Based on the abundance of biographies, television series and movies that are made about them today, there’s no doubt the Kennedys remain as enigmatic as they did when they were alive. Where people are well-versed in the deaths of John F. Kennedy Jr. and his brother, Robert, most under-30s would be hard-pressed to recall the cold night in 1969 when aspiring Presidential candidate Edward Kennedy ran his car off the road. It’s doubtful as well as that they’d remember the name of the woman left trapped in the car to die. Director John Curran’s Chappaquiddick is a decent Cliff’s Notes version of events, though it’s hard not see sanitization masquerading as ambiguity.
Senator Edward Kennedy (Jason Clarke) is the final Kennedy son on the road to the White House. During a house party on Chappaquiddick Island he’s involved in a car accident that results in the death of passenger Mary Jo Kopechne (Kate Mara). Over the ensuing days, Kennedy finds himself getting advice from all sides on how he should handle the scandal and still pull off a successful Presidential bid.
It’s difficult not to watch Chappaquiddick with thoughts toward the current political regime occupying the White House. The Kennedys were examples of American exceptionalism, untouchables struck down by tragedy because they were too perfect. Since then, the idea of male exceptionalism, particularly in the political arena, has become nefarious and frightening, especially if you’re female. Suffice it to say watching Kennedy and several of his older, married, male compatriots partying in an isolated cabin with a group of young, pretty “boiler room girls”—so named for both their workplace and the “fire in their bellies” over Bobby Kennedy’s campaign—leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth.
Regardless, Taylor Allen and Andrew Logan’s script gives audiences everything we publicly know about the death of Mary Jo Kopechne and plenty of speculation on what we don’t, but the line between the former and the latter is blurred. Much of the speculation comes from what led Kopechne and Kennedy into the car that night, and the movie intentionally diverts from giving any definitive viewpoint on the subject. The camera presents their conversation in silence, and once they’re outside the audience sees snatches of their discussion. Were Kopechne and Kennedy drunk? Was there a moment of tenderness, though never outright sex, between the two? The audience doesn’t know and it’s hard to tell what the POV of these scenes is because of it. It’s unclear whether this is Kennedy’s memories of what happened, his “revised” version of events or something else.
Had the story attempted to balance Kopechne’s story with Kennedy’s, things might have felt fresher since the victim always tends to get lost in time. Kate Mara dazzles as Mary Jo. Her sweet grin and genuineness illustrate an idealistic woman struggling to find herself after the death of a man she thoroughly believed in. There’s barely any time to discern her character further before she meets her inevitable conclusion, and it’s a shame because Mara gives off such light in a small amount of time. The film’s attempt to give an idea of her demise, saying the Lord’s Prayer as water enters the vehicle, is heart-wrenching because it’s the one moment of humanization the character gets. Unfortunately, for Chappaquiddick’s purposes, Kopechne must remain a pretty young thing, a victim giving weight to her killer.
Jason Clarke’s Edward Kennedy is one of screen culture’s least showy depictions of a Kennedy. He doesn’t embrace the Boston accent wholeheartedly, and the few times you hear those long “a’s” it feels like his natural cadence rather than pandering. Clarke is wonderful as a man chronically torn between his Kennedy name and his own conscience. Kennedy was a man destroyed by his inability to make a decision, soliciting opinions from everyone including his ailing father (a croaky Bruce Dern) to his put-upon cousin Joe (Ed Helms). When Mary Jo asks him why he hasn’t made a decision on whether he’ll run for President, it’s nearly laughable that a long drive off a short pier immediately follows as the literal answer to her question.
As far as the film’s thoughts on Kennedy, it shies away from both blame and absolution. Other characters immediately jump to his defense. Olivia Thirlby’s Rachel, a “boiler room girl” and friend of Mary Jo’s, immediately acts as the one woman reminding audiences he’s blameless, asking “What can we do to help the Senator” immediately after hearing her friend has died. Later she tells Kennedy that the Kopechne’s “don’t blame you,” which is historically inaccurate considering the family openly stated he never apologized for what happened. Ed Helms’ Joe Gargan is the voice of reason, a man who loves Kennedy but was willing to jump into the water to save an already-dead Kopechne. The only clear assertion Chappaquiddick is willing to make is that Gargan severed ties with Kennedy over his handling of the situation.
Chappaquiddick will definitely intrigue those who have never heard about the scandal, but it won’t expose anything. It’s an all-around safe feature film that presents everything by-the-numbers. Mara, Clarke and Helms are worth watching, but you’ll want to visit Wikipedia after.
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