Jackie

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I was alive when the Kennedy assassination occurred in November, 1963. I know where I was when I heard Kennedy was shot. I know the story. I watched the wall-to-wall television coverage of the events, the lying-in-state, the assassin assassinated, the funeral, the flame. And I've seen the crack-pot video's and conspiracy theories (before conspiracy theories were kewl, dude...). And I believe what I saw those days. Because one crazy person can kill the President, as they've tried since, at least once every decade. You don't need a convoluted plot to shake the world. The world is so unstable, it shakes on its own.

So...Jackie.

This film by Chile's Pablo Larrain, recounts the personal story of First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy not yet Onassis (played by Natalie Portman) through her duties during her tenure, focusing primarily on her televised tour of the White House (an odd choice), the details and aftermath of the Dallas assassination, and an interview she does with a journalist (unidentified, but it would historically be Theodore H. White, as played by Billy Crudup). The film wheels between those events with the interview as a framing device for flashback sequences that one supposes is from the viewpoint of the First Lady—the "suppose" is because you see her nervousness and last-minute advice, minutiae and pep-prep-talk from tech-folks and her secretary on what's-what, what she should do, how she should present herself and her work making The White House "the people's house."

She had to have something to do. Despite a tendency to be reserved, she could not be so in the cut-throat world of politics, which she despised. She and her husband were both young, younger than the Eisenhower's, Truman's, and Roosevelt's (except Teddy) and they became symbols for a re-invigorated America, a telegenic America. And "Jackie," so young, so fashionable, so au courant, became a symbol for women, young women, "house-wives" delegated to the kitchens and nurseries who saw her as capable, elegant and admirable. They wanted to be like her. They wanted to be her.

But, she made it look easy. It wasn't. A woman of High Society, she hated politics and shunned the limelight while enjoying the advantages of it, even though she knew it would be impossible, especially when campaign crowds for John Kennedy doubled when she appeared with him. She suffered two miscarriages before giving birth to her daughter Caroline and son John Jr. Ultimately the couple would lose three children. Death haunted the Kennedy family even before the events of November, 1963.

And then, there was Jack. If one wants to wade through the muck of tabloid reporting, one gets the story of the President's infidelities before two of the toes of one foot get wet. Go in mid-calf and Jackie's revenge-affairs show up, although those revelations are more recent, secrets being loosened from willing confidante's after the woman's death, when she could no longer spin—except in her grave. Jacqueline may have been a more private person, but she knew her power and would wield it with impunity. She also knew the power of her image, as, immediately after the assassination, she chose to continue wearing the blood-spattered pink Chanel suit (only compromising by washing the blood from her face) on Air Force One's return flight with the explanation: "I want them to see what they did to Jack."

That "image" dilemma is what keeps Jackie from being an entirely interesting movie. The "White House Tour" segments are particularly problematic as they show a clearly uncomfortable First Lady trying to negotiate her way through the technology and invasiveness of it, while trying to maintain her composure. Portman has a particularly difficult time during these scenes, trying to convey that coolness combined with a nervousness that seems as artificial as the breathy Marilyn Monroe voice that Kennedy affected when she spoke. The "image" isn't well-conveyed, and the other segments feel less static and controlled.

One would think that the Dallas segments would be the most fascinating, but they aren't. Oh, they are weighted, especially following the assassination, when Jacqueline Kennedy manipulates, cajoles, even guilts to get her way for a national funeral that would hold the nation's attention for as long as possible. But, the most interesting are the interview segments, which show the First Lady with another agenda—to frame the Kennedy years in a glowing romantic light that mythologized it, far beyond the in-fighting and partisanship that actually marked the Kennedy years. In those segments, Kennedy is portrayed as canny, bitter, ironic, and well-aware of her role as both Mrs. Custer and Ishmael. The only part of the film that evokes a chuckle is when she drags on a cigarette and coolly informs White "I don't smoke." Of course, she doesn't.

"I don't smoke..."

One wishes there was more of that, but there is not. When, in 2011, the History Channel produced a television mini-series which featured Katie Holmes as Jacqueline Kennedy, daughter Caroline Kennedy managed to keep it from airing in the U.S. by an interested ABC network by offering, in its stead, a news special playing an interview with Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. that her mother had recorded in early 1964. A deft counter-move, an invisible spin like a pirouette, that would have made her mother proud...and smile. But, it's to the detriment of the movie, which plays it so safely that it makes it dull and uninteresting as both document and drama.