Great performance from Philip Seymour Hoffman as the conflicted yet relentless writer trying to turn a murder-massacre into a bestseller. This is a Brando-as-the-Godhfather class start turn in my humble opinion.
William Burroughs once opined that Jack Kerouac the all American boy from Lowell was faally undermined and manipulated by a "spy in his body" called "Jack Kerouac the writer". It is the same with Capote, Truman wants to help accused killer Perry Smith but ultimately he needs to produce a book with an appropriate ending...ergo a hanging. To that end he ruthlessly extracts a nominal confession from Smith and then ignores his pleas for a lawyer to write their commutation appeal to the Supreme Court.
Truman needs an ending, the writer-spy in his body cannot be denied or placated.
I like films that question art & artists in this way...we tend to fall into easy cliches about thr redemptive power of art forgetting that it easily demands wretchedness and duplicity on the road to be a cafe success and the Pulitzer Prize.
See it, Humble john recommends it!