"Infamous" makes a name for itself

The tragedy that has befallen "Infamous" is a rare one: The movie follows just over a year behind "Capote," the Oscar-winning bonanza whose plotline was not just similar to "Infamous," but nearly identical. This presents a seemingly insurmountable challenge for the film, namely, to top its predecessor so decisively as to rid movie-goers of the notion that they can skip this rehash of last year's widely acclaimed biopic. Somewhat miraculously, "Infamous" actually does manage to tell the now-familiar story in a uniquely affecting way, and with even more style and pizazz. The film, like "Capote," drops into the fabulous life of writer Truman Capote (Toby Jones) as he stumbles across and then latches onto the news of the horrific murders of a well-liked small-town family in Kansas, which eventually becomes the basis for his best known work, "In Cold Blood." He unapologetically forces himself on the quiet residents of Holcomb, pumping them for information, and the locals reluctantly warm to his somewhat ridiculous charm.

Refreshingly, the movie doesn't take itself too seriously to see the humor in the juxtaposition of ultra-cosmopolitan Capote with the rural town. Where "Capote" underplayed Capote's utter flamboyance, "Infamous" celebrates it, and depicts the man in all his fur-wearing, limp-wristed glory, even making a running gag out of straight-laced Kansans mistaking him for a woman. At a particularly silly Christmas party, Capote wonders aloud whether he's the only one in the room who enjoys a good shawl. Moments like these are what set "Infamous" apart from "Capote": Capote is established early on as a likeable character, despite his high-society lifestyle, grating high-pitched voice and condescending attitude towards everything.

The mood turns appropriately somber once the killers, Perry Smith (Daniel Craig) and Dick Hickock (Lee Pace), are caught and incorporated into Capote's life. Capote takes great pains to depict them as three-dimensional characters, getting to know and like them in the process, but ultimately realizes that his book can only have one perfect ending: their execution.

The coincidental close releases of "Capote" and "Infamous" are especially unfortunate for Toby Jones, whose excellent performance will undoubtedly be compared endlessly to that of Philip Seymour Hoffman, winner of last year's Oscar for Best Actor for the same role. Although the two are similar in many respects (after all, they're the same person), they must be viewed in the contexts of two different movies. Because of the humor and self-mockery of this film's first act, Jones's Capote is flawed but ultimately more sympathetic, making the conflict that plagues him as he struggles between his need for a good novel and deep connection with Smith all the more poignant.

Though he takes a back seat to Jones, Daniel Craig holds his own as well. Even at his calmest and most collected, Craig doesn't let us forget that Smith is a deeply disturbed man, staring unsettlingly at the camera as he dictates letters to Capote. He becomes truly scary at the rare moments when he erupts into rage, sometimes without provocation. Craig, who, despite a long and varied filmography, is not well-known in the U.S., here presents himself as a versatile, nuanced actor, which bodes well for his upcoming stint as James Bond (even if he is blond).

The most famous name in the movie may be Sandra Bullock's, who chopped off her hair to play Capote's best friend, "To Kill a Mockingbird" author Harper "Nelle" Lee. Bullock makes a lot out of what could have been a largely unmemorable role. Though she's rarely the center of attention, her winning smile and earnest honesty elevate her to perfection.

Capote's goal in writing "In Cold Blood," as he tells us, was to create a non-fiction novel: a piece of journalism with the evocative language and three-dimensional characters of a work of fiction. "Infamous" takes a similar approach to the true story it tells, and it works — for the most part. There are times, though, when it seems to forgive a little too much of the characters, especially Smith. The viewer becomes almost completely sympathetic to him, perhaps too much so for comfort considering that he was a cold-blooded killer.

Despite a shaky start including a completely arbitrary five-minute appearance by Gwyneth Paltrow as a lounge singer, the film settles into a comfortable pace, and deftly avoids the slow and boring pitfall that many other all-talk-no-action dramas stumble into. The refreshing candor of "Infamous" sets it apart from the otherwise similar "Capote," and its affable nature gives it a leg up to rightfully claim its title as the definitive biopic to see.

"Infamous" (110 minutes, playing at the Avalon) is rated R for language, violence and some sexuality.