Capote. Man and Film--Imperfect but Captivating

Rating: 8/10 (12 October 2005)

Truman Capote (Philip Seymour Hoffman) lied to the people he pursued for stories that made him one of the most laudable American writers of the twentieth century. While the screenwriter (Dan Futterman), director (Bennett Miller), cast and crew of Capote deserve praise for an overall entertaining film, one must wonder if this creative team employed similar, manipulative tactics to please audiences and critics alike. The film does not tell the story of the Kansan family brutally murdered by Richard Hickock (Mark Pellegrino) and Perry Smith (Clifton Collins, Jr.) on November 15, 1959; famed writer and director Richard Brooks accomplished that task in 1967 with Capote's In Cold Blood starring Robert Blake as Smith and Scott Wilson as Hickock. Instead, it tells the story of its namesake who suffered through a self-imposed mission to return the convicted murderers to the realm of humanity. The story is captivating, but it is also rife with details altered from Capote's original account. Hollywood conventions effectively trivialize the life of the author and his work and diminish the credibility of the film and its creators.
Audience members should not limit filmmakers to original texts. Entertainment value typically trumps dedication to an original narrative if the alteration does not interfere with the story's integrity, but one must scrutinize artistic liberties utilized in films that aim to inform as well as entertain. Creative teams should not substitute sentimental falsities for mundane realities. Choices that substantially differ from the reality of a situation must be made with great care and caution. The filmmaker must remember that he or she rewrites history for the masses with each detail that he or she changes, and that these changes cannot be justified simply for dramatic effect. A lack of thoughtfulness cheapens the richness of life that exists outside of the movie projector and disrespects those who lived and died with experiences suitable for the silver screen. One who attempts to capture absolute truth on film will usually fail, but this failure exceeds any attempt that procures cinematic greatness at the expense of humankind.
Capote does not necessarily mislead its audiences or distort the author's memory of events that served as the basis of the novel that followed Breakfast at Tiffany's and became the last work Capote would complete before his death in 1984. All noticeable changes relate to details concerning the Clutter family if Capote's account is to be believed: names of minor but significant characters have been changed, characters' stories have been combined for cinematic efficiency, a sappy last line appears in Nancy's last diary entry, Perry kills all four family members, and the author rather than Sheriff Alvin Dewey (Chris Cooper) receives the murderer's tearful confession. Filmmakers cannot be limited to reality, but they risk losing their audiences' trust with every artistic variation. Name changes and the compilation of characters might have been unavoidable and necessary for practical and legal purposes. Hollywoodisms such as the diary line, a furious rage in which one killer storms through the house killing four helpless victims even though both men pulled the trigger twice, and a tearful confession made to Capote appear from start to finish, however, and they cannot be satisfactorily justified. The writer and director simply did not trust the abundance of character, suspense and tragedy inherent in the Clutter story, and in attempt to create more drama they undermined their credibility and made the Capote story difficult to believe.
Capote finds the Clutter story on the front of the New York Times, travels to Kansas with friend Nelle Harper Lee (Catherine Keener), spends three months interviewing the people of Holcomb and the surrounding area, sympathizes with one of the convicted murders, fights to preserve the Sixth Amendment trial rights of Hickock and Smith after their initial conviction, writes the majority of the novel that he tells people was the "book (he) was meant to write" and one that would be the book of the decade, stops visiting and corresponding with the men, tires of the long and laborious appeals process, and finally attends their executions after a near-catatonic and pathetic experience of self-pity due to the impending doom of his literary subjects. The story follows the basic plot. Capote's eccentricities, effeminate mannerisms and speech patterns are illuminated. One sits in the audience wondering how Nelle Harper Lee of To Kill a Mockingbird fame tolerated her miserable and egoistic companion with such patience, and also fully comes to understand why he ultimately dedicated this labor of obsession "with (his) love and gratitude" to her and also to his patient lover, Jack Dunphy (Bruce Greenwood). The characters and relationships seem real, but only as real as any Hollywood creation. If the creative team allowed significant changes to one storyline, one might easily assume they did the same to enhance all others.
While entertainment value arguably trumps informative value in this film, one cannot fairly criticize its shortcomings without giving credit where credit is due. Futterman told an incredibly paced story with powerful dialogue and memorable images. Miller skillfully directed a talented cast and, as did Capote, subtly developed the murderers into sympathetic human beings despite their faults and horrendous deeds. One cannot point to a weak-link in the cast, but Hoffman unquestionably delivers the most notable performance by capturing the stereotypes that formed a reputation Capote both loathed and purposely exacerbated with his caustic attitude, mannerisms, and oftentimes inexcusable behavior. Capote could not handle criticism. He could not handle situations that he could not control. He was ultra-effeminate. He was ultra-vain. He was Capote, and Hoffman embodied his persona with perfection.
One may lament the use of Hollywood devices and the inability to fully trust this film, but it deftly captures the essence of Capote's curiosity, torment, extreme vanity, eccentricity, perseverance, devotion and retreat, desire to be loved, and gradual descent into perpetual misery and alcoholism. Capote cannot escape deserved criticism, but neither can it escape its deserved status as of one of the year's best films.