Truman Capote's core creative life was brief, peaking between the jolly novella Breakfast At Tiffany's (1958) and the genre-influential "nonfiction-novel" In Cold Blood (1965).

Blocked by drugs and drink, he spent two decades not writing a masterpiece, Answered Prayers, although magazine publication of early chapters led to ostracisation by socialites who found the novel not nonfiction enough.

But, in the 42 years since his death, far more has been written about him than he wrote, including the movies Capote and Infamous, a much-toured solo show by Bob Kingdom and a season of the TV series Feud dramatising the fallout from the writer fictionalising rich friends.

These authorial autopsies began with Tru, a 1989 Broadway show by Jay Presson Allen, now revived in London by Jesse Tyler Ferguson, familiar from 11 seasons of Modern Family on TV and a sparky recent Palladium turn as Herod in Jesus Christ Superstar.

Paul Farnsworth's design is less set than installation, making the whole Menier a convincing recreation – carpet, wallpaper, ceiling tiles, books and antiques – of Capote's New York apartment. The audience sits on dining chairs or armchairs and sofas, with Tyler Ferguson speaking from a library ladder and singling out theatregoers for lines.

The modern theatrical trend for rhetorical questions to be answered aloud results in Capote's "Have you ever thought about killing someone?" receiving a vehement "Yes!"

An 85-minute monologue – except for a few danced and spoken punctuations by Charlotte d'Amboise as various Capote women – is a feat of varied pacing and intonation that Tyler Ferguson immaculately judges.

The title Tru has a silent e and question mark. Capote lied about his own life while publishing upsetting truths about others, issues more current than in his own life or this play's. Here is a particularly frustrating example of an at least five-star performance of an at best three-star script. I've split the difference while wishing Tyler Ferguson a different text. A new play about Capote would require him to offer a stronger defence about treacherous use of others' lives than a Broadway museum piece that sounds oddly light about addiction and betrayal.