JFK (1991)

In an attempt to escape the consistently draining onslaught of American politics in the news, largely thanks to the ongoing antics of the lunatic currently running the White House and his crew of deranged enablers, I decided to watch a film about, um, American politics. I’m fairly sure I was meant to be watching Beauty and the Beast tonight. Somehow, I ended up with JFK.

This is a conspiracy theorist’s dirty dream: a convincing but potentially unhinged alternate version of the events surrounding the assassination of John F. Kennedy.

The film builds on the idea that Lee Harvey Oswald didn’t act alone, or perhaps didn’t act at all, and was instead used as a scapegoat. What follows is a version of events that appears to involve just about everyone: the CIA, the FBI, the Pentagon, the Mob, Cuba, the Soviet Union, the Secret Service, the media, and possibly half the population of New Orleans. And maybe the audience watching the film. At times, I began to question if JFK himself was part of the conspiracy.

We follow New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison (Kevin Costner), who becomes increasingly obsessed with uncovering what he believes to be the truth. The film is largely a series of interviews, meetings, and lengthy speeches, as Garrison moves from one questionable lead to another. His prime suspect is businessman Clay Shaw (Tommy Lee Jones), but much of the evidence comes from unreliable sources: prisoners, acquaintances-of-acquaintances, and people who may or may not know someone who may or may not have once met Shaw. Some refuse to testify, others die in suspicious circumstances, and gradually Garrison begins to isolate those closest to him, including his colleagues and family, in pursuit of a theory he’s already convinced must be true.

This all leads to a courtroom finale in which Garrison lays out an elaborate multi-shooter theory, challenging the official findings of the Warren Report. Using the Zapruder film and various interpretations of ballistic evidence, he delivers an impassioned speech about truth, accountability, and the duty of citizens to question their government. “A patriot must always be ready to defend his country against his government.” It’s a line clearly aimed as much at the audience as the jury, and, uncomfortably, one that feels even more relevant today.

From a filmmaking perspective, Oliver Stone’s direction is impressive. Archive footage, recreated material, and dramatised scenes are blended seamlessly, giving the film a constant sense of momentum. The cast is packed with familiar faces. Kevin Costner anchors it well, while appearances from Tommy Lee Jones, Kevin Bacon, Gary Oldman, Joe Pesci, John Candy, Donald Sutherland, Jack Lemmon, Wayne Knight, Walter Matthau, Sissy Spacek, and others add texture throughout. Even the real Jim Garrison pops up somewhere.

Despite its length, the film rarely feels dull. Not much happens in a traditional sense, but the constant stream of information, suspicion, and shifting perspectives keeps it engaging. The downside is that the film leans heavily into Garrison’s viewpoint, offering little in the way of counterbalance. The Warren Report is largely dismissed, and the film seems more interested in persuading than questioning.

Whether you enjoy JFK will likely depend on how willing you are to go along with its theories. The case it presents is compelling, even if it occasionally edges into the absurd. With hindsight, and in an era where political mistrust feels increasingly normal, it’s not hard to see why the film remains influential. That said, as someone with no strong prior investment in the details of the assassination, I found it easier to treat it as a well-crafted dramatisation rather than a definitive account of events.

It’s long, occasionally indulgent, and arguably a little too convinced of its own version of the truth, but it’s also gripping, well-made, and consistently engaging.

Not one I’d rush back to, but certainly one that holds your attention while it’s on.