The promise for an American revolution on the rise change for the worse when John F Kennedy is assassinated on the streets of Dallas, Texas, leaving his wife “Jackie” shattered from the aftermath. The immersive depiction of the post events by Pablo Larrain is a searing and intimate portrait of one of the most important and tragic moments in American history, seen through the eyes of the iconic First Lady, then Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy (Natalie Portman). The film places us in her world during the days immediately following her husband’s assassination. Known for her extraordinary dignity and poise, here we see a psychological portrait of the First Lady as she struggles to maintain her husband’s legacy and the world of “Camelot” that they created and loved so well, while quite literally watching her power and influence disappear overnight. “Jackie” is rated R for brief strong violence, involving sequences of gore, and some adult language.

Pablo Larrain’s portrait of one of the darkest days in U.S history is examined thoroughly through the eyes of one of its most polarizing figures; the first lady. In “Jackie” we get a depiction of the woman and how important that dreaded day in Dallas was, that actually saw the end of two lives. The movie weaves itself in and out of time periods that dealt with Kennedy’s brief tenure as president, but Larrain’s focus is more on the centerpiece of U.S families during that era, and Jackie was certainly not just another pageant girl. Through this examination, it’s clear just how much detail and focus went into being the first lady, a job that came with living in front of the camera every day for the rest of her life, and putting on a show for all to admire. Jackie’s whole life changed when she became a Kennedy, and suddenly her life wasn’t about her anymore, and instead about the focus of the most powerful man in the free world. What Larrain does in solid direction here is channel that essence of what this woman will eventually be left with long after the tragedy happens. This is as much about her psychological disposition as it about anything else, and that isolation and abandonment from the rest of the world sent chills down my spine in the kind of details that went into this presentation.

Larrain’s framing is so masterful and symbolic to the kind of establishing shots in every scene for mood or tempo. During the interview scenes, the characters are framed dead center, giving off a dual appreciation for two multi-purposes. The first, is to put the audience in the shoes of the opposition playing off of the person talking straight at us. This gives us the authentic feel of emotional delivery since it feels like we too are feeling the cold and anger from this woman. The second is to relate the kind of scenery that is around our leading lady. What this does is offers the audience a chance to take a step back and see everything not only Jackie sees everything, but also how her closest confidants see her. During the interview scenes, she’s alone and isolated, so Larrain’s focus around her shows endless land as far as the eye can see, establishing Jackie’s newfound emptiness after losing what mattered most. In the reflection scenes in the White House, it’s opposite of that because it’s everybody watching and discussing every aspect of her life without even giving her the slightest voice, and you certainly understand the kind of tremendous pressure that this puts on a woman who is literally being rushed out of the door with the new president just minutes away from being sworn in. Larrain’s direction feels very intimate, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see him nominated for Best Direction this March at the Oscars.

As for the material here, I felt positives and negatives from the screenplay by Noah Oppenheim. Where the film succeeds the most is granting the audience a view into the aspects of a prestigious passing that you don’t often think about. Jackie’s reaction to the same people she thought were friends who are now rushing her out, was a crushing blow to this government puppet who they taught to sing and dance in front of the cameras. It’s easy to feel what Jackie is feeling for the very absurdity and insensitivity of what now adorns the White House halls, and her range of emotional distraught feels puzzling, yet understandable to what she has taken on. Everybody deals with death in their own ways, but in Kennedy’s death we see that Jackie lost a man she might have barely known, and that haunting afterthought is where the entirety of the movie’s emotional register lies. Despite a brief 94 minute run time, “Jackie” is difficult because there’s not a lot of complexity within the story. This is a movie that rests on the shoulders of Portman’s performance, leaving very little wiggle room or transformation in story to really inspire us. The script is enjoyable at times, but it never picks us up from hammering the same point home repeatedly, and that repetition gets old midway through the movie when you realize the best bits of this script are minutes behind you.

Another problem I had was the musical score which was inappropriate at times and annoying at others. On the latter, there were many times during the film that the same two chords are repeated in ominous deliveries changed up slightly to try to make them different. This was obvious on more than one occasion to this critic, and I had enough about a half hour in. A great musical score will accompany a movie, never override it, and that is exactly what happens here. The vibrant blasts of tone feel very manipulative instead of soothing to what the audience can conjure in tone, and I would rather a composer work with me than against me in any delivery. As far as inappropriate goes, there were a couple of scenes in the movie that I wish would’ve been played with no musical score, to feel the weight and significance of that particular scene. These imposing blasts felt like a distraction on many occasions, and were made even more puzzling when the movie catches on midway through and settles down on their jarring deliveries. I feel like the composer understood the feelings of the character midway through, and finally decided enough was enough. Thank God.

If I didn’t talk about anything else however, I have to commend Portman for her flawless performance as the title character. The best kind of biopic performances are those in which the actor becomes the character and doesn’t feel like just another impression. Natalie had no problems with this concept, as her delivery for Jackie is every bit as authentic as it is complex. Never once was there any point where she breaks that continuous vibe of Jackie Kennedy moving before our very eyes, and Portman’s transformation defines the term actor in all of its many definitions. Portman has to cover so many ends of the emotional spectrum, it’s kind of silly to see her nail every single one with flawless effort. Anger, sadness, delirium, loving, and brash all are nailed with such careful precision. This is a very tight rope that this kind of character can walk, but someone like Natalie never misses the mark and dismisses any doubt that we didn’t get the right woman for the role. Even something as miniscule as Jackie’s accent is a triumph by Portman, as she not only visually impressed in similarity, but also audibly in sound. There are some solid supporting cast in the movie like Peter Saarsgaard and Greta Gerwig, but it’s clear that this is a one woman show, so the focus never drifts from Portman. That point is made even more clearly when I recollect that she is in every single scene in this movie, never slowing down or resting on her single greatest performance to date.

Portman’s mesmerizing performance pushes the Oscar race with “Jackie” in prestigious form. The movie is a haunted glimpse into the mind and heart of tragedy, and how we let that tragedy define who we are as lasting memories. Larrain’s informative and revealing angle plays well to make his movie slightly more entertaining than it probably should be, but the legacy of Kennedy is something simply too engaging not to indulge in.

8/10