By Jake Coyle, AP Film Writer
History, lately run amok, is ordered with such tidy, forceful finesse by Natalie Portman's Jacqueline Kennedy in in the piercing "Jackie." Summoning a journalist to Hyannis Port in 1963, not long after the assassination of John F. Kennedy, she coolly sets the record for her late husband's legacy, coining "Camelot" and shaping the mythology. Some details that don't fit the narrative she simply crosses out. "I don't smoke," she tells the Life magazine reporter (Billy Crudup), with a cigarette dangling between her fingers.
Pablo Larrain's "Jackie," a work of probing intimacy and shattered stereotype, is an electrifyingly fractured portrait of the former First Lady. Gone is the image of the wan, serene Jackie. Here, instead, is a savvy public-relations operator, a steely widow in grief and a woman redefining herself amid tragedy. "I'm his wi–" she begins saying after Dallas. "Whatever I am now."
The more complicated view of the mysterious Kennedy is inspired partly by the revelatory private interviews conducted by Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. and released in 2011. She was not purely her pillbox-wearing public image, not merely a totem of grace, the candid tapes revealed.
Throughout "Jackie," we feel her discomfort at playing a starring role in an American fairy tale turned nightmare. The disharmony, sounded by Mica Levi's knotted, gloomy score, is always there between persona and person. "We're the beautiful people, right?" she sarcastically quips. Exiting Air Force One, she deadpans to her husband (Caspar Phillipson), "I love crowds." In Larrain's hands, Kennedy's pained public performance is a kind of sacrifice. "Jackie" is at once a deconstruction of the Jackie Kennedy fable and a dramatization of its making.
Penned by Noah Oppenheim ("The Maze Runner"), "Jackie" evades the traditional biopic format like a disease. It's organized around the Hyannis Port interview with flashbacks to events large and small before the assassination, during it and after. Many of the scenes, quiet and empty, are shot less like flashbacks than like Kennedy's own splintered, haunted memories.
Some, like her televised White House tour (recreated with black-and-white precision), are familiar. Others are strikingly surreal. Kennedy silently marching through a vacant White House, her pink suit bloodied from the shooting, is an unshakable image that feels straight out of Kubrick.
And then there's Kennedy stomping through rainy Arlington, her heels digging into the wet ground. Seeking a spot for what will be the Eternal Flame, she is, through force of will, staking a plot in history for her husband. "Have you read what they've been writing?" she first greets the reporter. "It's no way to be remembered."
Portman's Kennedy is, from the start, probably thornier and more uneasy than the woman ever was. Portman and Larrain have sharpened her and superimposed her story on a rigorously crafted but resolutely cold surface. "Jackie," though endlessly fascinating, can feel like a character study conducted on a surgical table.
Larrain, the talented Chilean filmmaker of the Oscar-nominated "No" whose equally complex "Neruda" is also out soon, is interested in dissecting Kennedy but not solving her. "I'll settle for a story that's believable," says Crudup's reporter. The truth, Kennedy says, is out of reach.
What is within the grasp of "Jackie" – aside from a compelling, intricate performance from a fully committed Portman – is a sense of how difficult it may have been for Kennedy to make things look so easy. With preternatural poise, she served as a bulwark of decorum and order against the chaos of the times. It's chilling now to hear the advice of Kennedy family friend William Walton (the great Richard E. Grant) after Lee Harvey Oswald is gunned down. He tells Kennedy to take the kids to Boston and "build a fortress." ''The world's gone mad, Mrs. Kennedy."
"Jackie," a Fox Searchlight release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association of America for "brief strong violence and some language." Running time: 100 minutes. Three stars out of four.
First-Time Feature Directors Make Major Splash At AFI Fest, Generate Oscar Buzz
Two first-time feature directors who are generating Oscar buzz this awards season were front and center this past weekend at AFI Fest in Hollywood. Rachel Morrison, who made history as the first woman nominated for a Best Cinematography Oscar---on the strength of Mudbound in 2018--brought her feature directorial debut, The Fire Inside (Amazon MGM Studios), to the festival on Sunday (10/27), and shared insights into the film during a conversation session immediately following the screening. This came a day after William Goldenberg, an Oscar-winning editor for Argo in 2013, had his initial foray into feature directing, Unstoppable (Amazon MGM Studios), showcased at the AFI proceedings. He too spoke after the screening during a panel discussion. The Fire Inside--which made its world premiere at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival--tells the story of Claressa “T-Rex” Shields (portrayed by Ryan Destiny), a Black boxer from Flint, Mich., who trained to become the first woman in U.S. history to win an Olympic Gold Medal in the sport. She achieved this feat--with the help of coach Jason Crutchfield (Brian Tyree Henry)--only to find that her victory at the Summer Games came with relatively little fanfare and no endorsement deals. So much for the hope that the historic accomplishment would be a ticket out of socioeconomic purgatory for Shields and her family. It seemed like yet another setback in a cycle of adversity throughout Shields’ life but she persevered, going on to win her second Gold Medal at the next Olympics and becoming a champion for gender equality and equitable pay for women in sports. Shields has served as a source of inspiration for woman athletes worldwide--as well as to the community of... Read More