Hoffman gives an uncanny, well-modulated turn as Truman Capote with Oscar-worthy aplomb
In 1959 a brutal murder in rural Kansas proved to be an eye-opening and career launching journey for journalist cum author celebre Truman Capote (Philip Seymour Hoffman giving a deft, smart performance) by finding unlikely inspiration with one of the killers, Perry Smith (Collins equally good), in his ultimate literary triumph, "In Cold Blood", launching a new style in writing: the non-fiction novel.
Capote, a freelancer for The New Yorker, finds his next article while reading the unspooling case of the slaying of a family in Kansas while reading about it on the front page of The New York Times. What he doesn't anticipate is the compelling need to write more than a few pages for the periodical; it becomes a feverish desire to become a source for his new book and the end results prove to be prophetic (and perhaps an aura of doom that would permeate the author until his untimely death due to alcoholism in 1984).
Enlisting his life-long friend and fellow writer destined for greatness, Harper Lee (the always welcome Catherine Keener, the voice of reason here), to tag along to coax the local Midwesterners out of their righteously ensconced shells to poke out a story the two quickly discover the grisly homicides are grist for history. Welcoming them is local sheriff Alvin Dewey (the underused but still affective Chris Cooper), a no-nonsense yet fairly justified type who makes swift resolution in finding the two men who broke into the Clutter household and killed the four family members with shotgun malice.
It is here that Capote finds himself bewitched by the quiet yet smarter than he appears Perry, the more avuncular of the two criminals who confides in him as much as he sees fits - adding some tension down the line when Capote realizes the material he has is voluminous for his proceedings which ultimately (and unexpectedly) has Capote befriending the duo and perhaps a sort of grotesque bond with Perry more so than the cipher Richard Hickok (Mark Pellegrino).
Capote's companion Jack Dunphy (Bruce Greenwood), a fellow scribe, is concerned that his mate may be getting into some dark waters that may consume his passion for the page yet Capote remains fascinated with the feral Perry to the point it mimics a moth to the flame: someone is bound to be burned in the process.
Based on Gerald Clarke's biography of the author and adapted by actor Dan Futterman (best known for his role on TV's "Judging Amy" and co-executive producer with Hoffman), his novice screenplay manages to capture lightning in a bottle with Capote a catalyst for some chilling moments of self-aggrandizing and getting caught up in his hyperbole for the literati cosmopolitan set of Manhattan juxtaposed with the funeral landscapes of the barren countryside of the cold Kansas climes (coolly interpreted by cinematographer Adam Kimmel in its shroud-like blue-greys).
Director Bennett Miller's sophomore effort here (his first is the indie docu "The Cruise") allows his character driven story to move things along with cause affect but is a bit listless and dry with some decidedly slow and boring pacing but still achieves a well documented biopic without the trappings usually associated with the genre (i.e. making the protagonist a glorification; if nothing else it is a warts-and-all depiction). The juxtaposition of the cocktail party environs of the hoi polloi of NYC to the blunt trauma of the Midwest is jarring to say the least like a shock of ice water to the system.
Hoffman truly gives an uncanny and Oscar-worthy performance channeling the famed author with dexterity and deftness incorporating his infamous child-like, lispy croak/whisper of a voice suggesting a recently burned tongue and a on the verge of going to sleep demeanor and captures the wit and humor as well as the arrogance of his craft (at a public reading of his first galleys of the book he asks his publisher William Shawn (Bob Balaban) if Tennessee Williams was pleased and when he's assured he laughs like a child told Santa is coming solely for him. Hoffman, one of our most underrated actors of my generation, has always been a favorite and fast becoming a Gene Hackman in the sense he is ubiquity is only surpassed by his talent which looms large in the seemingly shrunken chameleon affectation of Truman Capote, a man gift of gab and perhaps suspect in morality.
Film Rating: 3 out of 4