The smart new film from director Bennett Miller is not, wisely, a straight
birth-to-death biopic. What the film does do, with rare intellectual rigor, is
arrive at solutions to the problem of adapting Capote himself. It's the author's
sensibility—catty, gifted and maddeningly fickle as he attempts to write In
Cold Blood—that's been fleshed out by Philip Seymour Hoffman in the
year's strangest, most accomplished performance. He's not only made Capote's
high-pitched twitter and mannerisms his own, but burrowed deeply into unnerving
shades of the writer's narcissism and out-and-out selfishness.