James Franco in True Story (Fox Searchlight Pictures)

On the heels of HBO’s fantastic The Jinx, the true crime genre is hot right now, and this new drama, co-executive produced by Brad Pitt, is well positioned to fill that void and get people talking. Based on the memoir of the same name by disgraced New York Times reporter Mike Finkel, True Story depicts Finkel (Jonah Hill) forming an unlikely bond with child murderer Christian Longo (James Franco).

The setup is reminiscent of films like Dear Mr. Gacy and The Riverman, but lacking both their pulpiness and genuine creepiness. The tone is more in line with the new wave of vacant, artless, and ultimately unmemorable docudramas such as Rosewater and Kill the Messenger, two recent films also about successful journalists in moral or existential peril. (Obviously, all these films worshipful of journalism as a viable, noble career are period pieces.)

Finkel’s life, career, and downfall as an eminent journalist are covered in the first 10 minutes or so, where we briefly see him in a hut in Africa doing on-the-ground research and playing poker with his colleagues in the beautiful, sun-drenched bullpen of the Times. No sooner has Finkel’s cover story on contemporary human slavery appeared in that week’s New York Times Magazine than he is called into the office by his supervising editor, Karen (a game Gretchen Mol, making the most of her limited screen time).

Finkel’s transgression is having combined traumatic events and experiences into a single character, when in reality the experiences were shared by several individuals. He felt it made for a better story if readers thought all those horrid things happened to a single person. His reasoning was that truth is limited and often dull and should never stand in the way of a good story. If only the filmmakers believed a little of that philosophy.

After retreating to Montana, where his girlfriend, Jill (Felicity Jones), lives in a spacious, contemporary, open-planned log cabin, Finkel receives a phone call asking him his opinion of Christian Longo. Finkel has never heard of him, but he quickly learns that Longo, arrested for killing his wife and three young children, has been using Finkel’s identity while on the lam in Mexico. If Finkel had been riding high in New York, he probably wouldn’t have given this a second thought, but in his unemployed state, he throws himself into the Longo case.

The only reason we learn why Longo calls himself Mike Finkel is that he is a big fan of the journalist’s work. Longo fancies himself an undiscovered writing talent, and he develops a sort of tit for tat with Finkel, where he answers a question in exchange for advice. Longo writes a massive, illustrated memoir, by hand on yellow legal pads with a golf pencil, and Finkel plasters it all over his cabin.

Psychopaths always think they are more interesting than they are, and when a washed-up journalist corroborates his self-aggrandizement, Longo is tremendously satisfied, and Finkel seems to relish the respect Longo has for his mastery of writing. There’s something of a Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling quid pro quo being attempted here. But it’s too rushed and devoid of a legitimately creepy atmosphere, and Longo and Finkel are too similar to even approach that monstrous mastermind vs. earnest crime fighter dynamic.

The story centers on two people having moderately creepy discussions in a realistic, unaffected manner, leading to a long monologue by Longo as a witness at his own trial. These aren’t really performances, they’re stripped down, bare line readings. As a result, the film has the same sort of tonally vacant, story-obsessed, characterization-lite quality of Pitt’s own Killing Them Softly, instead of building a world and lived-in characters. Only it doesn’t have much of a story, either, so it’s like the worst of both worlds.

The movie is chiefly a showcase for Franco to show Longo’s range of emotions and interests. Yet is it really shocking that a murderer has other qualities and isn’t just a rampaging monolithic beast of pure evil? Of course, murderers have multifaceted personalities. They’re people. It was shocking that Ted Bundy seemed so articulate and appealing—40 years ago.

The film’s other main aim is to depict the impact of the Longo association on Finkel and Jill. Unfortunately, we aren’t allowed to spend enough time with the couple to know how it impacts them. What are their values before becoming entwined with Longo’s creepiness? You have to have a sense of who they are in order to register how a new relationship has changed them.

Finkel saw his relationship with Longo as a chance to write a buzzy book and jumpstart his moribund career. Jill has a bit more substance, and in the latter stages she is the only one allowed to have a genuine, seemingly appropriate moral reaction to Longo’s orchestra of creepiness. The film does not hide the fact that Jill is the more interesting, worthwhile character, yet it devotes the bulk of its running time to Finkel, who is at best a cipher, at worst a ghoul.

“Not everyone should have their story told,” Finkel is told at one point. He replies, “Everyone deserves to have their story told.” There are a few other echoes of this sentiment scattered throughout, but why are they telling this story? Whose story is it? Hill plays Finkel as totally focused on writing his book, not really reflecting on why he’s become so obsessed with Longo, and Longo enjoys the attention he’s getting. It’s really Jill’s story, since she’s the only one who takes a firm stand on the events that transpire and undergoes a transformation, but she’s in only a few scenes, making the film seem slighter than it should.

True Story wants to make ambiguity provocative, but there is little uncertainty about Longo’s guilt and Finkel’s motivations (success). The ambiguity is what effect the experience had on Finkel, or on viewers and readers by extension. Should everyone have their story told? What is the price of telling such accounts? You have to give a certain amount of credit to a film that aspires only to raise questions, but one wishes it did a bit more than just that.