Jackie (2016) Review
The bullet heard around the world. 22nd November 1963, President John F. Kennedy was shot dead as he rode through Dallas Texas, smiling and waving to his admirers that littered the streets. What’s most remembered about this event is probably the ‘favourite’ first lady, in her pink bubblegum Chanel suit, clambering the back of the car, desperately trying to hold her husband together. This is what Pablo Larrain focuses on in his english language debut; the grief of Jackie Kennedy.
Jackie is not a typical biopic in that it doesn’t present us with Jackie’s life, it doesn’t show her roots as a New York debutante and aspiring journalist, and it doesn’t include her early years with Jack or their journey into presidency.
It’s a biopic with a very narrow focus, we only see about a week of Jackie’s life, surrounding the events of that November day. The only wider view or set up we are given to this character is during a reconstruction of her infamous televised tour of the White House. Larrain never becomes distracted with other factors that quite quickly could have resulted in a much bigger film. There is very few instances of actual political content or discussion in the film, which is an interesting choice. The film is solely interested in Jackie, more importantly how she dealt with and expressed her grief. Whether that be refusing to remove her bloodied clothing, even when standing next to Johnson as he took the oath to become the next president, just hours after the assassination. Or her methodical and frenzied planning of her husband’s funeral, determined to rival Lincoln’s, in her desperate attempts for him to be remembered.
Natalie Portman is excellent in the title role, it certainly challenges her role in Black Swan as a career best, and if the front runners for the Academy Award are Emma Stone (La La Land) and Portman, Portman deserves it. She portrays each layer of the first lady that Larrain presents with exquisite skill. She is convincing in her overwhelmed role during the white house tour, looking somewhat naive and even a little lost. She is fiercely confident and bold during her interviews as she demands the story to be written her way. Striking off comments and hiding behind a carefully built up guarded and tough persona, “Don’t think for one second I’m going to let you print that” she says after sharing a deeply personal recount of the tragedy.
Her two standout moments for me however, are during a montage where she pops pills, drinks and smokes while she tries on different pieces of clothing and wanders lost around the White House. This is of course a side to Jackie the public would never know and we cannot know if this is an accurate representation as to how she spent those first few nights back home without her husband, but it adds a layer of humanness that drapes her in sadness in such a way that can’t help but touch the audience. Portman is also strong during the films recreation of the assassination, she is so utterly convincing in her shock, and paired with the frantic editing it is the most intense and difficult part of the film, no matter how brief it is.
The surrounding cast is also strong however they’re easily shrunk when stood next to Portman. Peter Sarsgaard as Bobby Kennedy is particularly good, though his character is rather one dimensional, and given Bobby’s close relationship with Jackie I feel like there could have been a little more effort put in, to more explicitly show this, but his constant presence by Jackie’s side does not go unnoticed and it does provide a glimpse into their complex relationship. Greta Gerwig is one of the only characters to provide what only can be described as warmth, or even sympathy as Jackie’s assistant/secretary and friend, Nancy Tuckerman. And John Hurt is a pleasant welcome as a priest with an open ear.
Portman isn’t the only one working hard to convey the multi layered texture of grief however. Cinematographer Stéphane Fontaine, (Rust and Bone), shooting in 16mm is never far from Portman’s face. The film is largely shot in close up, handheld this style not only better showcases Portman’s acting chops but it also compliments the delirious pacing of the film. The narrative can best be described as a sort of fever dream; it jumps in and out of different periods of time, each with a different version of the character, and plays with the idea that this isn’t wholly truth, it’s Jackie’s fragmented state of mind and it’s not always clear whether what we are seeing is fact or memory.
Portman is central to almost every scene of the film and therefore she often dominates the entire frame, this is sometimes an uncomfortable technique but it is one that is boldly and often used by Larrain. It is in this way that I feel Jackie has a connection to his previous, and excellent by the way, film The Club. Both these films have a sort of lack of boundaries, they feel intrusive as well as intimate. Particularly in this film, the moment where Jackie finally strips herself from her blood crusted clothing and tries desperately to scrub the flecks that still remain on her face or underneath her fingernails, crying as she does so. It’s one of the more intimate and private moments of the film and therefore one of the most uncomfortable, it feels like something we shouldn’t be seeing. I don’t think Jackie can be described as exploitative but I wouldn’t be surprised if some viewers felt this way, especially if they were unfamiliar with Larrain’s previous films and often provocative style.
However the most successfully utilised component in this film has got to be Mica Levi’s incredible score. Known for her spectacular work for 2013’s Under the Skin, she succeeds once again in making her score an integral part of the viewing experience and it’ll no doubt be remembered in the future when thinking back to this film. Its dark and overpowering strings is grief itself and it follows Jackie around like a bad smell.
“Don’t let it be forgot, that for one brief shining moment there was a Camelot.”
