“I hate this character,” James Franco said following the Sundance premiere of his new film, True Story. But there’s an undeniable, eerie ease with which he inhabits real-life murderer Christian Longo in the film, a taut cat-and-mouse thriller that premiered at the festival on Friday night. It isn’t Longo’s crimes that ultimately unsettle viewers—although the killings of his wife and three small children, which are detailed later in the film, are horrifyingly gruesome. It’s the psychological ouroboros of a relationship that Longo develops with Michael Finkel, a former New York Times journalist played by Jonah Hill, that is disturbing.
The first feature film from English theatre director Rupert Goold chronicles the strange symbiotic relationship that Longo, a fan of Finkel’s writing, jumpstarts by using Finkel’s name as a criminal alias. Longo happens to catch Finkel’s attention at just the right time, shortly after the journalist was fired from the New York Times for compositing characters. And Finkel, seeking existential answers and professional redemption, approaches Longo with a more forgiving mind than most would have had their name been hijacked by an accused killer. Longo savvily agrees to give Finkel exclusivity to his story in exchange for writing lessons. And a twisted bond forms between prisoner and the bespectacled journalist writing about his evils, not unlike the relationship portrayed by Clifton Collins Jr. and Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote.
Although Hill was not at the Sundance premiere, Franco and Goold, who credited Franco’s “mercurial genius” for the creepy-crawly performance, were. (In what could be the most surprising cameo of the festival, Brad Pitt, who produced the film with his Plan B production company, joined the two to present the drama. Wearing sunglasses inside the dim theater, Pitt stood alongside the director and star in silent, consciously non-scene-stealing support.)
Although a cool conniving criminal might seem like an organic fit for an actor who seems to have an inherent aloofness and permanent semi-smirk on his face, Franco explained that he had a difficult time finding his way into the role.
“As an actor you always want to not judge the character you are playing and identify emotionally or at least find something that you can attach yourself to and believe in,”Franco confessed during the post-screening Q&A. “I found it so hard with [Longo].”
“Even in the court scenes,” Franco said of sequences in which his character describes in grotesque detail how he murdered his family members, “I was kind of distracted, like I was not even thinking about this guy because I hated him so much.” Only after shooting the scenes did Franco realize that his accidental approach actually made sense because “that is exactly how Longo relates to himself. He is so detached from who he actually is.”
And it was not until seeing the film tonight that Franco—who moonlights as an author, poet, and essayist—might have seen something vaguely sympathetic in his character, a cold-blooded criminal who aspires to become a writer. “I'm not justifying what he did,” Franco said, “but that feeling of wanting to write and having to live a life where he didn't achieve his dreams or goals. . . I can understand that need or that longing or desire to create or do something that you love.”
