Chapter 27 and The Killing of John Lennon would never have gotten made if this man had any chance of parole. However, of the same token neither would they have gotten made if the American justice system wasn't so open to giving killers access to the media, for these movies share as their basis in 'fact' the many interviews granted by Chapman, beginning in '87, as well as the same eyewitness accounts of the assassination. It shows. Certain scenes are done verbatim to the point at which you find yourself wondering if it is the same actor playing that photographer, that doorman, that bystander.
However, there is no possibility of confusing the lead actors for the same man. Jared Leto and his stomach could never be mistaken for Jonas Ball's slimmed down Chapman; nor could either be confused for Mark David Chapman himself. Leto may have enjoyed his couple or three months Zellwegger-to-Bridget-Jonesifying, but it was for little merit. Maybe this reviewer has simply seen too many My So Called Life bootlegged dvds but the transformation wasn't complete. Granted, Leto may have benefitted from being in a better-funded picture, and being closer to the correct poundage, but there was little to differentiate the performances. The needless addition of Lindsay Lohan to Chapter 27 makes the decision (as if there needs to be one made) between the two movies even more difficult. Take it from me that your time would be better spent watching any of the actual Beatles movies than any of the examples of this new sympathy for a criminal/psycho genre. I even found Monster a bit morally objectionable, especially after such a good documentary had already been made about Eileen Wuornos' spree and subsequent plight. Hollywood has always loved violence, and in the last couple of decades it turns out it also loves a killer.
Alex B.
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