Seemingly without realizing it, Patricia Highsmith created one of literature’s most enigmatic figures in the form of Tom Ripley. What is even more bewildering is how he has rarely been cited as such, normally being a figure that many people adore, but not on the same level as many of the great literary antiheroes of the past. Despite this, Ripley has been the subject of many different interpretations, where a variety of filmmakers and actors have taken the seed of the character and crafted memorable works that span the decades and traverse different continents, making him one of the most discreetly omnipotent figures of the second half of the twentieth century. The first entry was The Talented Mr Ripley, which was Highsmith’s debut of Ripley, and which was subsequently adapted into Purple Noon (French: Plein Soleil), the French-language version of the story that saw René Clément venturing into the mind of literature’s most fascinating sociopath while trotting through the streets and canals of various Italian location. While it may not be the definitive version of this story (which is held by Anthony Minghella’s 1999 version of Highsmith’s novel, with this being one of the only comparative references to that adaptation in this review, because looking at them in contrast would do a great disservice to what Clément did with this film, as it is an entirely different work with its own merits that are worth noting), but rather a brooding, lust-filled psychological thriller that finds the nuance in Highsmith’s dastardly story, and gives audiences something to engage with, especially when Purple Noon manages to hit its stride, becoming a truly enduring work that manages to do so much with an incredibly challenging novel without being overwhelming, nor flippant towards the author’s many complex themes that are far deeper than they appear on a superficial glance.

Despite having become one of the author’s most enduring creations, and recurring through a series of books that focus on him and his various misadventures, Tom Ripley’s origins have always been the most fascinating, and Purple Noon understands this, and employs a meticulously detailed exploration of his roots, prior to surrendering to his manipulative nature. It’s not very clear what makes his story so compelling – perhaps it’s the narrative occurring at the perfect intersection between lavish, European melodrama and dark, twisted psychological thriller that not only keeps us perpetually engaged with the story, but also deeply fascinated with the lengths to which this character will go to get his way. Highsmith constructed an unforgettable character, and Clément did his part in bringing him to life in a way that felt authentic, and not simply transposing him from the pages of the novel onto the screen without developing him into an even more interesting figure. Purple Noon is a film that constantly seems to be on the verge of eruption, with the tranquillity of its surroundings (as captured so beautifully by Henri Decaë) being in stark contrast with the more perverted storyline that provokes us to look far deeper into this character than we would had his activities not be captured with such enigmatic sophistication. Clément’s approach to the material was not particularly revolutionary – for all its merits, Purple Noon isn’t much more than a gaudy European thriller about attractive people succumbing to their own greed and corruption – it’s the proverbial “Eurotrash” that has divided audiences for decades. However, if we look beneath this glossy veneer, and instead look into what is implied by this film, and how Clément balances stylistic endeavours with a very challenging narrative, it’s difficult to not be in absolute awe of Purple Noon, which goes in so many disparate directions, keeping up is actively part of the experience of seeing this film and sampling from the director’s beautifully-constructed vision of Highsmith’s novel.

Another aspect of the Ripley character that has made him so compelling is, despite being played by several actors, he has yet to find a consistent identity, which is incredibly appropriate. No two actors playing Ripley have ever interpreted him in the same way – and whether we’re considering Matt Damon’s schoolboy-esque charms, or John Malkovich’s aged cynicism or Dennis Hopper’s unhinged humour, the character has always been a fundamentally interesting one. Alain Delon takes on the part here, and he’s incredible – he plays Ripley in a very particular way, using his distinctive good looks to an unexpected amount of effectiveness. There are a malice underlying Delon’s striking blue eyes, and every flashing smile conceals a wry, sinister charm that makes his version of Ripley one of the most enduring. He may be presented in a slightly less flawless manner than Highsmith originally intended – the director intentionally creates the feeling that this version of Ripley is a man who genuinely believes the world is his oyster, and doesn’t have any of the existential angst that he originally had. This may appear like it’s stripping him of some of his most discernible qualities – what is Ripley without his unrequited love for Dickie Greenleaf (or in this case, Phillipe Greenleaf), and the substantial identity crisis that comes with it? We often need to question where Ripley wanted to be Greenleaf, or wanted to be with him, which is something that Clément doesn’t quite explore in much detail in this adaptation. Yet, we can’t fault the film too much for this, since it compensates for these omissions with an equally-compelling sense of foreboding danger pulsating through the film, as represented in Delon’s choices for the character. His complexities lie not in his inner quandaries, but rather the small moments of expressivity, where we see Ripley come to terms with what he had just done – assuring himself that he didn’t commit the murder, or the final shot, where he genuinely believes that he has gotten away with the crime. It’s a fascinating performance from an actor who, despite becoming a worldwide cinematic icon in subsequent years, was rarely ever better than he was here.

What was most striking about Purple Noon is how, even if you are entirely familiar with this story and know all of its details, Clément still manages to surprise us, to the effect that we eventually have no choice but to surrender ourselves to his vision, and even on occasion second-guess our own knowledge. We never quite know where he is going to take this story – the elisions from the source material are abundant, but all entirely necessary, with every change made by the director being from either necessity, or to satiate some artistic curiosity that he hoped to infuse into the film. Purple Noon feels less like watching a film, and closer to witnessing a crime occurring in real time – Clément effectively looks into the various facets of the story in such a way that the details are present, but never weighing it down – moments of exposition are rare, but they do exist to set the tone and establish a conceptual framework from which we can work. It’s an almost voyeuristic experience, no less because the director interprets the story less as one that keeps the audience at a distance, but rather allows us into the narrative. We’re placed at the centre of this sweltering, twisted vacation, accompanying these characters as they journey on yachts, eat at restaurants and gallivant through the beautiful Italian streets, each of which comes to be associated with the criminal underpinnings of the film. Purple Noon isn’t only a great thriller, it’s the rare kind of film that carries the “location as character” approach, and Rome is repurposed as a looming figure, just as important to the story as anything else, and from which so much is extracted, contributing to the overall sense of looming danger that pervades throughout the film. Clément shows great restraint in terms of the stylistic aspects of the story, which he flawlessly intertwines with the more traditional narrative beats, creating a multimodal work that plays on all of our senses and incites a great deal of thought throughout.

Purple Noon has gradually found a unique space in the culture – it occurred concurrently to the French New Wave, and seems to be one of the last of the great French thrillers that dominated in previous decades, where twisted, perverted stories and heightened representations of reality were prominent, prior to a more naturalistic form of representing these stories. It’s often very superficial, and there are some moments in the film where we need to suspend disbelief in order to fully commit to what we’re seeing. However, this doesn’t mean Purple Noon isn’t an incredible film on its own terms – the layered approach to the text makes the story all the more compelling, since in this world, absolutely anything is possible. At its most fundamental level, Highsmith’s story is one about the intersections of identity and criminality, and while we’re incredibly invested in the story of a man committing murder and then adopting the identity of one of his victims, what keeps us engaged isn’t whether or not he’ll get away with it, but rather the lengths to which he will go to live the life he has always yearned for. For this reason alone, we can easily proclaim that what Clément is worth all the effort – and when he ventures further, and see how he so poignantly realizes each individual aspect of the story, it becomes all the more enthralling. Tom Ripley is one of literature’s finest creations, and Clément and Delon do him (and the incredible source material) justice by understanding that adaptation doesn’t only mean faithfulness to the original text, but also layering one’s own individual interpretation onto it, which is achieved in an abundance throughout Purple Noon, a wonderfully entertaining and thought-provoking exercise.