Whose Memory Is This?
By Erin Thorn
[1] Around the time that his controversial film JFK hit theaters in 1991, director Oliver Stone engaged in several academic sparring matches with film critics about the merits of his work. Several critics felt that Stone’s interpretation of New Orleans-based attorney Jim Garrison’s late 1960’s investigation of John F. Kennedy’s assassination was too far-fetched to be bothered with. To his credit, Stone fought hard against all of his critics and defended his right to make a movie the way he saw fit. Shortly after the film’s release, he is quoted as saying, “What I have tried to do with this movie is to open a stall in that marketplace of ideas and offer a version of what might have happened†("Who Defines History?"). It is clear that for Stone, the lone gunman/single bullet theory is not a satisfactory explanation to the JFK assassination. Like a significant slice of the American public, Stone wonders if something more sinister than one man was responsible for this horrific event. Instead of filming a documentary style piece about the assassination and the events leading up to it, Stone chooses Garrison’s investigation into the assassination as a vehicle for reflection: for himself, his characters, and his audience.
[2] Stone’s film itself is nothing short of an epic storytelling. Whether or not any member of the audience had any particular emotional ties to the assassination itself is lost on the film itself. The 3 ½ hour running time is imposing to say the least. The dialogue is fast and dense; at times it’s filled with technical jargon unfamiliar to average Americans. Beyond this, the many characters’ “flashback†scenes are often punctuated by other characters’ observations, questions, and criticisms. Working within this format, it can sometimes be a question as to whose memory the audience is watching and whose memory or understanding of a given situation is being articulated. One particularly clear example of such scene-dialogue confusion is in the meeting with Clay Shaw.
[3] Prior to this particular scene, Garrison interviews a Louisiana State prisoner named Willie O’Keefe. He explains a series of nights that he spent with a man named Clay Bertrand and another man, David Ferrie. The team begins to search for these men, whom they suspect may be connected to the assassination in some way. After talking to Ferrie, and without luck tracking down any person named Clay Bertrand, the team begins to wonder if this particular lead is dead. After another character mentions that a Clay Bertrand also goes by the last name Shaw, the team sets up a preliminary discussion with Shaw to discuss what he may know about the events leading up to the assassination.
[4] The scene begins with Shaw arriving in Garrison’s office. The building is quiet and empty, as it is Easter Sunday. Several members of the team sit around the large room and appear to be actively listening to an active dialogue between Garrison and Shaw. After exchanging pleasantries, Garrison begins to question Shaw about one particular night involving Shaw, O’Keefe, and another critical “flashback†participant, David Ferrie. Garrison sets the scene, narrating the beginning of what appears to be a very unusual night between Shaw and O’Keefe.
[5] When asked if he remembered this particular night with O’Keefe, Shaw is emphatic that he does not recall being acquainted with O’Keefe and therefore could not have possibly had him over for dinner. Garrison continues on describing the dinner, the table, the waiter, as he claims O’Keefe has described, hoping that he will “refresh [Shaw’s] memory.†As Garrison continues to describe the scene, which he says O’Keefe claimed turned sexual, the flashback on the screen seems to fit Garrison’s description. It seems clear that Garrison is either narrating a memory of Willie O’Keefe or describing the scene as he [Garrison] is envisioning O’Keefe’s description of the events.
[6] But then Shaw jumps in. He takes charge of the memory, staking claim over at least a portion of the memory: “On the other hand, I do have a lovely Chippendale dining table, and I often have a friend over sitting on one end, while I sit on the other. It’s precisely the point of a long dining table. The splendor of the meal adds to the enjoyment of it.†As he speaks, the classical music being played in the dining room plays behind him, and then he too talks over the scene. Despite the fact that he is adamantly denying the authenticity of the scene, it appears that it is a scene with which Shaw is familiar. Is this a shared memory between Shaw and O’Keefe? Is this really Shaw’s recollection of the facts, set completely apart from O’Keefe? From this point, it is much less clear as to whose memory is playing on the screen and whose versions of the events are being articulated.
[7] When Garrison begins to push the flashback further, Shaw seems to concede the authenticity of the dinner scene. Though he continues to deny knowing any of the men involved, he allows the dialogue to continue. When Garrison claims that Shaw paid O’Keefe to have sex with him and that Ferrie came after to join, Shaw says that he is certain he does not know any of the men involved. However, without Garrison articulating any of O’Keefe’s memories in the scene, it continues. As the two bicker about what did and did not happen that night, an elaborate scene of light BDSM plays out on screen. Where does this memory come from? It does not seem to come from Garrison, who only articulates his belief that the two had sex with Ferrie but makes no mention of such an elaborate set-up as the one that appears. Is this Shaw’s memory? As the on-screen action turns back to Shaw, he seems to be deep in thought, perhaps lost in the memory.
[8] This scene, along with several others, plays out in a way that makes it wholly unclear as to whose thoughts are being played out on screen, who is talking, and where within the flashback others may be injecting their own thoughts or feelings. This playing around with memories allows for complexity beyond just what is on the screen. These flashbacks, which are plentiful, can provide multiple different levels of interplay between the thoughts and memories of several different characters at the same time. Like the real life tragedy, scenes such as the Shaw interview are uniquely chaotic, unclear, and confusing. One never knows for certain what is fabricated, exaggerated, or simply unacknowledged. With this scene playing out the way that it does, viewers simply cannot make any conclusions about Shaw’s dinner party. The widespread use of this technique in this scene strongly supports Stone’s argument that he was simply creating a version of how these events “might have happened.†Playing this and other scenes as loose as possible, Stone is able to allow viewers to imprint their own assumptions and evaluations of the conspiracy onto both the story and the scene itself.