Got a call last night from Bolivian babe Ingrid for a late dinner in Arlington, afterwhich we adjourned to Shirlington to catch Capote on the semi-big screen.
I'm not one to dispense superlatives willy nilly (or I'd be a movie critic as a rule), but all the buzz you might be hearing about Philip Seymour Hoffman is true; his performance is transcendant -- uhm, not to sound too gay about it.
The favorite scene is the one of the post-"reading" party. The ribaldry seemed genuinely spontaneous even as it was hysterical, or it was improvised and fueled by real alcohol in those glasses (& not the pair on his face). Second favorite is the last interaction between Capote and Perry Smith, played by Clifton Collins, Jr., who shows remarkable range himself.
By all means, do go and see.