He’s cold, calculating, impeccably dressed, and completely unbothered by morality. And now, he’s trending. Ripley, Netflix’s newest psychological thriller, has taken over the platform—and TikTok—since its release in April 2025. Based on Patricia Highsmith’s 1955 novel The Talented Mr. Ripley, the eight-episode miniseries revives one of fiction’s most iconic con artists for a new generation. And Gen Z can’t get enough of him.
Why are viewers so drawn to a character who manipulates, deceives, and kills without blinking? And what makes Ripley stand out from the long list of morally questionable TV leads? Let’s dive into how this series took over the timeline—and our psyche.
A Familiar Story, Told with New Shadows
You probably know the story. Tom Ripley, a struggling nobody in 1960s New York, is sent to Italy to retrieve the rich and carefree Dickie Greenleaf. But what starts as a simple task unravels into obsession, impersonation, and murder.
While previous adaptations—especially Anthony Minghella’s 1999 film with Matt Damon—gave us a sun-drenched, glossy version of Ripley’s world, Netflix’s Ripley is drenched in darkness. Literally. Filmed entirely in black and white, and directed by Oscar winner Steven Zaillian (The Night Of, Schindler’s List), this version leans into noir aesthetics and psychological tension.
The result? A quiet, chilling slow burn that strips away glamor and focuses on Ripley’s isolation and sociopathy. It’s not action-packed—it’s meticulous, eerie, and dripping with dread.
Andrew Scott’s Ripley: Unhinged But Magnetic
At the center of it all is Andrew Scott (Fleabag, All of Us Strangers), whose portrayal of Tom Ripley is already being hailed as one of the most unsettling—and charismatic—performances of the year.
Scott plays Ripley with a flat affect, icy precision, and just enough vulnerability to keep you unsure of how to feel. He’s not likable. But he’s fascinating. His eyes are always calculating, even when his face says nothing. When he lies, it’s not theatrical—it’s quiet, confident, almost boring. Which somehow makes it scarier.
This Ripley doesn’t care if you understand him. And that, ironically, is exactly why viewers are trying so hard to get inside his head.
Why Gen Z Is So Into It
If you scroll through #Ripley on TikTok, you’ll find countless fancams, aesthetic edits, and memes that romanticize the character—despite, you know, the murders.
Why? Because Ripley taps into themes Gen Z finds compelling: identity as performance, alienation, class envy, and being chronically misunderstood.
Tom is broke, socially awkward, and constantly pretending to be someone he’s not to survive. He hates the rich but also desperately wants their approval. He has no stable sense of self, and his internal monologue (or lack thereof) leaves everything open to interpretation.
Sound familiar? In an age of curated online personas, gig economy precarity, and moral ambiguity, Ripley feels disturbingly relatable—if not aspirational, then at least recognizable.
Style As Narrative
Ripley doesn’t just tell its story through plot—it tells it through style. The black-and-white cinematography is stunning, filled with harsh shadows and elegant framing that make every scene feel like a fine art photograph.
But beyond the aesthetics, the visual style communicates Ripley’s worldview: all contrast, no middle ground. You’re either someone or you’re no one. You fit in or you fake it.
The fashion is also deliberate—Tom starts out in ill-fitting clothes and slowly adopts Dickie’s wardrobe, both literally and symbolically. It’s a subtle costume transformation that mirrors his internal corruption.
A Slow Burn That Pays Off
Critics have praised Ripley for its restrained storytelling, though some viewers used to fast-paced thrillers might find it too slow. But if you let it simmer, the series rewards you with a creeping dread and psychological depth that lingers long after the credits roll.
And unlike other “twisted protagonist” shows, Ripley doesn’t try to redeem its lead. It doesn’t want you to root for him. It just dares you to look away.
A Killer Reflection
Ripley is not your typical true-crime binge or flashy thriller. It’s quiet horror. A study of emptiness. And that’s exactly what makes it so hypnotic.
Andrew Scott’s performance, Zaillian’s direction, and the show’s visual language combine to create a haunting portrait of a man who has nothing—and will become anything to fill that void.
In 2025, we’re no longer shocked by villains. We’re curious about them. And Ripley knows that. It invites us to sit with our discomfort, and maybe even ask: if no one ever knew the truth… what would you be willing to become?
By: Valeria Benavides Velarde
