Capote” was easily one of the most captivating films of the year, incorporating many issues other Oscar-nominated pics spent their entire two hours exploring less interestingly. The racial tensions between murderer Perry Smith and investigator Alvin Dewey made the racial conflict in “Crash” seem piecemeal and trite.

Truman Capote’s homosexuality served more as a subtle backdrop for exploring his character than them queers in “Brokeback Mountain,” who beat the agony of their repressed sexuality into your skulls (or Jake Gyllenhaal’s … too tasteless?). And as a biopic, the plot is a hell of a lot more interesting than “Walk the Line.”

The only problem with making a biographical movie about Truman Capote is that it has to feature an impersonation of Truman Capote. All the Academy members who will vote to give Philip Seymour Hoffman the award for Best Actor would be lying if they said they didn’t cringe a bit when they realized that Hoffman would, in fact, talk like that through the entire film. Think of the thinnest, lispiest voice you can imagine, then imagine Richard Simmons speaking with it after being kicked in the balls, and Capote’s voice is still more obnoxious. Yet still somehow less annoying than Matt Dillon.