After an anxious week of waiting, my copy of the Moonbase 3 DVD arrived from Britain. I'd only known the series by reputation and until recently I'd thought the tapes were lost in the Great BBC Purge, so I couldn't wait to pop the first disk into the player. Naturally, this meant that the wife and I ended up watching Capote on the cable instead.
I must admit that I found Capote a very well-made film. Translated, that means that the cinematography was painfully self-conscious, the direction had "Look at me! I'm an artist!" written across it in bold letters, and I couldn't follow the plot or dialogue for five minutes without expending a lot of needless concentration. This is a pity, as the story of Truman Capote's writing of In Cold Blood is a fascinating episode of human depravity being exploited by egotism that wouldn't be seen again until the latest series of Big Brother. Still, Philip Seymour Hoffman certainly deserved his Oscar for his portrayal of Capote, which was completely believable even though he looks nothing like the little twerp, and I was tremendously impressed by the searing heteroerotic subtext that the permeates the film.
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