* * *
Here is a man – a politician,
no less – who expresses integrity and intentions for the benefit of the
American people, yet not only is he responsible for a death, but he continues
to dig himself into a rabbit hole of lies and deceit to maintain a pretty face
for the Oval Office. Perhaps a story we’ve heard too many times,
disconcertingly more in real life than the movies, but hear me out: while Chappaquiddick tells this story, it
paints said man in a sympathetic and somewhat tragic portrait. While I was
never fully in sympathy with Ted Kennedy’s predicament, Chappaquiddick nonetheless had a captivating grip on me and never
loosened once. I think everybody can agree that Ted Kennedy’s action was a
mistake. I don’t dare excuse or apologize for the actions of the man in
question, though; sometimes our mistakes will haunt us for the rest of our
lives, and sometimes we deserve it.
Chappaquiddick recalls the incident at an island in Massachusetts
that forever stained the conscience of Senator Ted Kennedy (Jason Clarke),
where he drove off of a one-lane bridge into the water. This would result in
the drowning of Secretary Mary Jo Kopechne (Kate Mara), who was riding
passenger. He is advised to immediately report the situation to the police.
There is sincerity in Kennedy’s tone when he says he will. The police are
notified of the crash. Not from Ted, but rather two passerby’s.
The police arrive at the scene
and manage to get Kopechne’s trapped body out of the car. Police Chief Arena
(John Fiore) is summoned back to his office by request of Kennedy, who has
Attorney Paul Markham (Jim Gaffigan) by his side and a statement on the
incident prepared. The rabbit hole starts here. The statement is analyzed and
dissected by journalists; lies and discrepancies are immediately spotted in the
statement. Kennedy consults with colleagues, and they begin strategizing the
next move – as long as it benefits their political agenda for Kennedy. So, the
hole of lies and deceit digs deeper and deeper, all of which leads to Kennedy’s
televised statement to the American public, leaving it up to them to decide if
he is the right man for the country.
There is a nervous energy to Chappaquiddick. It always feels like
there will be a combustion of chaos at any moment, but that moment of chaos
never comes. Like the character of Ted Kennedy, to remain cool, calm, and
collect is absolutely essential, and this makes Chappaquiddick all the more riveting a watch – this is further
bolstered by the terrific cinematography and surprisingly compelling score.
Films set in time periods like
this always seem to get caught up in the times and forget about the drama that
is supposed to be the focus, often resulting in nostalgic pandering. Not the
case in Chappaquiddick. Many times, I
forgot I was watching a film set in the ‘60s, resulting in a timeless quality
that makes it all the more accessible (especially for somebody who was not
aware of the Chappaquiddick incident until the release of this film).
While the performances aren’t
spectacular, they at least move the film along just fine. Seeing Jim Gaffigan
in a dramatic role was really difficult
to get used to, but that’s not going to lose the film any credit from me (and,
to his credit, Gaffigan displays some dramatic potential). Most importantly,
however, is Jason Clarke. I think somebody was hoping Chappaquiddick would be a big break for him. While Clarke plays the
character just fine (not to mention he does bear great resemblance to Ted
Kennedy), there’s nothing particularly mind-blowing in his performance.
Then again, I don’t think this
is entirely Clarke’s fault, which leads to Chappaquiddick’s
biggest problem. As I mentioned earlier, the film wants to paint somewhat of a
sympathetic portrait of a man who screwed up big time. Fine by me, and sometimes the film does this: there are
scenes where Kennedy is on the trail of a breakdown, conflicted as to whether
he wants to do the right thing or save face for political gain – I can
understand this inner conflict, considering how much effort he’s put into this.
Other times, however, his character almost manically shifts gears into a dirty,
deceitful politician, aware of his mistake with selfish regard, ready to knock
out of the way anybody who gets in his way. When the film ended, I was never
totally sure how to feel about Kennedy.
A remarkable scene reveals
much about the character of Ted Kennedy, where he confronts his ailing father
(Bruce Dern): he allegedly pushed all four of his boys into politics. Three of
them are gone, and the only one left just made a mistake that will forever
taint the Kennedy legacy. This is such a great dramatic scene that reveals so
much about the character, and I feel with more exploration into this dynamic,
the motivations of Kennedy would be better understood (considering his unusual
shifts in behavior), but the dynamic I so deeply desire is never expanded upon
and is dropped right after this scene.
Chappaquiddick makes a few attempts at Coen Brothers-style humor. There’s
a scene where Kennedy is preparing a neck brace. He is confronted, and the
result is a tackle that bears more resemblance to children fighting over a toy
truck rather than a confrontation of awful behavior. Though not as forced as
the Coen Brothers style, these scenes are present here in there throughout, and
they don’t fit the weight of the situation. Though not insulting, they still
feel inappropriate nonetheless.
I can’t exactly say that Chappaquiddick is a marvelous film. It’s
not quite fleshed out enough to be the masterpiece it could have been, but it
still treats the story with compelled fascination that makes for an
exceptionally engaging watch, even after it’s over. Yes, I was confused about the
portrayal of Kennedy, but the epilogue suggests that I should be confused. If
so, good on you, Chappaquiddick.
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