CinemActivism: JFK (1991)

By James Smith

JFK (1991), directed by Oliver Stone, a film fictionalising New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison’s investigation of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination, was released in a very contentious time in American politics, in which growing paranoia resulted from government corruption, and distrust in them to solve the country’s economic problems.This essay aims to place the critical and public reaction to the film in context with the politics of the time, as well as point to examples in the film itself of how its technique might have spurred the controversy and deeper political implications. Also, what does this tell us about how audiences interact with historical film?

The film’s appeal to the collective paranoia of the public, through its narrative and editing, struck a chord, and caused a dichotomy in the media. The film also purports to appeal to truth, and to justice, which in-fact resulted in real life political action. As a result of the film, congress initiated The Assassination Records Review Board in order to reveal previously unknown details about Kennedy’s death and further promote transparency in such matters. It also serves as a reminder of the ideal of Kennedy; an ideal that was present in the run up to the election of Bill Clinton in 1992. And finally, it was a catalyst to a revisionist look at the real-life event; opening up a debate about how much one’s own government can be trusted.

The film was released in the midst of a recession in the US, and caught on to a growing distrust of government and disbelief that it could solve the country’s problems. James Petras, writing a few months after release, argued that the film had arrived “...at a time of growing disenchantment with both political parties, revulsion at the avarice of the financial and business classes, and large-scale corruption and deceit among leading public officials.”(1992, p61). The suspicion of government already existed as a hangover from the Watergate scandal and the continuing disbelief that the government can hold true leadership in times of economic downfall. It is possible that part of the reason the film was embraced by the majority of the public was that it affirmed the audience’s conscious or subconscious suspicion of authority, and awareness that they are not being told the truth.

The film acts as a guiding hand, and legitimises American audience’s intuitive feelings and suspicions. Stone’s plot choices, dialogue and editing, allows for a creeping sense of paranoia to set in, which audiences at the time surely recognised and empathised with.

Stone has Jim Garrison (Kevin Costner), the man leading the alternative investigation into the assassination, offer open questions to the audience throughout most of the film, a constant prodding and encouragement for the audience to participate in the investigation. After given some unpublished photographs in a restaurant, Garrison asks “Who are they, then?”, and does not receive an answer; the action moves to the next part of the mystery as his assistant DA arrives at the table. Garrison suggests two possible accomplices of Jack Ruby, only to find out they are both dead. Another dead-end for the subconscious to deal with whilst examining the next one: the mystery surrounding Oswald. The pace of questions without answers reminds the audience that there is always ‘unknown’: something behind the veil that is just unreachable. There is so much evidence revealed in this short scene that one would need hours to sift through it, but the audience is ahead of Garrison’s team: “I’m lost, boss. . .”. All that essentially matters is that something “does just not add up”.

“We’re looking through the looking glass here, people. White is black, and black is white”

This damning statement from Garrison, in combination with fast, non-continuity editing, concludes this sequence. A 4 second montage: in sync with “. . .and black is white”, two mirrored extreme close-ups of male eyes from a side angle, juxtaposed with a shot of Oswald’s doctored ‘LIFE’ photograph, punctuated with a flash of a camera. In these few seconds, we conclude that the photograph is doctored, whilst the connotation is that things are not what they seem, and we should worry about that. There is a cut to black with a single beat of a deep drum. This is essentially the end of the first act and a ‘down the rabbit hole’ moment. Jean Antoine-Dunne and Paula Quigley, in The Montage Principle, would call this entire sequence “The shaping of an image evolving through associational logic, whereby one sense image chases after another” (2004, pp2). The audience, through associating these images together, will build another generalised image in their mind, in this case, the images and the flash connote ideas about intrigue and investigation, prompting us to think about the evidence in a new way, and consider the implications.

The ‘sense-images’ are especially powerful because they are connotative rather then denotative. They allow for more rather than laying it all out for the audience. This is especially conducive to paranoia setting in because we can then draw our own conclusions from the directions we are pointed in. The film accepts that the audience is paranoid, whether as a natural human trait, or from genuine political fears.

Cinema owners had reported an extremely emotional reaction to the film from the public. El Paso multiplex owner Larry Porricelli asked an elderly punter if she had enjoyed the movie. “"This is not something to enjoy," she cried. "We had hope and promise, and we chose darkness after he died; we became numb and afraid. We took the Nixons and the Reagans because we were afraid. Don't you see what they've done to us?"” (1992). The film clearly stirred up something in the American psyche that made people skeptical and afraid.

As well as being a paranoid film, it is also deliberately provocative, particularly in the way it presents the vigour of the protagonist Jim Garrison, which reflects the memory image of President Kennedy.

The United States historically has expected their head of state to be a leader, and valued charisma and bravery. In these uncertain times where leadership was being questioned, the romanticized vision of Kennedy as the charismatic and forthright President was very effective. However, Kennedy appears only in stock footage and anecdotally; the film posits an idea of him that pervades the mood of the film: the quest for justice and integrity.

Curiosity and suspicion build inside Garrison to the point where, in a spat with his wife, he exclaims “I’ve been sleeping for 3 years!”. Although clearly destructive in his family life, this presentation of obsession is ultimately sympathetic, since we believe in his mission.

"Stone gives us a saintly, persecuted Jim Garrison because the audience couldn't be expected to identify with someone driven mad by American craziness... to have a vast, all-purpose conspiracy behind the deed is comforting compared to the horrific alternative: that an extra would shoot the leading man right in the middle of the picture." Howard Hampton theorises. Stone clearly tries very hard for us to feel comfort and trust in Garrison. We need him to negotiate the web of mystery for us.

The final scene, despite showing a defeated Garrison, has him declare to the press his dedication to the cause of truth, and walk off into the sunset with his family. He walks into a pool of light, perhaps as the ‘enlightened’ one, as the score lifts up triumphantly. Now Garrison is the underdog, akin to Stone’s idea of Kennedy as a President who was an antithesis to the establishment, one who was about to leave Vietnam and end the Cold War.

This is all the more important because there is a strong argument that this kind of Presidential ideal was a key factor in the 1992 election: “in which the colourless and complacent George Bush was defeated by the charismatic, Kennedyesque Bill Clinton” (Coyne, 2005, p40). The Democratic Clinton represented a much more idealistic and progressive ideal than Bush, and a significant change from the conservatism of the 80s. For voters, Clinton was the cleaner, more anti-establishment candidate.

The film’s surrender to the Kennedy ideal is assuring and ultimately galvanising. The film suggests to the audience that they have been deceived and that principles of honesty and justice will reveal the truth. The intuitive, emotional weight behind this is a lot more powerful than any objective account.

This is so, also because the film, through itself, purports to be true, or at least be truthful to the ideals of justice. Oliver Stone has never been particularly clear on the issue, claiming on Danish television that “We don’t know the answer, we don’t have the smoking gun but I think we are able to reach certain conclusions. I believe in them. Garrison presents in them court - but it’s a hypothesis.” (1991) This non-committal statement, to some extent, allows the audience to draw their own conclusions; it leaves a lot to the imagination, but the film’s suggestion of conspiracy through the dramatic narrative is more powerful than the sum of its parts.

The film has been called by Martyn Pedler: “a powerful cinematic deluge - a 'worst-case scenario' of the way historical truth is lost amid 'the postmodern hall of mirrors'.” (2011, p185) JFK seems to present confusion in a way to say: ‘the truth about the past can never be known’.

“When James Garrison (Kevin Costner) appears in JFK's lengthy courtroom scene, his monologue attempts to shape the last few hours' onslaught of information.”(Pedler, 2011, p185) “Onslaught” and “deluge” are apt terms for the concluding court-room sequence, which attempts to fit all of the pieces together in a short space of time, blending reconstructed and real footage at such a pace that it is often impossible to distinguish between them. This is where the audience demands an end to the confusion and the beginning of understanding. Though in many cases, Garrison’s points are inconclusive and speculative, the sequence goes too fast for the audience to effectively break it down. Rather than confuse the audience even further, it appears to make sense. The final blow is the infamous ‘back, and to the left’ shot: the score cuts out, and the shot and line is repeated three times, emphasising its significance. The use of the real Zapruder film is extremely effective, adding another layer of authenticity, as the image of Kennedy waving in his motorcade is so iconic. Its implication is such a strong and damning conclusion that there is little emotional room for skepticism.

If there was any doubt after the fade-to-black, it is all but extinguished with a final title card, which by all accounts vindicates Garrison, despite the fact that he could not prove his case in the film, nor in real life. The simplicity of the white-on-black title card brings a sense of objectivity; the roman font looks very official. It acts as a very effective catharsis to the preceding 3-hour drama, but also acts as a stamp of historical authenticity; affirming the audience.

What Stone might be suggesting here is that: maybe not all of the facts presented are accurate, but in the end, the paranoia and suspicion you as the audience felt is justified. The overall conclusions are said to be accurate: that we have not been told the truth.

In a time of uncertainty, the prospect of being in a knowing position is a very empowering. The conclusion the film has, through the use of suggestive montage, is simplistic, but it is powerful. However, rather than contributing to the uncertainty, it actually puts the audience in a very comfortable position: it boils down the previously unknowable past into a clear narrative, and eventually an ‘Us vs.Them’ scenario.

The reaction to the film was strong, making 70 million dollars worldwide. The public mostly embraced it for its cinematic qualities, whilst many in journalistic circles deriding it simply for the ideas it presented. However, the film is one of the few historical films, or films at all, to invigorate a movement within politics.

The debate about the film, and the event, was fierce. It appears that most film critics at the time were willing to accept the entertainment value of the film, even if they accepted that there were some liberties taken with historical re-telling: Roger Ebert stated “Even if I disagreed with the arguments in each and every frame of JFK even if I thought the whole film was an irresponsible paranoid fantasy, I would have to be honest enough to admit that it engaged my attention, it entertained me, it challenged me, and it made me think.” (Jan 1992)

On the other hand, many pundits unassociated with film criticism, the “older journalists” as Stone suggests (Dec 1991), had an oppositional reaction to the film months even before it was released. For Anthony Lewis of the New York Times, the very suggestion that “our government” (Jan 1992) would do such a thing alone was worth condemning. And of course, since the film suggests that the media is implicated in the conspiracy as well as the government, there is not much incentive for them to give it any credence.

Taking this antagonistic position puts themselves in the ‘enemy’ position. For the press, and anyone who holds a strong faith in government, the film is decidedly uncomfortable. The use of “our” shows a personal factor. Both sides of the argument are extremely passionate.

Despite this furor, the debate resulted in real political progress that most would consider just. JFK, and the resulting controversy, prompted congress to initiate the JFK Act. This mandated the opening of all records concerning Kennedy’s assassination. The ideals of justice and truth, through a compelling narrative, brought about a small, but real change in politics.

This shows that historical films like JFK can act as provocateurs, and encourage audiences to at least consider uncomfortable ideas, and requires commentators to take up positions. This re-opens the debate, maybe encouraging revisionism. Historical film can sometimes offer, through dramatic narrative, more persuasive questions that other historical documents can not. JFK sacrifices its objectivity for a more intuitive affect - the use of real life footage, blurring the line between reality and fiction, legitimises it, and makes the emotional case all the more compelling.

What can be drawn from how American audiences and the media reacted to Oliver Stone’s JFK is that historical films like it can draw out certain perspectives and feelings towards specific events in the past, and events in the present. JFK does not create or offer many new perspectives, but poses a question which catalyses passionate support or opposition to political and philosophical ideas. What a convincing cinematic narrative seems to be able to do is refine and galvanise ideas. These ideas are then simpler and then easier to inspire and gain solidarity through. JFK’s ideals can be boiled down to: ‘the quest for truth’, which ultimately resulted in a small increase in government transparency, at least for a while.

Pedler recognised that “. . .policy isn't enough; you need a 'narrative' to attract voters. (The New York Times guessed at seven of [John] McCain's attempted narratives, from 'The Heroic Fighter vs. the Quitters' to 'Leader vs. Celebrity' to 'Team of Mavericks vs. Old-Style Washington'.)” (2011, p185).

It can then be argued that obviously partisan approaches to historical film, like Stone’s, despite having a bias and inaccuracies, have a place in the name of inspiring debate and revisionist look at histories. They can represent ideals on an intuitive level, which is extremely effective for predicating movements and causes that the film maker feels are worthwhile.

Screen shots: JFK, 1991. Directed by Oliver Stone, US: Warner Bros.

Antoine-Dunne, J. and Quigley, P., 2004. The Montage Principle: Eisenstein in New Cultural and Critical Studies, Amsterdam/New York: Rodopi

Coyne, M., 2005, Paranoia pictures presents. . ., Film International, Iss. 14, UK

Ebert, R., 1991. Oliver Stone defends ‘JFK’ against conspiracy of dunces, Chicago Sun-Times, Dec 22 [Accessed online, available at: http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/19911222/PEOPLE/212010306]

Ebert, R. 1992. Pundits turned critics miss point of film, Chicago Sun-Times, Jan 19 [Accessed online, available at: http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/19920119/COMMENTARY/11010305]

Hampton, H., 2007. Born in Flames: Termite Dreams, Dialectical Fairy Tales and Pop Apocalypses. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press

Lewis, A., 1992., Facts Dispel Oliver Stone’s Fantasy of Kennedy Assassination Conspiracy, New York Times, Jan 13 [Accessed online, available at: http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/1992-01-13/news/9201030096_1_lee-harvey-oswald-john-connally-earl-warren]

Oliver Stone interview about “JFK”, 1991, DanishTV

[Accessed online, available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXrKWWZ2BV4 User: grisemanden on Jul 30, 2008]

Pedler, M., 2011. Fake politics for the real America: FROST/NIXON, W., MILK AND THE 2008 US ELECTION, Metro, Iss. 160, pp 182-186

Petras, J., 1992. The Discrediting of the Fifth Estate: THE PRESS ATTACKS ON JFK, Cineaste, Vol. 19 Iss. 1, New York

Pratt, R., 2001. Projecting Paranoia: Conspiratorial Visions In American Film, Lawrence Kansas: University Press of Kansas