"10"

(October 1979, U.S.)

The year was 1979. I was twelve years-old, in the seventh grade, and my heterosexual hormones were beginning to rage! There was a new comedy in theaters by the same guy that made a bunch of those PINK PANTHER movies called "10" and it had this incredible new woman in it named Bo Derek who was supposed to be the hottest sex symbol since Farrah Fawcett-Majors! There were these iconic images of her on the beach dressed in a flimsy flesh-colored swimsuit, with a hairstyle dressed in cornrows, that were becoming all the rage in magazines and the world of entertainment. Images like this were telling me to get my young butt to the movie theater as quickly as possible...

As good luck would have it, "10" was playing at the single screen neighborhood movie theater. As bad luck would have it, my parents were the strict kind who wouldn't allow me to go to a movie featuring extensive nude scenes and sex (my parents, at that moment of my life, were the enemy!). It would be at least two years before I finally got to see "10"...on television. Still, over that past year, I’d become very aware of Bo Derek’s popularity from this film and saw many of those iconic pictures of her in magazines (including Playboy). Watching "10" on TV was the first opportunity to see the film that launched her fame, though it was impossible for me to realize just how much I was missing with the edited-for-television version and all its nudity and strong sexual content toned down or deleted entirely. This was a version that only a kid could get away with watching when raised by parents who’d never let him see the uncut R-rated version on screen. Still, even edited, it was a chance for me to get a glimpse of Bo Derek in all her beautiful glory.

As an adult, one can only sympathize with a middle-aged successful songwriter like George Webber (played by Dudley Moore) in becoming obsessed with meeting a woman like Bo Derek and trying to get her into bed. I mean, if you had to choose between Bo and Julie Andrews, isn’t the choice obvious? George goes through extensive steps to try and find this woman named Jenny Miles, including visiting the priest who married her only a day ago and allowing himself to be operated on by her prominent Beverly Hills dentist father. Still, even for a man in his early forties, George isn't exactly living a dry life. Despite the fact that his girlfriend is Julie Andrews, she seems to be willing enough to keep their sex life as active as possible. What's more, George has a distant neighbor within telescope range who's living the life of a horny bachelor with daily swinging orgies, complete with half or fully naked women.

But obsession knows no limitations. Determined to find Jenny, George impulsively boards a plant to follow her and her new husband to their exclusive resort in Mexico. While trying to figure how to make the right move, George befriends the resort bartender and even attempts sex with a woman who suffers from a lack of sexual self-confidence (played by a pre-E.T. Dee Wallace). Despite having a California home on the beach, George clearly doesn't function well on the beach, as he remains dressed in thick sweats and painfully treks across flaming-hot sand in order to get close enough to Jenny in all of her bathing suit beauty! This is where George's fantasies begin to entertain us, with images of Jenny running to him on the beach and making out with him in the sand...

When George inadvertently saves Jenny's husband from drowning, she can't help but finally show her gratitude toward him while her poor hubby is recovering in the hospital. In her hotel room, George is finally get the woman he's wanted for so long, complete with marijuana and the seductive sounds of Maurice Ravel's Boléro.

I suppose this is where Hollywood's bullshit version of morality in the story takes over. Elated to finally have Jenny right where he wants her (naked!), he's shocked, nonetheless, to see just how casually Jenny treats an unexpected phone call from her recovering husband. Furthermore, he can't understand Jenny's casual attitude toward her new marriage, which she describes as mutually open and honest. For Jenny, George is just a "casual lay", and it would seem that George wants to be more than than, despite having his own relationship back in California. So I suppose our lesson learned here is that all people are hypocrites and men (even comedic ones like Dudley Moore) are just plain stupid when they suddenly get an attack of morality just at the point when they're about to score with the finest piece of ass they've ever tried so damn hard to get!

Blake Edwards, whether trying to drive home pointless points of sexual morality, make us laugh hysterically with Dudley Moore's antics (particularly when he's filled with novocaine and alcohol), or simply trying to turn us on with Bo Derek's kick-ass body, scores well with "10". For myself, however, I could do without the obvious plugs to hear Julie Andrews display her singing talents. These are the musical moments I hit the fast forward button on my DVD player. Then again, there are also the naked moments like this when I hit the pause button on my DVD player...

Yes, it would seem that the raging heterosexual hormones of the twelve year-old, seventh grade boy in 1979 are still alive and well when he thinks of Bo Derek of the past! So thank you, Bo, for all the memories of your steaming, hot youth! Oh, and thank you for this awesome poster that hung on my bedroom wall throughout my teens...

And thank you for giving me the opportunity to shamelessly post numerous vintage pictures of you on my blog!

Favorite line or dialogue:

George Webber: "If you were dancing with your wife, or girlfriend you knew in high school, and you said to her, Darling, they're playing our song, do you know what they'd be playing?"
Don the Bartender: "What?"
George Webber: "Why Don't We Do It In The Road. Fuckin' hell kind of era is that?"

TAXI DRIVER

(February 1976, U.S.)

Martin Scorsese's TAXI DRIVER is one of those visual films that sucks you not only into the world of its lonely and isolated protagonist Travis Bickle (played famously by Robert DeNiro), but also the unsettling world he inhabits. Is it any wonder that author and film historian Nick Clooney chose TAXI DRIVER and its controversial violence as one of his selections for his book, THE MOVIES THAT CHANGED US, and its impact on history when John Hinckley Jr.'s obsession with the film and Jodie Foster drove him to attempt to assassinate President Ronald Reagan on March 30, 1981. Still, this world in question isn't exactly Mars, you know. It's New York City in the heat wave-drenched summer of 1975. But as a visual trip back in time, you can't help but become involved in what the island of Manhattan used to look like back in the days of its filth and scum. The streets are lined with garbage and decay. 42nd Street, in particular, is overrun with hookers, pimps and grindhouse porn theaters. In fact, one can't help but feel that Scorsese is accentuating the point of the many, many movie theaters (porn, or otherwise) that once lined nearly every street and corner that you saw. Concentrate on the scene outside of Travis's taxi cab windshield while listening to Bernard Herrmann's (final) haunting score and you'll see and understand what the city used to look like...

The city is vast and impersonal, and an anonymous man like Travis Bickle is lost within its soul. Suffering from severe insomnia, Travis takes a job as a taxi driver to kill the long hours of the night and get paid for it. He'll drive anywhere, anytime, and will seemingly tolerate any form of scum that enters his cab. Even in his narration to us, he almost nonchalantly points out to us that it's practically part of his nightly routine to clean up the cum and the blood from the back seat of his cab. It would seem that there's no hope of any possible redemption for the city and the human race in Travis's mind, until he becomes infatuated with Betsy (played by Cybill Shepherd), a political campaign volunteer for Senator and Presidential candidate Charles Palantine (played by Leonard Harris). Sadly, Travis has no realistic concept of acceptable social behavior, even with women. On their first date, he naively takes her to a porn film on 42nd Street and has no understanding of why she should choose to be upset about it. That pretty much ends their potential relationship and drives Travis deeper into his isolation from the world and his violent thoughts toward its people. Growing more and more disgusted by the sleaze, dysfunction and prostitution he witnesses throughout the entire city, he seeks to make himself known by contemplating an assassination attempt against Palantine, while also trying to rescue and redeem an adolescent runaway and prostitute named Iris (played by a then twelve year-old Jodie Foster), who would secretly love to escape the world she's in and the pimp that controls her, Sport (played by Harvey Keitel).

Sinking deeper and deeper towards destructive behavior, Travis cuts his hair into a mohawk and attends a public political rally where his attempt against Palantine fails when the Secret Service discover his presence. He escapes capture, but resurfaces to take down Sport and continue on a violent and bloody killing rampage against his brothel's bouncer and one of Iris's mafioso customers. Badly injured in the shootout, he attempts suicide, but has run out of ammunition. As the film proceeds into an epilogue, Travis is not only alive and well, but a redeemed soul who has gained admiration and respect from not only Iris's parents, but from Betsy, as well, who just happens to get into his cab in the final moment of the film.

In a year when ROCKY won the Oscar for Best Picture of 1976, it's clear to see that Scorsese's compelling and hard-hitting masterpiece is what should have truly taken the statue. The world of TAXI DRIVER is hell in a yellow cab driven by a rejected man on the edge of his own insanity. The life of Travis Bickle is a study in deterioration, from his physical appearance down to his own personal confrontations even before they occur on the streets. Even while he's imagining a violent conflict in his own apartment to the tune of his own words, "You talkin' to me?", the stage is set for what will ultimately turn to blood. And yet even despite the film's violent outcome, Hollywood cannot help but offer us a happy ending in which our anti-hero is not only saved from death, but redeemed in his soul, too.

Or is he? There has long been controversy that maybe that so-called happy ending never really happened at all. Did Travis really survive the bloody carnage that took place in that hotel room? The bullet hole in the side of his neck and the additional shots he took to his body would suggest NO. His lifeless body on the floor as the police arrive would also support that suggestion. Did Travis, in fact, die with honor on the floor and simply fantasize about his own "heroism"? Is his reconciliation with Betsy at the film's finale merely his dying thought? Would his agitation after seemingly noticing something in his rear-view mirror as he drives away suggest that his entire story could be looped as one ongoing saga of his inner mind? These are questions that may never be answered, and perhaps it's best for the film's immortal history that they not be answered. Marty may just want it that way.

Favorite line or dialogue:

Travis Bickle (narrating): "Listen, you fuckers, you screwheads! Here is a man who would not take it anymore! A man who stood up against the scum, the cunts, the dogs, the filth, the shit! Here is a man who stood up!"

TAPS

(December 1981, U.S.)

One of my favorite male screen chemistry, other than Paul Newman and Robert Redford, was Timothy Hutton and Sean Penn, and it's a shame they never worked together again after THE FALCON AND THE SNOWMAN in 1986. In TAPS, Hutton has the edge over the still unknown Penn, from his significant attention from ORDINARY PEOPLE a year before. There's also the very unknown Tom Cruise who solidifies his own presence in this film. But for it's time, it's George C. Scott's legendary standing as an accomplished veteran actor that's meant to lure one's attention to the film. Surely, the man who mastered the character of George S. Patton is the one meant for a military role such as his.

The story follows the military school students at Bunker Hill Academy who take over their school in order to save it from closing. Cadet Brian Moreland (Hutton) has just been promoted to Cadet Major, the highest ranking student at the Academy. Admired and respected by his peers, he's the one who'll ultimately lead the revolt against the civilian bureaucracies responsible for closing a school with decades of honor and tradition to make way for their condominiums. Upon learning of the closing, the cadets are confident that they, along with their commander, General Harlan Bache (Scott) will be able to save their beloved school in the year that they have to do it. However, an accidental shooting of one of the local bullying teenagers outside the graduation ceremony ball sends Bache into police custody for manslaughter and accelerates the closing of the school by the board of trustees. The trauma of the event also causes Bache to have a heart attack and he's hospitalized in critical condition. Since Bache is ill, Moreland takes matters into his own hands by ordering his student colleagues to steal and hide all of the school's armory before it can be seized by the Dean and the local Sheriff. Demanding to meet with Bache and the trustees in return for the weapons, Moreland is nearly arrested himself when he's suddenly backed by his friends above, each of them with their weapon pointed at the powers-that-be that threaten their school's future. This is the image on the movie poster and it's one that could have you cheering for the underdogs.

Tensions escalate when cadets are forced to shoot their way out of a confrontational situation between themselves and more of the local townspeople. Now the police and the military are involved in what's turned into an armed standoff between Bunker Hill and the rest of the outside world. As the standoff continues to escalate in the days to come, the strength behind its resolve seems to slowly deteriorate as more and more students are caving in and "going over the wall", as it were, no longer believing in the cause they're fighting for. Even Moreland's best friend, Alex Dwyer (Penn) is steadily growing impatient with Moreland's military position over the other boys in an almost "godlike" fashion. Only David Shawn (Cruise) seems willing and ready to take things to their ultimate extreme in order to preserve what is right and just in their otherwise closed-off world, and he does in the end, when Moreland finally declares all of the boys to stand down following the accidental death of a twelve year-old cadet, and Shawn opens fire on the entire regimen of forces outside the school's main gate. There's actually something very "Tom Cruise" about the way he looks at his comrades for the last time while firing his machine gun and proclaims, "It's beautiful, man!", and is then riddled with bullets...

While TAPS may seem nothing more than male bonding drama of young talents that would later go on to bigger and better things, it's impossible not to recognize the similarities between it and LORD OF THE FLIES. Like those stranded British school boys in William Golding's classic novel, the boys of Bunker Hill must look after themselves in a world without grownups that's cut off from the rest of society. But because these boys are not in the position of fighting for their physical survival, their intentions and actions may seems all the more dangerous in that they must pick and choose how far they will go in order to uphold a cause they feel is worth fighting for. Survival brings on the necessity of actions which could almost be condoned, right or wrong. The cause, whatever it may be, requires more thought behind what is morally right and wrong. The boys of Bunker Hill are men of honor who live in a world where students on the outside often vandalize their schools, and this makes them appear all the more righteous. On the other of the coin is a strictly-disciplined education of minds and bodies that the rest of the world may regard as too different and unpopular from the norm. I know nothing of the true nature of real life military academies, so I'm in no position to judge right or wrong. I only know that in the fictional world of TAPS, Timothy Hutton, Sean Pean, Tom Cruise and George C. Scott are men who are talented enough to convince us that following them into battle, any battle, is the right thing to do.

Favorite line or dialogue:

Brian Moreland: "We have a home here! We think it's something worth defending!"

TALK RADIO

(December 1988, U.S.)

In 1988, the films of Oliver Stone were solidified in my brain and in my moviegoing enthusiasm. His last three films, SALVADOR, PLATOON and WALL STREET had left impressions on me that, at the time, could not be equaled to any other active director, except perhaps, Steven Spielberg. Stone could've made a film about the damn phone book and I would've paid good money to see it. TALK RADIO, for me, seemed to represent Stones diversity to cover a variety of subjects, from war to the financial world to the media world I only personally knew of back then through the voice of Howard Stern, whose name is important to note here, because in effect, I would not have equated his name with the spirit of true talk radio. In the 1980s, Stern was political, controversial, and managed to abuse and insult his listeners on an almost daily basis. But it's always been my opinion that Stern was more of an outlet for entertainment and comedy than what serious talk radio is supposed to represent. Admittedly, I know almost nothing of true talk radio because it's not what I listen to. Men like Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and Mark Levin are not what I chose to occupy my ears and senses when I'm driving in my car or sitting at my computer writing (as I am now). As for Howard Stern, I haven't heard the man's voice since he left KROCK 92.3 FM in New York and began his broadcast on Sirius XM Radio in 2006, the reason being that I refuse to pay a monthly charge for radio that can still be heard for free. Still, the purpose behind this post is to not only interpret Stone's film, but to also cast my reflections on talk radio of the past.

Based on the play of the same name by Eric Bogosian and Tad Savinar, as well as the 1984 assassination of Denver, Colorado talk radio host Alan Berg, as depicted in the book Talked to Death: The Life and Murder of Alan Berg by Stephen Singular, the film TALK RADIO stars Bogosian as a Jewish, Howard Stern-type, Dallas, Texas radio personality who runs his nightly show, Night Talk, with a sarcastic, condescending, controversial and bitter sense of humor that almost always pisses off his audience, who more often than not, disagrees with Barry's liberal political views. When we're introduced to Barry's show, the man is on fire, attacking everything from the current establishment, the legalization of all drugs, and the repeated calls he receives from angry, bigoted white nationalists. The one constant through all of Barry's nightly antics is that no matter how much he insults and tears into his audience, they keep coming back for more. In a world where all of them could simply turn off his show, they choose to listen, night after night, for reasons none of them are ever able to justify when he confronts them with it on the air. At a live appearance at a sporting event (where he's abruptly booed off the platform), he righteously defends himself to a meek woman who hates him, by citing that her attacks and accusations against him have no credibility because she keeps listening to his show. Love Barry or hate him, he makes a very valid point in his defense.

As his show prepares to go nationwide, we see the personal side of Barry's life through vignettes with his much younger girlfriend (who's also his producer) and some rather unnecessary flashbacks to his early life when he started out as just a married suit salesman and manages to (by chance, really) land himself a job on the radio. In fact, when you see what Barry looks like in his younger days with his long hair, you can understand why Howard Stern himself panned the film's release back in 1988, claiming that Bogosian had literally ripped off his life (whether that's true or not is up to your own judgement). Barry is a rebel born out of the 1960s and seems happiest when he's fighting someone, be it his audience, his boss (played by Alec Baldwin), the show's new head honcho (played by John Pankow) or even his alienated ex-wife Ellen (played by Ellen Greene), whom he still has obvious feelings for when he asks her to fly to Dallas to support him during the show's new transition. But even those momentary feelings of love and remembrance Barry displays for Ellen are ultimately shattered when Barry's talk radio persona takes over and he blasts her on the air while the entire radio staff listens in horror. As one of Barry's listeners puts it, he's a pitiful man who doesn't know how to love.

Yet by all accounts, despite everything that can be despised about Barry Champlain, he is loved by all within the sound of his voice, and he's loved by those of us who sit in our seats and cling to every word he says. Stone knows how to grab us by the balls from the very beginning, and refuses to let go (well, during the talk radio sequences, anyway) right up until the very moment that Barry is shot dead by one of his crazed, right wing haters. But even before that ever happens, we're held in Barry's grip when during his second show of the film, he has what appears to be an epiphany on the air and slowly comes to realize just what sort of entity his audience really is. On air, Barry reveals his true self, admitting his hypocrisy of his personal gains and fame rather than the social ills he addresses, while refusing to apologize for them. He bitterly declares his fear of his listeners and berates them as morons who have nothing worth saying, even as they tolerate his abuse and ask for more. In fact, look carefully at Barry's face, and you'll see there's one moment where his expression of disgust is so obvious in his eyes and his mouth, you would think that's he's personally attacking the very microphone that has served as a nightly tool for all of his outrage toward the world and those who populate it. It's an unforgettable moment...

When TALK RADIO is over, we cannot help but feel the loss of a major media figure, as the camera pans over the city of Dallas to the electronic music of the Police's Stewart Copeland. But even more important is the reflection on the role talk radio once played in a world that did not yet know the meaning of the words of social media. Today, when we can all easily and anonymously voice our opinions, vile and disgusting as many of them often are, on outlets like Facebook and Twitter, we must recall a time when such verbal action had to bypass the radio airwaves, as well as the radio host, first. Many of us, even while often repelled by what other human beings stand for, cannot live without them through media channels that can safely keep them at a distance. Radio, besides catering to our own individual musical tastes, was once a powerful tool of human connection that could inflame our thoughts, our passions, and our anger. Radio was social media once, but sadly, is now nothing too much more than optional pay channels, in my opinion. But even today, in a world where angry opinions are like assholes (everybody's gone one!), I still believe in the power of traditional radio. Even as I sit writing this blog post, I'm listening to not only my favorite classic rock songs on Q104.3 FM New York, but I also take comfort in the sound of the DJ's voice accompanying my actions. It reminds me that radio, while still a very valid form of media, may never again be what it once was, for the simple reason that many of would rather express our voice and listen to our music through the channels of the home computer and the hand-held iPhone.

We live in a sad, sad world. Barry Champlain would've hated it more than the one he hated in the '80s. Like the words he first speaks at the beginning of the film..."The worst news of the day!"

Favorite line or dialogue:

Barry Champlain (on the air): "I'm a hypocrite. I ask for sincerity and I lie. I denounce the system as I embrace it. I want money and power and prestige. I want ratings and success. And I don't give a damn about you, or the world. That's the truth. For that I could say I'm sorry, but I won't. Why should I? I mean who the hell are you anyways you...audience! You're on me every night like a pack of wolves because you can't stand facing what you are and what you've made! Yes, the world is a terrible place! Yes, cancer and garbage disposals will get you! Yes, a war is coming! Yes, the world is shot to hell and you're all goners! Everything's screwed up and you like it that way, don't you? You're fascinated by the gory details! You're mesmerized by your own fear! You revel in floods and car accidents, unstoppable diseases! You're happiest when others are in pain! That's where I come in, isn't it? I'm here to lead you by the hands through the dark forest of your own hatred and anger and humiliation! I'm providing a public service! You're so scared! You're like a little child under the covers! You're afraid of the boogeyman, but you can't live without him! Your fear, your own lives have become your entertainment! Next month, millions of people are going to be listening to this show and you'll have nothing to talk about! Marvelous technology is at our disposal, and instead of reaching up to new heights, we're gonna see how far down we can go! How deep into the muck we can immerse ourselves! What do you wanna talk about, hmm? Baseball scores? Your pet? Orgasms? You're pathetic. I despise each and every one of you. You've got nothing, absolutely nothing. No brains, no power, no future, no hope, no God. The only thing you believe in is me! What are you if you don't have me? I'm not afraid, see! I come in here every night, I make my case, I make my point, I say what I believe in! I tell you what you are! I have to! I have no choice! You frighten me! I come in here every night, I tear into you, I abuse you, I insult you, you just keep coming back for more! Whats wrong with you? Why do you keep calling? I don't wanna hear anymore, stop talking! GO AWAY!!!

TALENTED MR. RIPLEY, THE

(December 1999, U.S.)

With the closing of the twentieth century, I noticed the fall films of 1999 becoming more interesting and intriguing, with titles like AMERICAN BEAUTY, THE GREEN MILE and THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY. Alfred Hitchcock surely would have been proud of the late Anthony Minghella's psychological thriller based on Patricia Highsmith original 1955 novel. Actually, he'd already adapted her novel STRANGERS ON A TRAIN into his own successful 1951 screen adaptation, so there you go.

If ever there was a human definition of the word sociopath, then perhaps the character of Tom Ripley(played by Matt Damon) is it. In 1950s New York City, Tom is struggling to make a living as a piano player. But really, even as he jokingly puts it, his true talents are "telling lies, forging signatures and impersonating people". While working at a party of rich NYC socialites, Tom is approached by wealthy shipbuilder Hereber Greenlead (played by the late James Rebhorn) who, simply because Tom has borrowed a Princeton jacket, believes that he attended Princeton with his son, Dickie Greenlead (played by Jude Law sporting a somewhat convincing American accent). Tom is recruited and paid one thousand dollars to travel to the Italian seaside town of Mongibello, Italy to persuade Dickie to return home to a more stable and responsible lifestyle. While en route, Tom strikes up a friendship with American socialite Meredith Logue (played by Cate Blanchett), pretending to actually be Dickie Greenleaf. Once arrived, Tom easily charms Dickie and his fiancée Marge (played by Gwyneth Paltrow) into accepting him into their lives. It's not long before Tom is completely sucked into the life of wealth and privilege that Dickie lives in Italy, as well as sucked into his own homosexual attraction toward Dickie. But one thousand dollars can't last forever, and it's not long before Dickie tires of Tom and his inability to pay his own way in Italy. These building tensions eventually lead to Dickie's murder at the hands of Tom aboard a rowboat in the middle of nowhere.

Bearing a good resemblance to Dickie, Tom decides to impersonate him and forges a letter to Marge, convincing her that Dickie has left her to live in Rome. He further creates the illusion that Dickie is alive and well by checking into a hotel Rome under his own name and Dickie's as well, creating an exchange of false communication between the two men. Through his continued lies and forgery, Tom becomes Dickie in the eyes of those who don't know him, while remaining Tom in the eyes of Marge and her circle of friends, including Peter Kingsley, who's developed an immediate romantic crush toward Tom. There's also the suspicious Freddie Miles (played by the late Philip Seymour Hoffman), who's persistent attacks on Tom and his fraudulent character inevitably get him killed by Tom. As the Italian police slowly close in on Tom as a person of interest, he's eventually able to convince the law that Dickie (remember, he's dead) was responsible for murdering Freddie. Through a forged suicide note, Tom is finally able to dispose of his Dickie persona and even manages, through sheer luck, to bequeath Dickie's trust fund by his father as a reward for Tom's loyalty to Dickie (oh, Tom IS good, isn't he!). Marge, however, is convinced of the evil and deceiving person that Tom is, but can't get anyone to listen to or believe her accusations. Finally free and clear of his horrible crimes, Ripley boards a ship to Greece with Peter, implying that they're now lovers. He's surprised, though, to run into Meredith on the ship, who still knows him as Dickie. Realizing he must now kill Peter to prevent being exposed as the impostor he is, he does so by crushing and strangling him to death. even as he's tearful and remorseful in doing so.

Now, realizing full well that I generally don't condone the making of endless films into a franchise, this is one of those rare situations where I do wish they'd continued Highsmith's RIPLEY novels in order to learn what eventually would become of Tom Ripley in the hands of Matt Damon. This first (and only) installment of the Ripley saga is an intelligent and insidious thriller that grabs our attention and takes us on a journey of who Tom Ripley really is and what he's willing to do to ultimately protect his identities and the lifestyles they've afforded him. While Matt Damon may still remind us that he looks so much like a boy, it's a man's, a diabolical man's mind continuously working the gears toward what's most important to him, and that is, as Tom puts it, "to be a fake somebody instead of a real nobody." The ensemble cast rounds things off perfectly, but it's necessary to recognize that they're job is to constantly feed off of Matt Damon and the identities he's struggling with. The talents belong to Mr. Ripley and it's their job to simply (and successfully) feed off of that talent, regardless of destination and consequences.

Even to this day, I still want to visit the various seaside villages on the Italian islands of Ischia and Procida, where THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY was filmed. Ah, the undeniable power of on-location cinema!

Favorite line or dialogue:

Freddie Miles: "I want this job of yours, Tommy. I was just saying, you live in Italy, sleep in Dickie's house, eat Dickie's food, wear his clothes, and his father picks up the tab. If you get bored, let me know, I'll do it."