Purple Noon (1960)

None of my sources explain the English title. I can see how the native French one, Plein soleil, "Full Sun," wouldn't carry over; but I noticed no literal purple, nor do any characters mention it, at least in the subtitles. In any event, it's the first screen adaptation of The Talented Mr. Ripley.

Master forger Tom Ripley is not exactly a friend to aristocrat Philippe Greenleaf, but they enjoy a bit of mischief together in Italy. Philippe must sense jealousy of his fiancée, Marge, because he grows mean to Tom—until Tom kills him. Tom does a good job of hiding Philippe's body and assuming his identity (except around prior acquaintances), but even a genius doesn't have an easy time keeping up a charade indefinitely....

The most jarring thing about the movie is that the main characters are supposed to be from the U.S. They speak to each other in French in a non-francophone country, barely say a word of English, and don't pronounce even their own names with American accents. And "Philippe," not "Philip"? Well, I suppose many Hollywood pics of that era were equally guilty of similar cultural laziness.

The next most jarring thing is Philippe's behavior. When asked, he can't seem to give a good reason for letting Tom hang with him. He doesn't treat Marge much better, leading me to wonder why he wants her. And when he rightly suspects Tom's plans for him, he doesn't approach the issue the way I'd think to. These factors together enabled me not to sympathize when he died.

Not that I was rooting for Tom either. He is basically a friendless career criminal, after all. And he's only so much nicer toward Marge than Philippe was—not emotionally abusive, but his manipulations and their timing leave something to be desired.

Brilliant? Eh, maybe. He's not unbelievably so, like Hannibal Lecter; some of his lies sound weak immediately. But I'd be hard-pressed to do what he does better. Then again, I'd know better than to try.

It's a curious thing when the protagonist of a thriller is a villain. Part of me wants him caught, but another part insists there's no hurry. I kinda worry on both his behalf and his enemies' behalf. In that way, there's always a little suspense. Just not a lot at once.

Patricia Highsmith, author of the novel, had mixed feelings about this film. Her positive feelings are the common ones: It's beautifully shot (with, as the title implies, too much sun for a noir atmosphere) and pretty thought-provoking. I won't tell you her complaint, as it contains a spoiler, but I disagree that it's necessarily a bad departure.

PN is both good enough and imperfect enough that I expect to watch the 1999 remake someday. I'll wait a while so that PN isn't too fresh in my mind.