A Talent for Murder review: Alden Ehrenreich gives sexy menace in this Patricia Highsmith-inspired thriller
Carol. Deep Water. Strangers on a Train. The Talented Mr. Ripley. American author Patricia Highsmith has inspired filmmakers for decades with her lurid tales of sex, deception, and murder. Now, she herself is a character in such a thriller, thanks to A Talent For Murder.
Adapted for the screen by Australian playwright Joanna Murray-Smith from her own play, Switzerland, this film imagines what might have happened if Highsmith’s biggest fan got the chance to meet his hero. Enter Edward Ridgeway (Tony winner Alden Ehrenreich), a handsome young man with carefully coiffed dark hair, a strong jaw, a pressed shirt, and polished glasses, but little poise. On a train through Switzerland, he seems like he stumbled out of the first chapter of a Tom Ripley novel, sure to be felled or corrupted by the iconic con man.
Now, the girl. Clementine Harriet Balfour (Olivia Cooke) is pretty, with a bouncy brunette bob, and a fashion sense that hints at an old-money family and independent ambitions. They meet as strangers on a train, but are sure to cross paths again in the small Swiss village where she’s visiting a miserly dowager aunt (Juliet Stevenson), and he’s tasked with getting Highsmith to sign a contract to write a sixth Ripley novel.
Director Anton Corbijn expertly lays out a spring-loaded trap that’s sure to capture the interest of Highsmith fans. A handsome couple flirts, while wealth and opportunity glitter on the horizon. What might they do to get there?
Enter a surly Highsmith, played with gnarly certainty by the one and only Helen Mirren.
Helen Mirren is a deranged delight in A Talent for Murder.
The English Dame has done Shakespeare and Prime Suspect; she’s played Queen Elizabeth II and a Fast and Furious baddie with equal aplomb. Plus, just last year, she played a sultry spy in the cozy crime treat The Thursday Murder Club. But there’s no lightness in Mirren’s Highsmith.
In 1995, atop a Swiss mountain, the heralded author has become an eccentric recluse, rumored to have poisoned a neighbor’s dog for barking too much, and to have driven an American man so mad he fled her home while only wearing his pajamas. Dressed in men’s slacks, a crisp men’s dress shirt, a cravat and vest, paired with a fuck-off bob, Mirren’s Highsmith is imposing, even introduced ironing a shirt.
When Edward appears, eager with compliments, gifts, and talk of opportunity, she regards him with such scorching disdain the audience at the Toronto International Film Festival gasped and guffawed. The ruthless wit of the Ripley novels is sharply replicated in Murray-Smith’s screenplay, and Mirren makes the most of every line, savoring the sharp barbs. To his credit, Ehrenreich doesn’t balk in the face of this storied actress. And thank the gods, because failing to match her onscreen would make A Talent for Murder a miss. Instead, it’s a twisted thrill: sexy, salty, and wickedly fun.
Alden Ehrenreich is hot and bothered in A Talent for Murder.
Earlier this year, Ehrenreich earned praise and a Tony award for his phenomenal performance in the Broadway revival of Becky Shaw. Watching A Talent for Murder, I thought often of this stage performance, as his characters have a lot in common. Young men who’ve come from a family with no means and no reputation worth a damn, who both cozy up to a wealthy family, determined not just to enter their world but to rule it.
At first glance, Edward looks like Matt Damon’s version of Ripley, from the juicy 1999 adaptation The Talented Mr. Ripley. His hair floppy but fashionable. His smile earnest but awkward. The eyeglasses, a perfect twin. This feels intentional, as if Corbijn wants Highsmith fans to immediately wonder if this eager social climber might have the root of evil in him, which could make Highsmith’s criminal mastermind real.
Smartly, the screenplay doesn’t pitch Edward as some rube. He’s come ready to impress Highsmith, even if that means tantalizing her with twisted tales from his past, and the possibility of criminally corrupting him. Enticed by his game, the two begin to collaborate on a murder mystery about a blue-collar boy who meets an old-money girl, and is determined to make her family fortune his own. Their thought experiment gets joltingly real as Highsmith haunts him in the night and inspires him to treat the reckless heiress Clementine as source material.
From there, A Talent for Murder begins to blur what’s real and imagined in pursuit of bringing fresh blood to Highsmith’s typewriter. And it just wouldn’t work if Ehrenreich weren’t on fire. Where Mirren is delicious in her snarling cruelty (think Tilda Swinton in Problemista), Ehrenreich is intriguing in his slipperiness. Edward and Highsmith’s imagined novel plays out as we watch, recasting the former as her anti-hero, with Clementine playing the role they write for her. In these sections, Ehrenreich has the smoothness of Ripley, his confidence edged with a misanthropic disgust at all who aren’t as clever and calculating as he. But as Edward, Ehrenreich trembles with insecurity, particularly in a scene where he’s delicately called out by an Irish lady (Brid Brennan), who spots him as an outsider from his shoes alone.
To her credit, Cooke is not outshone in the slim role of Clementine. Whether the imagined version where she is a yearning virgin or the real one, where she is a spoiled rich girl looking for a cheap thrill, she brings a full-blooded verve to this girl. Together, this trio weaves a tale of sex, death, and desire that touches on the best of Highsmith’s works, without feeling like a shallow retread of them. Instead, A Talent for Murder plays like a superb fan fiction, imagining the inner world and grisly desires of the seminal author, without idolizing her or whitewashing her well-documented defects.
A Talent For Murder is darkly funny, freshly thrilling, and unrepentantly seductive. It’s not a Ripley sequel, but it’s damn close.
A Talent For Murder was reviewed out of the Toronto International Film Festival. The movie will open in theaters on Oct. 23.
Mashable
