia to name just a few. So you know this is a master at work. His understanding of composition, light, and shadow, is awe-inspiring, to say the least.
My boyfriend mentioned how Hitchcock's influence can be seen throughout in the way Ripley builds suspense and tension through its visual language, and I completely agree. At times, the tension moves so slowly and layered throughout an episode, that psychologically as an audience you feel it at a much deeper level.
The use of high-contrast lighting and deep shadows, reminding me of films like Strangers on a Train (1951) and Psycho (1960), creates an atmosphere of unease and mystery, perfectly complementing the psychological complexity of Tom Ripley's character. There's a duality in his personality, and Elswit uses darks, light, contrast, and texture to augment that feeling of the two characters Ripley inhabits. Every composition is intentional here, and you can feel it in every frame.
The series also employs Hitchcockian framing techniques, such as the use of subjective camera angles and voyeuristic shots, to heighten the sense of paranoia and draw viewers deeper into Ripley's world. In a recent Vanity Fair interview, Elswit mentioned his obsession with "trying to shoot things where we're an observer in the next room looking through a doorway. I like the way it looks and the way it feels like we're spying on people." This voyeuristic approach adds to the series' tension and psychological depth.
Similarly, the influence of Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove (1964) can be seen in Ripley's bold use of black-and-white cinematography to convey a sense of moral ambiguity and absurdity. Just as Kubrick used the monochrome palette to underscore the dark humor and political satire in his film, Ripley employs it to highlight the irony and moral contradiction ingrained in Tom Ripley's character, a man who is both charming and sociopathic, relatable and reprehensible.
The eyeline and subtle gazes that Dakota Fanning and Andrew Scott masterfully perform throughout the series add so much depth to the internal conflicts and mistrust they have for each other, and it grips you to the very end. Their performances and stunning visuals make for a truly captivating viewing experience that has left a lasting impact on me.
Elswit's cinematography, combined with Steve Zaillian's perfect direction and Jeff Russo's atmospheric score, creates a mood that is uniquely compelling and disturbing. I find myself fascinated by the way the camera lingers on the breathtaking landscapes of Italy, only to suddenly plunge us into the vast, shadowy interiors that obscure Ripley's schemes. Each frame is a work of art, carefully composed to reveal the psychological underpinnings of the story and its characters. There are stairs. Lots of stairs.
I am particularly in love with how the stark contrast between light and dark elements in Ripley symbolizes the internal conflicts within the main character and the contradiction between his outward charismatic persona and inner plans. The use of half-light and shadow, light-over-dark and dark-over-light, a staple of the film noir genre, plays into the themes of uncertainty and secrecy that permeate the series, reflecting Ripley's deceptive nature and the mystery surrounding his actions. It's a visual approach that keeps me engaged, constantly questioning the character's motives and the consequences of his actions.
In black-and-white photography and filmmaking, texture becomes a crucial element in conveying realism and depth, and Ripley excels in this regard. The rich textures, from the luxurious fabrics of the characters' clothing to the gritty surfaces of the Italian cobblestone streets, accentuate the organic reality of the 1960s setting and Ripley's interactions with his environment. This makes his deceptions and manipulations all the more grounded and tangible, heightening the psychological impact on the viewer. A lot of the scenes remind me of Portugal so much, and part of me wishes Ripley would decide to travel there for a future season.
As a testament to the power of visual storytelling, Ripley showcases how expertly crafted cinematography can heighten a narrative into the realm of art. The series not only tells a compelling story but also invites viewers to experience the psychological intricacy and moral ambiguity of its central character on a visceral level. It is a must-watch for anyone who appreciates the artistry of cinema and the way it can be used to explore the depths of the human psyche.
By embracing the visual language of classic film noir and infusing it with a modern sensibility, the series creates a unique and immersive experience that has left me completely in awe. Ripley is a series that I will undoubtedly revisit if only to lose myself in the unforgettable visuals of every frame.
I encourage all of you to watch Ripley with an observant eye for visual storytelling and to share your thoughts and interpretations with me or in the comments below. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Thank you for reading 🖤
I can't remember if Caravaggio was such a big accent in the original movie as it is here, but I thought it was a super clever element for a black and white movie as he is known for his masterful use of light and it really stood out here. I am obsessed with this series and will be rewatching it very soon.
I thought the cat was GREAT! What powerful effects for such short screen times.