True Story: Murder, Memoir, Mea Culpa
by
Michael Finkel (Goodreads Author)
3.87 · Rating details · 4,541 ratings · 510 reviews
In the haunting tradition of Joe McGinniss's Fatal Vision and Mikal Gilmore's Shot in the Heart, True Story:
Murder, Memoir, Mea Culpa weaves a spellbinding tale of murder, love, and deceit with a deeply personal
inquiry into the slippery nature of truth.
The story begins in February of 2002, when a reporter in Oregon contacts New York Times Magazine writer Michael
Finkel with a startling piece of news. A young, highly intelligent man named Christian Longo, on the FBI's Ten Most
Wanted list for killing his entire family, has recently been captured in Mexico, where he'd taken on a new identity --
Michael Finkel of the New York Times.
The next day, on page A-3 of the Times, comes another bit of troubling news: a note, written by the paper's editors,
explaining that Finkel has falsified parts of an investigative article and has been fired. This unlikely confluence sets
the stage for a bizarre and intense relationship. After Longo's arrest, the only journalist the accused murderer will
speak with is the real Michael Finkel. And as the months until Longo's trial tick away, the two men talk for dozens of
hours on the telephone, meet in the jailhouse visiting room, and exchange nearly a thousand pages of handwritten
letters.
With Longo insisting he can prove his innocence, Finkel strives to uncover what really happened to Longo's family,
and his quest becomes less a reporting job than a psychological cat-and-mouse game -- sometimes redemptively
honest, other times slyly manipulative. Finkel's pursuit pays off only at the end, when Longo, after a lifetime of
deception, finally says what he wouldn't even admit in court -- the whole, true story. Or so it seems. (less)
True Story is a 2015 American mystery drama film directed by Rupert Goold in his directorial debut based on a
screenplay by Goold and David Kajganich. Based on the memoir of the same name by Michael Finkel, the film
stars Jonah Hill, James Franco and Felicity Jones. The cast also includes Gretchen Mol, Betty Gilpin, and John
Sharian.
Franco plays Christian Longo, a man on the FBI's most-wanted list accused of murdering his wife and three children
in Oregon. He hid in Mexico using the identity of Michael Finkel, a journalist played by Hill.[3] The film premiered at the
2015 Sundance Film Festival and was released theatrically on April 17, 2015, in the United States. The film explores
the relationship that develops between the two men after journalist Finkel begins to meet with Longo in prison.
Christian Longo (James Franco), an Oregon man whose wife and three children have been discovered murdered, is
arrested by police in Mexico, where he had been identifying himself as a reporter for the New York Times named
Michael Finkel.
In New York City, Michael Finkel (Jonah Hill) is an ambitious and successful reporter. He is confronted by his editors
about a story he has written which featured on the cover of the New York Times Magazine. They accuse him of using
a composite character as the focus of his story, a violation of basic reporting principles. Finkel briefly attempts to
defend his actions, but he is unsuccessful and is fired. He returns home to his wife Jill (Felicity Jones), and struggles
to find work as a journalist due to his public firing from the Times.
Finkel is contacted by a reporter for The Oregonian, seeking his opinion on Christian Longo's assumption of his
identity. Finkel, who was unaware of Longo's case, is intrigued, and arranges to meet Longo in prison. During their
first conversation, Longo claims he has followed Finkel's entire career and always admired his writing. Longo agrees
to tell Finkel his side of the crimes he is accused of, in exchange for writing lessons and Finkel's promise not to share
their conversations until after the conclusion of the murder trial.
Finkel becomes increasingly absorbed with Longo, who is likeable but evasive about his guilt. Convinced the story
will be redemptive, Finkel visits Longo in prison and corresponds with him for several months. Longo sends Finkel
numerous letters as well as an 80-page notebook entitled "Wrong Turns" which contains what Longo describes as a
list of every mistake he has made in his life. Finkel begins to recognize similarities between Longo and himself, their
handwriting and drawing, and Longo's letters and Finkel's personal journals. As the trial approaches, Finkel grows
increasingly doubtful Longo is guilty of the murders, and Longo informs Finkel he intends changing his plea to not
guilty.
In court, Longo pleads not guilty to two of the murders, but pleads guilty to the murder of his wife and one of his
daughters. Finkel confronts Longo, who claims he cannot share everything he knows, because he has to protect
certain individuals who he refuses to name. Greg Ganley (Robert John Burke), the detective who tracked Longo
down and arrested him, approaches Finkel and claims Longo is an extremely dangerous and manipulative man. He
tries to convince Finkel to turn over as evidence all his correspondence with Longo. Finkel refuses and Ganley does
not press him for an explanation.
At the trial, Longo takes the stand and describes his version of the events in detail. He claims he had, after an
argument with his wife about their financial situation, come home to discover two of his children missing, one of his
daughters unconscious, and his wife sobbing, saying she put the children "in the water". Longo says he strangled his
wife to death in a blind rage. He says he thought his other daughter was dead at first, but then realized she was still
breathing and strangled her as well because she was all but dead. Finkel's wife, Jill, watches Longo's testimony.
As the jury deliberates, Jill visits Longo in jail and tells him he is a narcissistic murderer who will never escape who he
is.
Longo is found guilty of all four charges and sentenced to death. After he is sentenced, he winks at Finkel, who, to his
shock and rage, realizes Longo has been lying throughout their conversations, using him in order to make his
testimony more believable. A short time later, Finkel meets Longo on death row. Longo tries to convince Finkel he
discovered his wife strangling their daughter and then blacked out, so he has no memory of the murders. Finkel
angrily tells Longo he will not believe any more of his lies and will warn the judge, when Longo appeals against his
sentence, of Longo's manipulative nature. Longo retorts by pointing out the success Finkel has had with his book
about their encounters, leaving the reporter shaken.
Finkel reads a section of his book, entitled True Story, at a promotional event in a bookstore. Taking questions from
the audience, he imagines Longo standing in the back of the room. Longo says if he has lost his freedom, Finkel must
have lost something as well. Finkel is unable to respond.
Title cards reveal Longo admitted, a year later, to killing his entire family. Finkel never wrote for the "New York Times"
again, but Longo has contributed articles to a number of publications from death row, including the "New York
Times." The final title card says Finkel and Longo still speak on the first Sunday of every month.
Based on a non-fiction account by one of its subjects, real-life journalist Michael
Finkel, the movie “True Story” spends much of its 90 minutes trying to figure out
just what it is. Murder mystery, journalism exposé, courtroom drama,
metaphysical inquiry into the secret-sharer nature of certain American Bros,
proof that James Franco and Jonah Hill can serious-act opposite one another—it
seems to be going for any one of these at any given moment, and in the end winds
up being not a whole lot more than ostentatiously unpleasant and ugly.
Directed by first-time feature filmmaker albeit apparently well-acclaimed British
stage director Rupert Goold, “True Story” opens with a slow-motion overhead
shot of a teddy bear drooping into an open suitcase and landing next to a child
who’s lying in the suitcase in a fetal position. The child turns out to be one of the
alleged victims of Christian Longo (Franco) who is soon arrested for killing his
entire family—a wife and three kids. Cut to Hill’s Finkel, in Africa at work on a
major story—perhaps his eighth or ninth New York Times Magazine cover gig, he
crows to his wife once he’s back in the States—and he’s getting some of the detail
work wrong, in a way that’s going to bite him in the ass, big time. Exiled from
the Times in disgrace, he retreats to his VERY cozy modern cabin in wintry
Montana and Very Concerned But Fairly Understanding Academic Wife Jill
(Felicity Jones), where he soon hears from an Oregon reporter about a multiple
murderer who had been using Finkel’s identity at the time of his capture in
Mexico. That would be Longo. Intrigued, Finkel requests an interview with the
accused. The accused accepts. He’s a long-time admirer of Finkel’s work, it turns
out. He makes Finkel an offer that any seasoned journalist would admit stinks to
high heaven while at the same time presenting an undeniably potent temptation:
If Finkel will keep the story to himself until after the trial, and “teach” Longo how
to write, Longo will give his story exclusively to the writer whose identity he once
pilfered.
It’s kind of amusing that in a week in which much of the media-engaged real
world is howling in outrage that an instance of journalistic malfeasance
at Rolling Stone hasn’t resulted in a bunch of rolling heads, a movie comes out
that tries to make viewers feel bad about the entirely justified firing of a
newspaper reporter who really did do the stuff he was accused by his bosses of
doing. Man, King Crimson wasn’t kidding about that 21st-Century-Schizoid-Man
condition. In any event, as per the movie’s version of events, Finkel’s eager
acceptance of Longo’s offer makes him look like an opportunist, and then the
movie goes on to make him look like a dumb opportunist. Marveling at the
macabre memoir Longo sends him on legal pad, Finkel is spooked by
correspondences: Longo makes weird drawings in the margins of his pages, just
like Finkel does. Jill raises an eyebrow at this, as one will, but the theme of
Human Duality And Darkness doesn’t get much play. The screenplay, by Rupert
Goold and David Kajganich, means to plant verbal clues here and there that will
pay off big time by the end; suffice it to say that to use the phrase “when the
penny drops” to describe the resultant instances would be to severely overvalue
them. (Also, the writers seem to have a poor grasp of what a “double negative”
actually is.)
The film moves at a relatively clipping pace, but also has a weird sense of
contingency, as if the filmmakers are filling in the required components of this
kind of scenario as they go along. For instance, about an hour into the movie,
when all you’ve seen of Longo is in exchanges between him and Finkel, who’s
trying desperately to milk a book deal out of his investigation of Longo, you’re
liable to think, “Doesn’t this accused killer have a LAWYER? And if so—because
he probably should—why hasn’t Finkel had any contact with him?” And sure
enough, the trial gets underway and yes, Longo DOES have a lawyer. Strangely
enough, it’s about this time in the film that an official investigator, played by
bullet-headed, active-jawed toughie Robert John Burke, leans on doughy,
confused-looking Finkel—better tell what you know, kid, because this Longo’s
trying to pull a fast one on the jury. This might elicit an uh-oh from viewers had
the film presented any evidence that Longo might not be guilty, except it doesn’t.
Finkel thinks he might be innocent, because otherwise all that secret sharer stuff
might mean something scary. But really, he’s the only one. By the time Longo
takes the stand to offer a story so preposterous on its face (not to mention
probably actuarially unprecedented—I thought of Edward G. Robinson’s hole-
punching insurance investigator in “Double Indemnity” and the fun he’d have
with this tale, and also how much I would have preferred to be watching “Double
Indemnity”) that you’re surprised the jurors don’t break up laughing at it—well,
you have to wonder, if this Finkel had almost eight New York Times
Magazine cover stories to his name, how hard can big-time journalism really be?
Given that both Hill and Franco conduct themselves reasonably respectably—I
have to give Franco credit for not going full boogity-boogity Evil Dude with this
character, which had to have been a temptation—the blame for this mess needs to
be laid at the feet of the filmmakers. If this mess is what they ended up with after
erring with the best intentions, I feel bad for them. If this is actually the end
result they were going for, I’d be inclined to use the legal system myself, to file an
injunction against them ever getting near a soundstage again.
