It’s got Naomi Watts, Chloë Sevigny and Demi Moore, plus Tom Hollander as a deliciously evil Truman Capote. It’s got style to die for and supreme scandal. So how is the new series from king of camp Ryan Murphy such a dud?
What. The hell. Happened? You’ve got writer, raconteur and bon vivant Truman Capote. You’ve got his Swans, the impossibly rich and glamorous socialites of 50s, 60s and 70s Manhattan he befriended – which means you’ve got 50s, 60s and 70s Manhattan to play with too – and you’ve got the fabulous feud between them that erupted when he inexplicably, publicly, irretrievably betrayed them. You’ve got a cast to die for. Tom Hollander as Capote, Naomi Watts, Diane Lane, Chloë Sevigny and Calista Flockhart as the Swans (and Demi Moore as “peafowl at best” according to Capote, always as vicious as he could be charming, with Molly Ringwald and Treat Williams in the mix too). Gus Van Sant directs most of the eight episodes. And executive producing the whole thing (adapted by playwright Jon Robin Baitz from Laurence Leamer’s book Capote’s Women: A True Story of Love, Betrayal, and a Swan Song for an Era) is Ryan Murphy. His list of hits includes Nip/Tuck (Grey’s Anatomy on crack), Glee (Glee on crack), the American Crime Story anthology that gave us the bingeable but astute The People v OJ Simpson and The Assassination of Gianni Versace, 12 gloriously bananas seasons of American Horror Story (Murder House, Asylum, Coven, Freak Show – need I go on?) All of which have rightly established him as the high priest of camp television.
His latest endeavour, Feud: Capote vs the Swans, should be the perfect companion piece to yet another Murphy hit – 2017’s Feud: Bette and Joan, which had Susan Sarandon and Jessica Lange taking lumps out of each other and the scenery as they played out the lavishly baroque hatred between screen legends Davis and Crawford. And yet it is a dud. Albeit a dud that opens well, with Capote rushing to the rescue of his favourite Swan Babe Paley (Watts), who has discovered the latest of her serially unfaithful husband Bill’s (Williams) affairs via the mistress deliberately leaving menstrual bloodstains all over the marital bed and upholstery. Capote administers Valium, scotch and advice to turn her pain and Bill’s guilt into the acquisition of a Gauguin that Princess Margaret has her eye on. Soothed, she drifts off to sleep by his side.
