While watching the new film “Capote,” a stellar
account of the struggles and successes experienced by writer Truman
Capote during the composition of his seminal book “In Cold
Blood,” I had two revelations.
Revelation No. 1: Philip Seymour Hoffman is one of the most
talented thespians in the business today. After enjoying his
nuanced performance as the flamboyant, troubled Capote, it’s
difficult to imagine anyone challenging him for the Best Actor
Oscar this year. Looks to me like Hoffman is 2005’s Jamie
Foxx.
Revelation No. 2: The author biopic is a genre ripe for further
exploitation. “Capote” illustrates an intriguing fact
about the literary world ““ authors’ own lives are often
as interesting as the work they produce. Sometimes even more
so.
A few author biopics are simply begging to be made ““
hopefully film executives are reading. After a summer full of
not-quite-masterpieces like “Stealth” and “The
Dukes of Hazzard,” it would be great to see a few more
“Capotes.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald: I think Fitzgerald is the coolest author
ever. No one even comes close. A literary sensation by his 23rd
birthday, he was hailed as the voice of the Jazz Age, his prose
possessing the subtle beauty of a Charlie Parker saxophone
solo.
Gallivanting around the world with his stunning wife Zelda,
Fitzgerald’s lifestyle, much like his writing, captivated the
imagination. At his peak, he could do no wrong.
But alas, life intervened. As book sales plummeted,
schizophrenia plagued Zelda and booze grew increasingly
irresistible. Fitzgerald experienced a precipitous decline that
illustrated the prescience of his oft-quoted insight, “Show
me a hero, and I will write you a tragedy.”
His earnest but unsuccessful struggle against misfortune would
make a remarkably touching film. I see Viggo Mortensen as the
tormented Fitzgerald, futilely drawn to glorious yesterdays.
Renee Zellweger has the squinty eyes and acting talent to
successfully capture the essence of his burdened, beautiful wife
Zelda. And with backdrops such as the New York jazz clubs of the
roaring ’20s and the French Riviera, the film could make an
impressive visual, as well as emotional, impact.
Allen Ginsberg: Ginsberg, one of the premier poets of the Beat
Generation, was a true original.
Or, as my eloquent flatmate Dan, a rabid poetry enthusiast,
phrased it, “Ginsberg is (synonym for fornication, beginning
with the same first letter) crazy, fool!”
His lengthy career offers many intriguing moments ““
touring with Bob Dylan, partaking in the Berkeley anti-war protests
of the ’60s, and founding The Jack Kerouac School of
Disembodied Poetics.
However, I think it is his earliest years as an artist, when he
was still striving to find his voice, that would make a uniquely
charming film.
Jason Schwartzman, of “Rushmore” and “I Heart
Huckabees” fame, already has great experience playing the
intelligent yet confused eccentric.
Ginsberg’s story is a creative odyssey that includes a
landmark obscenity case, several love triangles, and ““ in a
moment made for a biopic ““ a confrontation with a heckler at
one of his readings when he walks down to the audience, removes all
his clothing, and proclaims, “The poet stands naked before
the world.” Do I sense an Oscar clip?
Franz Kafka: Kafka remains one of the great enigmas in world
literature. Each year, his writing confounds thousands of readers
facing “The Metamorphosis” or “The Trial”
for the first time.
Attempts to describe his work, style and themes have only
resulted in the ambiguous term “Kafka-esque” and many
furrowed brows. What’s so intriguing to me are not his life
experiences ““ fairly ordinary, as he was an insurance company
employee who wrote as a hobby ““ but rather how his apparently
normal existence left him with a uniquely bleak perspective.
Why was the world such an oppressive place for him? His biopic
would attempt to find some answers.
There is only one man in the world who could do Kafka justice,
and that is Woody Allen. Allen’s affinity for the writer is
evident in roles he has already played on screen ““ “Oh,
sex with you is really a Kafka-esque experience,” his date
declares to a perplexed Allen in the classic “Annie
Hall.”
“My one regret in life is that I’m not someone
else,” Allen once remarked. If anyone could capture the
pessimism and anxiety that characterizes Kafka’s personality,
it would be Allen. Both seem mired in an inescapable ennui,
alienated from their fellow man and frustrated by the seeming
absurdity of day-to-day affairs.
And both articulated these bleak realities in the most hilarious
of ways. Imagine Allen, as Kafka, attempting to sell “The
Metamorphosis” to his publisher:
“Well, it’s about a man who wakes up one day as a
bug,” Allen would begin, with his characteristic nervous
stammer and frantic gesticulation.
“A bug?”
“Yeah, and then for the rest of the story he tries to deal
with it. His metamorphosis. I see it as … emblematic of the
struggle all humanity must endure.”
“Humanity is a bug?” the publisher would exclaim
incredulously, as Allen fidgeted in his seat.
Kearns is prone to disrobe and shout, “The columnist
stands naked before the world” when his editor attempts to
remove literary references from his articles. E-mail him at
bkearns@media.ucla.edu.