Although I usually agree with your movie reviews (in spirit if not always in specifics), on this one I must disagree. I think that Capote actually had two points. The first is that of a man grappling with conflicting emotions regarding his relationship with a killer. Capote is, I think, simultaneously attracted and repelled by his subject. The repulsion for obvious reasons at first, but for more complex reasons toward the end. The attraction because of Capote's desire for attention, which initially Perry gives him, and then which the rest of the world gives him as a result of his exploitation of Perry. He comes full circle as he realizes how he's using the man and his story to further his own ambitions.

The second point, I believe, is the obvious point regarding the juxtaposition of the violence of the killings with the violence of the death penalty and whether we as a society should engage in that level of violence. The pacing of the film deliberately mirrors those two things. Up until the final 20 minutes, you never really know if Perry Smith participated in the murders or not. You certainly think that he had, but you don't know. Similarly, you don't know if he's going to be executed. You think that he probably should be, but you don't know if he will or will not because the appeal is still up in the air until the very end.

I think that there's an additional factor that plays into this that you and I are of the wrong generation to fully connect with (yes, I know it's grammatically a poor sentence). Truman Capote was a phenomena in the 60's and 70's, especially among the East Coast intelligensia/New Yorker magazine crowd. He published "In Cold Blood" and then basically stopped. This film, I think, also explores a series of potential reasons why he stopped.

Dave: I think that Capote actually had two points. The first is that of a man grappling with conflicting emotions regarding his relationship with a killer. Capote is, I think, simultaneously attracted and repelled by his subject.

I never got the sense that Capote was repelled by Smith. For most of the film, it seems that the only thing that Capote feels toward him is selfish desire: he wants this man's story and will do anything to get it. The most important thing to him is his book. Capote is using Smith, and lies to him and manipulates him in order to get what he wants. He doesn't treat Smith as anything other than an object, a game that must be played and won in order to obtain the desired rewards.

It is true that near the end he seems to reach some degree of attachment toward his subject, but I never felt like I knew why. I also felt like it was never sincere, despite the crocodile tears. If he truly felt some connection to Smith, he would have continued to fun the appeal process. He didn't. As soon as he had what he came for — the story of what happened on the night of the murders — Capote dropped his support. Perhaps this isn't just a script failure, but an acting failure. Perhaps Hoffman didn't do as good a job as I'd like to credit him.

The second point, I believe, is the obvious point regarding the juxtaposition of the violence of the killings with the violence of the death penalty and whether we as a society should engage in that level of violence.

I don't know if this is actually present. The film never engages in this theme explicitly, of course, and I tend to doubt that it exists even on any sort of subtle level. It's true that we never know for sure that Smith and his partner comitted the crimes, but we're never led away from this conclusion even for a single moment. The pair never deny that they shotgunned four people. They never express remorse (except at the bitter end). No other possible suspects exist. Everything in the film points to these two as the murderers, and, in fact, they did kill this family in cold blood. For forty dollars. Perhaps Capote's book explains their motives and backgrounds more fully, but we're never given any of this in the film, and as a result we just don't care about the characters. I didn't sympathize with Smith. He'd had a hand in killing four human beings. Kill the fucker!

Perhaps the film walks on one side of a fine line: perhaps it doesn't want to be in-your-face about its message, and so it keeps it so subtle that brutes like me cannot detect it. (As opposed to last year's Million Dollar Baby, which walks on the other side of the fine line, and puts its message directly in your face so that you cannot possibly miss it.)

I think that there's an additional factor that plays into this that you and I are of the wrong generation to fully connect with (yes, I know it's grammatically a poor sentence). Truman Capote was a phenomena in the 60's and 70's, especially among the East Coast intelligensia/New Yorker magazine crowd.

I think this is an excellent point. The film's final epigraph (is that a contradiction) says something about how Capote became the "most famous writer in America". After the film, I questioned this. I find it difficult to believe. It sounds to me like bald hyperbole. He may have been well-known for a short time, but come on: better known than Hemingway (who, admittedly, killed himself midway during this film's events)? More famous than Steinbeck? More famous than James Thurber? More famous than Harper Lee? I hadn't even heard of Truman Capote until late high school or early college.

Ultimately, I respect your position, Dave, but I just didn't get out of it what you did.

I have not seen the movie, but I do feel that the person Truman Capote is caught in the generation gap that you mentioned. As a young adult in the 60&70's, Truman Capote was one of the most famous persons in the world. Note I did not say writer. He was a fascinating, out of my world , weirdo that your generation might think of as Howard Stern. He was one of the very first of gay men that hung their sexuality out for all to see, much like Elton John does today. In a world that had never seen this, it was like he was everywhere.

The interesting thing to me is that they named the movie Capote, and he was never Capote. He was always Truman Capote. Until I read the movie synopsis/review, I would never have guessed that the movie was about Truman Capote. And, yes, I do remember this murder very vividly to this day. It was one of the most horrific crimes of the time....and sadly probably wouldn't raise an eyebrow now.

JD, I think that part of the attraction between Capote and Perry Smith is a sexual attraction, at least on Capote's part. The lingering looks, the fascination with the captured, caged killer/beast and the occasional gratuitous touch, etc. Granted, Truman Capote's sexuality is never paraded in front of us, but it's extremely clear that he's homosexual.

Another facet of Capote's attraction to Smith is his observation that Smith is Capote. Smith went out the back door while Capote went out the front. They have (according to the movie) similar backgrounds and the like, but their lives took completely different directions. For Capote, looking at Smith is like looking at his darker, mirror image. Both exploit those around them, both appear to have significant intellects, both similar prior history, childhoods, and social backgrounds, yet Capote did something different. Their contrast is in the fact that Capote is the epitome of the modern, urbane, effete, intelligencia, East Coast homosexual. Smith, however, is a throwback to brutality, uncultured and cunning. He's exactly what Capote could have been but didn't become despite the similarities in their backgrounds.

As to the death penalty issue, I think that you're just simply missing the boat here, JD. The whole movie is about death. It starts with death, it ends with death, the middle bits are all about how you get to the beginning and the end. Although you argue that "no other suspects exist" and that you're never pointed in another direction for any time, why should we be? I hope that you're not suggesting that they're guilty simply because they're the only ones that the government accused. In the movie the assumption is that they killed the family, but at no point does the film go into any serious explaination as to their guilt until the very end. Similarly, the appeal is given significant weight as though it may in fact overturn their conviction. Finally, there's the fact that the killers never admit that they were the ones that killed the family. In fact, they deny it until the confession to Capote.

Candidly, the fact that the film does not go into the evidence or mechanics of the killings until the very end tells me something about what the director wanted us to consider prior to that point. He didn't want us to consider the killings. Rather, he wanted us to consider the two men- Capote and Smith- and what their relationship is to each other and the rest of the world. It's not a question of whether Smith killed, or how he killed, it's a question of what factors in his background mean that he could have killed. At what point does he diverge from Capote?

In addition, you claim that you cannot see the parallels. Here's some for you. The confession of Perry Smith is directly juxtaposed to his hanging and the tension inherent in both scenes is created the same way. In his confession he talks about how he (psychologically) tortures the clearly distrought family with the possibility of safety while presenting them with death, then kills them. His death is preceeded by the period where he's clearly distraught, the possibility of reprieve by the Court of Appeals, by the governor or something else all hanging in the balance. His obvious terror (exactly like the family's terror) right before the lever is pulled.

Add to that then, the fact that Smith is clearly conflicted over his actions (after he confesses), just as Capote is clearly conflicted over his own actions. At the end, the thing that separates Capote from Smith is that Smith probably doesn't see the parallel between his actions and the actions of the state in executing him. Capote does, although he may well recognize too that such is the price we pay for living in a civilized society. And it seems to me that in that distinction is the difference between the front and back doors to which Capote refers.

Dave: I think that part of the attraction between Capote and Perry Smith is a sexual attraction, at least on Capote's part.

Interesting. It didn't occur to me while watching the film, but I can see that now, I guess.

Another facet of Capote's attraction to Smith is his observation that Smith is Capote. Smith went out the back door while Capote went out the front.

Yes, I liked this imagery, and hoped that the script would explore it further, but it never did. How are they similar? Why does Capote feel that they're like twins? What does it mean to him? We don't get any of that, and I think it would have helped. It's possible to explore this theme more within the subtle, understate nature of the film. I'm not asking for things to be obvious, just not completely oblique.

I hope that you're not suggesting that they're guilty simply because they're the only ones that the government accused.

No, I'm arguing that the film and the story want us to accept their guilt because they never provide us with any other alternative. In fact, everything in the film points to their guilt. We're never given any alternative than to believe that these two committed the murders. That part is never in doubt.

Finally, there's the fact that the killers never admit that they were the ones that killed the family. In fact, they deny it until the confession to Capote.

My memory says that this is incorrect. I can't remember a single instance that the film in any way (including through these characters) tries to cast a shadow of a doubt that they're guilty. I can't recall either character saying that he was innocent. Am I mistaken? (I may very well be.)

Candidly, the fact that the film does not go into the evidence or mechanics of the killings until the very end tells me something about what the director wanted us to consider prior to that point. ... It's not a question of whether Smith killed, or how he killed, it's a question of what factors in his background mean that he could have killed.

If the director wants us to consider this, he does a poor job of leading us in that direction. Or, actually, I feel the screenplay does a poor job. We're given only a few insights into Smith's background, and only a little of Capote's (again, most of my knowledge of his nature is drawn on what I know of Dill in Mockingbird). Based on what you saw in the movie, what factors in Smith's background do you believe led him to kill?

I think your examples of parellelism are stretched, though there is a thread of substance there. (For example, Smith doesn't seem "in obvious terror" before he is to be hanged; he seems calm and accepting. He can't remember what his last words were going to be, but that's it.)

Though your arguments add some to my evaluation of the film, they don't add a great deal. As I said, I thought that most of its components were exceptional, but that the script was lacking. I still feel this way. I wanted to care about the characters and the situations, but I did not.

For the curious, I would give Capote a B (an A+ in everything except script, which gets a C- or so) and King Kong a D. I'd give an A- to Crash, the other film I mentioned above.

I should add that the writer part of me wanted more about the writing process. There's a great deal in this story, and in Capote's concept of the "non-fiction novel", that goes to my delineation between truth and Truth. (Or, to couch it in the curren lingo, the difference between 'factiness' and 'truthiness'.) I wanted to see more of that. I wanted to see more of the hard decisions Capote had to make. I wanted to see more about the 'In Cold Blood' title thing — we get a little bit of it, but when Smith confronts Capote about it, it's dismissed and the film moves on. I think one of the fundamental problems was that Capote was such a renowned liar. This is clearly portrayed in the film, too, and it makes it difficult to discern his actual motives. Is he being honest with Smith? With Nelle Harper? With his editor? With his lover, Jack? Does Capote even know? Without a firmament, our perspective is unsteady.

To help give me additional perspective, I've been reading reviews from Roger Ebert, Owen Gleiberman, David Denby, and other reviewers.

I guess ultimately what I need is more of the pieces filled in for me. Call me opaque, but I need to know something of Capote's past, or something of his future, in order for this film to be successful.

"...parallel parking on the left side of the street (a skill analogous to writing with your left hand if you're right-handed: it's do-able, but not prettily)..."

I love being able to do this, since I live in a neighborhood full of one-way streets. I think left is easier for me than right because I am closer to the two cars that I am trying to avoid hitting.

Haven't seen Capote yet. I'm just boggling on the fact that we were probably at the Fox Tower at the same time you were. We saw Brokeback Mountain.

Both Infamous and Capote leave out the poor murdered family. In the book, the clutters are mentioned often--Nancy and Kenyon with 4-H, baking a pie, in a school play, she has a boyfriend. Mr. Clutter isn't even shown on his ranch doing fieldwork, wheat work, or cattle work. One film