Seeing James Franco and Jonah Hill’s names attached to a film
typically means you’re sitting down for a viewing of the latest stoner bromance
from the Apatow troupe of comedy, so it’s probably a bit surprising that their
latest, “True Story,” is actually an earnest drama exploring the murky, elastic
nature of journalistic truthiness. Knowing that, it might surprise you even
more to learn that their performances are not the problem in writer-director
Rupert Goold’s intriguing but curiously lifeless morality play, which floats
some interesting ideas but ultimately doesn’t do much with them.
Hill plays
Michael Finkel, a journalist for The New York Times Magazine whose rising
career is cut short after it’s revealed that he fabricated certain details of
his recent exposรฉ about child slavery in Africa, passing off a composite
character as an actual person. He’s promptly let go from the paper amid a
flurry of shame and disgrace. With the stigma of being a liar now attached to
him, he finds himself a pariah in the journalism world and struggles
to find work.
It’s at this
particularly low point that Finkel learns about a man named Christian Longo
(Franco). Accused of murdering his wife and three young children, Longo was
using Finkel’s name as an alias before being apprehended in Mexico by the FBI.
Finkel decides to visit Longo at the Oregon prison where he’s being held, as
much out of sheer curiosity as out of the sense that it might make a good story
and could become a path to earn back the respect he foolishly squandered.
During their meeting, Longo implies his innocence but isn’t willing to divulge
his story. At least not yet. He claims to be an admirer of Finkel’s work, and
suggests that they make a bargain: Longo will speak only to him, but in
exchange he requests the writer’s assurance that he’ll refrain from publishing
anything he learns until after the conclusion of the trial. Longo also requests
that Finkel give him writing lessons.
The
remainder of the film focuses on the twisty relationship between these two men
as they continue to meet and gradually strike up a friendship of sorts. In
time, Finkel begins to look at the two as mirrors of one another, and both journalist
and subject are skilled in bending and stretching the truth to better suit
their narrative. Finkel, for all his trouble, manages to land himself a book
deal based on his continued conversations with Longo. Goold and co-writer David
Kajganich layer on the similarities, conflating the two men and seemingly
condemning them equal measure by suggesting that their sins are more or less
the same, which is, frankly, nutty and overly simplistic.
Franco and
Hill each deliver strong performances, though it’s odd to see them paired
together and not have the dialogue descend into the realm of dick and fart
jokes. Franco’s projects a sleepy-eyed menace that suits the character, even if
it negates Goold’s attempts to cast a bit of doubt as to whether or not Longo
is truly guilty. Hill plays Finkel as cocky and kind of a dick, but a
completely convincing one. Felicity Jones is also on hand as Finkel’s wife,
Jill, who grows to be the film’s moral compass. At one point Jill visits Longo
on her own, stopping by to give her own frank appraisal of his particular
failings as a non-sociopathic human being. Though it’s possible these visits
actually happened, they feel like the contrived invention of a screenwriter
looking to give the talented actress a juicy moment to make up for stranding
her in the “worried girlfriend” role the remainder of the time.
“True Story”
is the feature debut for Goold, who brings with him a reputation as an
accomplished British stage director. He brings a restrained style to the story,
and though the film avoids feeling stagey, the pacing does occasionally drag,
particularly in the middle act. His script is based on Michael Finkel’s own
memoir, “True Story: Murder, Memoir, Mea Culpa,” which as the title suggests,
it the writer’s self-described atonement for allowing himself to be taken in by
Longo’s lies and being blinded by the desire to further his own career. It’s a
compelling story, and there’s an interesting movie to be mined from the
material, but it doesn’t quite come together.
The film’s
ethical quandaries recall 2003’s “Shattered Glass,” another (much stronger)
study of a journalist of questionable moral character. As is, it probably could
have used more of its characters’ awareness that sometimes it takes skirting
the facts to weave a truly gripping yarn.
This article appears in Apr 8-14, 2015.
