Interviews with a sad monster

Rating: 10/10 (18 April 2007)

The name of this film is slightly misleading, in that it suggests an entire life when in fact it is limited to one arc in that life. An important arc, no doubt, and while this powerful and beautifully acted movie gives us an unusually deep experience of that arc, it isn't the story of Capote's life, and so perhaps some other title might be more appropriate, though I don't have any suggestions. It begins with the author's first interest in the Kansas murders of the Clutter family and ends with the completion of the book after the hanging of the killers. So it's a movie about Capote researching and writing In Cold Blood, and this would seem almost superfluous, since the book itself documents the making of the book, except that the portrayal of Capote is so subtle and nuanced. Credit for this must go to Philip Seymour Hoffman in the title role. Hoffman assumes the stance, the voice, the look of his original, and while Capote's thin, affected voice and mannerisms might lend themselves to caricature in a lesser actor, Hoffman uses them as a bridge to Capote's sporadic humanity. Capote's instinct that the Clutter murders would make a good story is borne out; with the help of Harper Lee (Catherine Keener), he gets what he needs from the community, reluctant though they are to deal with somebody of that sort. Especially notable among the townsfolk is Chris Cooper as Alvin Dewey, the detective whose face registers the pain the killings cause him. The acting throughout is superb; indeed, this is one of the best-cast movies I can remember. The killers are like day and night, the shallower, genial Dick Hickock (Mark Pellegrino) and the dark, sensitive, tormented one, Perry Smith (Clifton Collins, Jr.). A bond between Smith and Capote develops, each masking his sense of his own power to manipulate the other, and yet each feeling the connection of mutual experience as outsiders. Capote needs Smith to tell what happened that night, and he resists until practically the eleventh hour. It comes as something of a surprise that he initiated and carried out the killings in a few seconds of rage while "Ricardo" just watched, stunned. Capote has his book, but he must also pay for his connection to Smithhe attends the execution, at Perry Smith's request. At the end of the film one senses the terrible burden of achieving closeness with a condemned man and his crimes, something the film-makers emphasize with the after-titles that say Capote never finished another book. The movie pushes us into the same corner into which Capote found himself pushedwe are torn between wanting to like the killer and our dread of his act. Capote tells Smith he needs to know everything for his book; otherwise, Smith will go down in history as a monster. Smith's story explains everything, the bitterness of abandonment as a child, the hard life he lived, and the sudden rage at a world in which a good man like Mr. Clutter would be afraid of him. Telling Capote about the killings hurts all over again, because the sense of being pushed out of the good world was not allayed by the murders, nor is Smith's pain lessened by confession. So Capote wasn't telling him the truthlying to Smith seems to be something he does easilyfor he portrays Perry Smith as a damaged man, deeply wounded by life. These factors do not extenuate the crime. Smith is still a monster.