by Tom Ripley is not an usual man in the straightforward sense of the word. Like many people in history, not only artists and actors, but also, sadly, politicians, demagogues and madmen, he has many talents but no qualities. During the 50’s the American Dream was still alive. It was supposed that hard work would eventually and inevitably lead to success. But not for Tom Ripley. He makes a living forging documents, telling lies, pretending to be someone he isn’t while he lives practically like vermin in a New York City apartment that lies beneath street level. It is only by chance that he is thought to have been friends with Dickie Greenleaf while studying at Princeton and hired by a rebuffed father longing for a heir to his throne that Ripley is sent to Italy and paid to encourage Dickie’s return home. And it is by chance too that he learns he can make anyone believe he’s somebody he’s not during the trip, this time Dickie, which forms into habit first, then obsession.
Ripley’s pursuit of happiness, his share of the American Dream in form of the Italian equivalent, the Dolce Vita, and how all those beautiful lies about Dickie’s affairs fall apart, is what Anthony Minghella shows us. A man’s descent to hell that hardly has any qualities of Dante’s Divine Comedy and certainly isn’t supposed to. Ripley’s hell is a personal one and it comes down to the quality he lacks the most: character. It is almost astounding how he tricks himself into the life of Dickie, how he indulges in his lifestyle and how he more and more wants to be like him. The question whether or not Ripley actually had any romantic feelings for Dickie remains debatable. In the light of the events it rather seems that, after he killed him with an oar, Ripley isn’t moaning the loss of love but, being a narcissist, has to fuse himself with Dickie. Ripley assumes his identity and lives off his allowance, moving Dickie to Rome and breaking off his relationship with Marge to fill the gap the playboy doubtlessly would’ve left in the circles Dickie had access to. Tom Ripley though doesn’t leave a gap anywhere but simply disappears – until the fraud threatens to be detected.
This adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s 1955 novel that introduced Tom Ripley as “character” and spawned four more novels is a wonderful cat-and-mouse game with no happy ending. It gives the viewer an idea of a distorted world and leaves several questions unanswered, hence gives the audience a lot to think about. But there are several ways to watch this movie. One possible interpretation is that the often glorified happy times during the 1950’s were merely pretty on the surface and ugly underneath. A lot has been said and written about the slow death of the American Dream during the 50’s and a decaying society, for example in Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates and some of his other novels, and Highsmith here offers us a potential solution to the problem. It is not about reviving the American Dream but finding it elsewhere, in this case the Italian Amalfi Coast, and also the life of someone else. Back in those days a dollar would get you far in Italy and Dickie and his friend Miles, an actual friend he met at Princeton, show us how to make the best of it during their trips to Naples and excessive eating and drinking and listening to jazz. Seeing them enjoy life almost makes you jealous and it is here that the film has the edge over the novel. It visualizes a world that may be fiction and never existed as such, but that is at the same time pretty to look at and even prettier to dream yourself into. After a while you can actually relate to Tom Ripley and why he so desperately wants to be someone else.
The Talented Mr. Ripley is worth your while for its wonderful and, ostensibly, authentic atmosphere alone that proves that everything was more beautiful in the past. Not only the people but also architecture, cars, music, nightclubs – and word processors. In this case, it is the predecessors to the electronic word processors, and one of the most beautiful specimen of all time as well. The few times we see Dickie Greenleaf type a letter at his home he is using a mechanical typewriter that so perfectly fits the scene that it is almost overlooked. It is the secret star in the movie.
Dickie’s weapon of choice is an ocean-blue Olivetti Lettera 22, a portable typewriter designed by Marcello Nizzoli and produced in Ivrea, Italy between 1950 and 1963, when it was succeeded by the Letter 32. It was the model that shaped Olivetti’s identity and exemplified the company’s identity. Not only to typewriter enthusiasts, the Lettera 22 is an icon. In 1959 the Illinois Institute of Technology decided that the Lettera 22 was the best design product of the past 100 years. When you look at it, this is easily understandable. The design is simple but beautiful and the typewriter itself is approximately the size of a conventional sheet of paper. It weighs 8.2 lb, or 3.7 kg, and normally came in a stylish soft case that turned it into the perfect travel companion. Olivetti by that time already had a history producing typewriters that weren’t as big and unsexy as others. Olivettis were beautiful, they spoke directly to any fan of design, art or aesthetics. Many famous authors and musicians used them. The most famous users of the Lettera 22 were probably Leonard Cohen, Gore Vidal, Sylvia Plath and Bob Dylan. Typewriters these days have turned into mysterious, impractical oddities to a digital society, and while some believe they turn their users into better writers this apparently didn’t apply to Dickie, who constantly struggles to get the words out. Those that spotted the Lettera 22 in the film either understood it as part of the complete artwork or they wanted one themselves.
I always thought it would be better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody.
Tom Ripley
Despite its considerable age of 60+ years it isn’t very difficult to find an Olivetti Lettera 22 in working condition and it sure decorates any room. But there’s a catch. A typewriter has to feel good and be in regular use at best but to anyone willing to write a novel the Lettera 22 might prove to be a bad decision. As beautiful as it may be, it doesn’t type very well. This is a common problem with portables as compared to standards and even semi standards, and yet it is a disappointment. It is impossible to write fast on it, not only because it will inevitable slide around the table due to its low weight. The keys simply won’t come back quick enough. Feeding paper proves a challenge because it tends to slant. The 22 even had a pretty rare feature its successor lacked, despite the fact that you could still see the mechanism. Inside the housing was a lever that set key resistance in four grades, which is remarkable but still not enough to turn it into a great typewriter.
It is sad to say this truly iconic typewriter is a disappointment but for anyone willing to actually use a typewriter, Olivetti definitely produced better options. In 1952, two years after the 22, Nizzoli designed the Olivetti Studio 44 together with Giuseppe Beccio. It is a semi standard, which means it is right in the middle between a portable and a standard, or office typewriter. It isn’t as compact and light as the Lettera 22 but it feels significantly better. What is so amazing about Olivetti’s semi standards is that they feel like standard typewriters and offer some of the special characters but weigh approximately half as much. That said, it is heavy as compared to a Lettera 22 but still light and portable. In short, an Olivetti Studio 44 feels so much better when you type that the extra weight is something you gladly put up with if your daily writing exceeds a paragraph. But what’s best about it is that it was Tennessee Williams’ favorite typewriter during the 50’s, when he wrote such masterpieces as Camino Real, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Orpheus Descending.
In 1963 OIivetti presented the Lettera 32, practically a Lettera 22 in a new housing with less features that weighed significantly more. Even though it was and still is used by Cormac McCarthy and some other writers it’s not recommendable because it combines all the shortcomings of its predecessors with more issues, most notably its inferior design. Over the years Olivetti produced several typewriters based on the Lettera 22, for example the Lettera DL and the postmodern design icon Valentine, that is permanently exhibited in many museums around the world, even the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. The Valentine is expensive and should be avoided as a typewriter. It is only useful as design classic. Whether or not that serves any purpose is left to anyone’s personal taste.
If you’re looking for a beautiful typewriter that is so much fun to use your novella will first turn into a novel, then an epic, you should consider one of Olivetti’s semi standards. The Studio 46, designed by Mario Bellini, was developed during the 70’s and resembles a spaceship more than anything else. It combines original, futuristic design with great usability and is a reliable typewriter. The only portable Olivetti made after the Lettera 22 that surpasses it in terms of feel is the Lettera 35, also designed by Bellini. It looks like the Studio 46’s little brother and almost feels like it, and it comes in many different colors, which makes it a bang for the buck model.
It almost sounds ridiculous to take a pass on a classic as beautiful as the Olivetti Lettera 22, that so perfectly displays 1950’s aesthetics, and settle for something made in Spain during the corny 70’s but any serious typist looking for a mechanical companion will be grateful for the warning. In the end, the Olivetti Lettera 22 proved to be the perfect secret star in the movie, since it so closely epitomizes what Tom Ripley and his pursuit of the Dolce Vita was all about.
