It is interesting two films about Truman Capote writing In Cold Blood came out in the same year, not just because it is a huge bummer for the folks who made the one that didn’t win an Oscar, but because both deal with the vast range of interpretation that can still pass for truth. Both films examine the same time period in the same person’s life, the same events, and the same crisis that Capote faced: his treatment of true events with real people. And both films present very different versions of these events.
“Infamous” stars British actor Toby Jones as Truman Capote, and, as he is less famous than Oscar-winner Phillip Seymour Hoffman, he is better able to disappear into the bizarre little person of Capote, with his spectacular clothing and tiny frame. There are moments of humor and wry lightness in this film, and one of them is that in Kansas, Capote is repeatedly and sincerely referred to as “Ma’am.”
This film also deals much more with Truman Capote’s glittering New York social life, with hints of how his loose lips will eventually be his undoing. We even get a scene in which Babe Paley (Sigourney Weaver) unloads the juicy secret that Capote will later see fit to thinly fictionalize in “Answered Prayers,” the dishy unfinished novel that cost him many of his friends.
The name dropping and parties are a welcome respite from the grim business Capote undertakes in Kansas, interviewing two men who killed the beloved Clutter family for a few hundred dollars. In “Capote,” it is certainly implied that Truman and Perry Smith, one of the killers, developed feelings for one another, but in “Infamous,” these feelings are made much more explicit.
Another notion made very clear in this film is that Truman Capote played fast and loose with the truth in his “true crime” masterpiece In Cold Blood. While “Capote” dealt with the ethical implications of the writer using the criminals for literary fodder, this film levels the accusation that he most definitely made some of it up.
Truman claims to use a special memory technique in lieu of notes, and the film shows him copying down multiple versions of “quotes” from interviews, and then picking his favorite. It is also shows him trying different versions out for various audiences before he gets the line with the best zing.
In the end, I prefer this version of the story. The terrible tension of the events is relieved without the film becoming flippant, and it seems appropriate to show the glittering side of Capote’s life. But what is really fascinating is to consider the two very different tellings of the same supposedly true story, and to witness the profound difference in effect that can result from simply choosing what details to include. While “Infamous” does a better job of examining this conundrum in the creation of In Cold Blood, a viewing of both films is itself an abject lesson in the nature of truth.
“Infamous” is currently available to rent.
Between “American Idol” and YouTube, Andy Warhol’s famous promise of short-lived fame for all of us is coming true these days, but the original famous for just being famous superstar was his protégée Edie Sedgwick. The adventures of this unfortunate beauty make Lindsay Lohan look like Annette Funicello, as brought to life in “Factory Girl” by Sienna Miller, whose own fame seems to have dwindled by the time this flick made it to DVD.
Like Truman Capote, there are many celluloid versions of Andy Warhol to choose from. This one, created by the talented Guy Pierce, is a pasty bloodsucker attracted to the gorgeous, wealthy, damaged Edie because she has so many problems. In his experimental art films, like the omnipresent reality shows of today, Edie and the other players are encouraged to just be themselves and talk about themselves. The poor girl had plenty to tell, having been sexually abused and sent to mental treatment facilities at a young age.
Her taste for pharmaceuticals in no way declined in her tenure as the “superstar” of Warhol’s Factory, and she based in the glow of his adoration and her growing fame. However, her own artistic ambitions fell away as she devoted her time to appearing in Warhol’s films, attending parties and having her picture taken. When her head was turned by the more sensitive and intellectual Bob Dylan, Warhol’s jealousy was unforgiving.
And that’s where this otherwise decent movie lost me, as well. Because there, with a little Dylan afro and glasses, was the odious lightweight Hayden Christensen, fresh from ruining another pop icon in Darth Vader. As usual, his screen presence was whiny and annoying.
On the whole, this was a good-looking and interesting account of the ultimate poor little rich girl, and I can’t think of anyone who would be more pleased with the many competing versions of himself than Warhol, who made art out of copying commercials in multicolored permutations.
“Factory Girl” is currently available to rent.
Contact Asia Frey at afrey@lagniappemobile.com.
Archives
The Reel World
