Showing posts with label JFK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label JFK. Show all posts

Monday, January 30, 2017

Jackie

Those very first notes of Mica Levi's score, with its juxtaposition of strings, flute, and occasionally a clarinet, for the film Jackie, about Jacklyn Kennedy in her final tumultuous days at the White House in 1963, are immediate notifications that this film is going to be spellbinding. Only one week after the assassination, Jackie Kennedy is distraught, yet she has an undeniable fervor to make sure history remembers her husband, preferably more like Lincoln than McKinley. That is the simplest, most succinct way to explain this remarkably complicated story.

But the ironic thing is that history was kind to her husband's legacy for about fifty years. He's still well liked, often ranking around 15 or so among presidential scholars. But many historians, according to biographer Robert Dallek, author of the highly regarded and fair An Unfinished Life, think he was average or even slightly below average. The public, which usually forgets that it was his successor who accomplished the Great Society and not him (or that JFK may not have been one of the presidents during most of the Vietnam War, but his policies helped get us there), still hold him think highly of him. Perhaps he can owe that legacy to his wife.

But what of his wife's image these days? An initial search for articles about how the public views her only brings up stories about how her pink suit is being locked away (and won't be available for the public to view until 2103). But dig a bit deeper and it's easy to find what an optimist would call "adoration" but a neutral observer (or pessimist) might call "spell". Her approval ranking in the late 1990s was higher than Mother Theresa, Helen Keller, and any living president at that time. Unlike with regards to her husband, the historians' opinions largely match the public's: she was behind only Eleanor Roosevelt and Abigail Adams, according to a recent survey.  

Jackie, written by Noah Oppenheim and directed by Pablo Larrain, is a movie with a pretty darn good cast, to say the least. Billy Crudup is the first actor to appear besides Natalia Portman, who is nominated for Best Actress and is one of the front-runners. Crudup is Theodore H. White, the journalist whom Jackie summoned immediately to help rescue JFK's legacy. It is his article in Life magazine that drew a connection to the famous Broadway play, that "for one brief shining moment, there was known as Camelot." Here too is Peter Saarsgaard (who acted with Portman in Garden State) as Robert Kennedy, Greta Gerwig as the White House Social Secretary Nancy Tuckerman, John Carroll Lynch as Lyndon Johnson, Richard E. Grant as William Walton (the painter and Kennedy confidante), and in his final performance, John Hurt as an Irish priest comforting Jackie.

Other than Portman's, Hurt's is the most interesting to watch. At first, his performance as the priest comes across as indifferent, like he's consoled too many widows and doesn't have time for one more. Then it seems like he's at least willing to listen, so long as he can spout memorized platitudes about the ubiquity of God. He even does not seem unsure or unwilling to say that "God was in the bullet" that killed JFK when Jackie throws that conundrum at him. By the end, though, it seems that he not only is a decent listener, but his advice is probably as good as one's can be to a person in mourning. "There comes a time in man's search for meaning," he tells her, "when one realizes that there are no answers. And when you come to that horrible, unavoidable realization, you accept it or you kill yourself, or you simply stop searching." He goes on, but I will leave it to the viewer to listen to his voice, and let it serve as a reminder that he will be so very much missed.

The first dialogue in the film, a tense humorless banter session between a grieving widow angry at how the press is handling the aftermath of the assassination, and a journalist (Crudup) confused about what to say and skeptical of how much control Mrs. Kennedy has with the article he's writing sets a sufficient tone. Within moments of the scene, it's clear just how much preparation Portman put into this role, her best work since her Oscar-winning performance in Black Swan. She likely practiced and practiced until she perfected that very wealthy, breathy Mid-Atlantic voice of Jackie's. It's not simply an imitation, but one that requires her to be scared, sad, bitter, confused, angry, comforting, and concerned.

She puts it to best use when we see Jackie fight back against the new administration to make sure JFK gets what she believes to be the most appropriate funeral. She confronts Jack Valenti (the LBJ aide and future president of the Motion Picture Association of America, played here by Max Casella). As she heads out the door, it seems Valenti has won and there will be a more modest procession for safety purposes. But won he has not. Jackie turns back to him. "Mr. Valenti, would you mind getting a message to all of our funeral guests when they arrive?" He will. "Inform them that I will walk with Jack tomorrow--alone if necessary. And tell General De Gaulle that if he wishes to ride in an armored car or in a tank for that matter, I won't blame him. And I'm sure the tens of millions of people watching won't either." Why is she doing this? She's just doing her job, she asserts.

There are expected historical inaccuracies throughout, but overall this is a powerful look at the emotional state of not simply a widow who will raise her children husbandless but of a woman who must face what just about no one else has had to. She must also explain to her two children that their father is gone; she must avoid the nightmares brought by the memory of her husband being shot right in front of her, his brain matter all over the car and his blood on her dress; and she must mourn while the whole world watches. "How do I do this?" she whispers as she walks to the children, ready to tell them the heinous news. She tries the route where she explains that their daddy is in Heaven keeping their baby brother Patrick company. "But what about us?" Caroline asks. Enough of that; change course. It's time for Caroline to be a brave girl. Then Jackie and her brother-in-law watch the alleged murderer answer questions on television.    

Perhaps this is an unexpected story, but Jack's part of the Kennedy story has been told ad nauseum. JFK has been portrayed by Cliff Robertson, Martin Sheen (who has played both JFK and RFK), Bruce Greenwood, Greg Kinnear, James Marsden, Rob Lowe and others. Aside from the 1991 miniseries called A Woman Named Jackie, her story still has been largely untold. Most Americans might simply be able to remember her grace and style, but not much else. Now that most Americans probably have no idea about the context of Camelot, it's apt for a movie like this. And it's done just the right way.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Nixon

Unlike "JFK," in which director Oliver Stone was climbing uphill to convince a public that he was presenting the truth, "Nixon" opens with a disclaimer that this is a historical interpretation. This film admits it's not completely accurate, and it is ironic that the opening footage of a self-help video concludes by telling us that "nothing sells like sincerity," for it seems that that was a trait Richard Nixon could never convince the public he had. That, and honesty.

The film opens with a rainy zoom-in of the White House at the height of the Watergate scandal, and with its operatic score by John Williams, one gets the impression that a production of "Macbeth" is taking place--there are even crazy horses. Here in this White House is Richard Nixon (Anthony Hopkins), isolated, vulnerable, and drunk. If he is the traditional archetype of a tragic hero, then he is at his downfall, not yet to his redemptive stage, but we are now to view his humble beginnings, ambitious climb, and arrogant rule.

With Hopkins is a terrific cast: James Woods (H.R. Helderman), Joan Allen (Pat Nixon), J.T. Walsh (John Ehrlichman), Bob Hoskins (J. Edgar Hoover), Powers Booth (Alexander Haig), E.G. Marshall (in his last performance as John Mitchell) and others. Nixon in the movies has been a fascinating character: a bad guy you can't help but cheer and root for, and his failure feels like our failures. "When they look at you, they see what they want to be," he says to a portrait of Kennedy. "When they look at me, they see what they are." He's arrogant, telling a campaign donor that his "friends call me Mr. President." He's humble, breaking down, not understanding why he has done what the people wanted--peace with Russia, opening China, and ending Vietnam--and yet they still hate him.

There's frequent Oliver Stone traits--black-and-white cinematography, archival footage, rapid dialogue, cursing, and controversy. He wants to cover every topic of the Nixon legacy--his dismal debate performance against JFK, his assurance that the press "won't have Nixon to kick around anymore," Vietnam and Watergate. It's as if Stone wants to cover every aspect of the Nixon mythology and then speculate some. There are even little "wink-wink" references to the Kennedy assassination and conspiracy, with Williams' military drum tap. There are too many unnecessary scenes of Nixon's childhood and his fights with the CIA (originally taken out but put back into the Director's Cut). It's too theatrical--to the point where it's hyperbolic--and Stone is having way too much fun in the editing room; this is more "Natural Born Killers" than it is "JFK," playing like an experimental college film. Stone has fallen for one of the greatest mistakes a director can make: trying too hard.

The Watergate scenes are where the silliness reaches its highest. Stone has not moderated Hopkins' rapid flapping about of his arms, and Nixon's odd grin becomes snakelike, morphing the character into Hannibal Lector. Throughout most of the film, Hopkins does not look or sound much like Nixon. But Paul Sorvino is very good, sounding and looking exactly like Kissinger.

The American public seems to view their presidents as mythological figures. Some were insecure and some were supremely confident. Some were cool, and some were a bit dorky. One was a peanut farmer, another was an actor, and another had virtually every job in Washington. And some were perfectly villainous. "Nixon" is Shakespearean, but that doesn't automatically make it good. LBJ had the Great Society, but he also had Vietnam. Nixon had Vietnam, but he also had Watergate. Stone had "JFK," but he also had "Nixon."