Almost Famous:
A Review of Sandra Bullock in Infamous

by Tony Phillips

The opening champagne pop cues a dizzying ride as writer/director Doug McGrath recreates the tumult behind the creation of the last century’s greatest nonfiction work In Cold Blood. McGrath’s Truman Capote, played here exquisitely by Brit newcomer Toby Jones, slices, dices and juliennes better than any Cuisinart. Comparisons to Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Oscar-winning turn as the fey writer are inevitable, but let’s just say Jones’ mincing makes Hoffman look like Schwarzenegger.

And straights get two movies all the time — bugs, asteroids, etc. — why can’t we gays have two unique takes on what’s essentially the same script? Sigourney Weaver as ‘50s clothes horse Babe Paley alone is raison d’etre for a second look. And sure, there are missteps: Sandra Bullock’s Harper Lee resembles a talking pancake and forget the Klutter family murder, Gwynnie’s reported 3.6 million for 3.6 minutes warbling ala Peggy Lee is the real crime here. Still, Infamous is the year’s first masterstroke. Now can we please get to Capote: Act II so Los Angeles can get some face time? I, for one, can’t wait to see him lying face down on Joanna Carson’s Bel-Air lawn.