This movie comes so very very close to being utterly fantastic. We’ll have to settle simply for great. What’s great is my cousin Philip. A totally unique performance, ranging all sorts of personas and emotions and depths and contradictions. I’m one of those obnoxious cineastes who hates to talk about awards but, seriously, dude’s locked himself an Oscar. (Then again, I said the same thing about Paul Giamatti.) Another important plus is the respect Truman Capote shows for Tabasco Sauce. As if being a great writer weren’t enough. What I found disappointing were the depictions of Perry Smith and Alvin Dewey. At first I thought that this was just because I had just read In Cold Blood and, as is almost always the case, films never provide the depth books do. But I don’t think that’s it — especially considering how well Truman is presented in this film and even more because the whole crux of the movie is based on the fact that Truman finds Perry fascinating. The trouble is — Perry, in this film, isn’t all that fascinating. Yeah, he shotgunned four people for no real reason, that makes him ipso facto fascinating, I suppose, but I know (from reading the book) that Truman discovered much more about him. And almost none of it is in the film. Still — a fascinating movie, well told and highly recommended.