Director/ Writer: Peter Landesman
Starring: Paul Giamatti, James Badge Dale, Zac Efron, Ron
Livingston, Marcia Gay Harden, David Harbour, Billy Bob Thorton, Jacki Weaver,
Tom Welling, Mark Duplass, Gil Bellows, Colin Hanks
Synopsis: Following the immediate aftermath of Kennedy’s
assassination in Dallas, Texas and subsequent days after it. Focusing on the
doctors of the Parkland hospital, Abraham Zapruder (Giamatti), who shot the
infamous video footage; James Hosty (Livingston), an FBI agent; and Robert
Oswald (Dale), Lee Harvey Oswald’s brother.
Behold the cast of Parkland! It’s really quite
extraordinary to see so many huge names all in the same billing. Still, you can
look at Movie 43 and say the same, and
that didn’t turn out quite right. Parkland
is by no means as awful as Movie 43
though it’s another example of “all that glitters ain’t gold.” The cast aren’t
terrible, and if you are to pick holes in the film, acting is not something you
can bash. The main culprit of the film’s second-rate nature is writer/director
Peter Landesman who has made a mess of an already chaotic chain of events.
The first 40 minutes of Parkland is a gripping recap of November
22nd 1963 with attention on people you may not have known about.
Paul Giamatti’s Abraham Zapruder is one such person who has his place in
history, but perhaps unknown by name and profession. Zapruder was the man who
captured that horrific assassination on film; at the right place at the wrong
time, away from his desk at a clothing manufacturer to “see the President”. As
the film makes a point of not showing the two shots that killed the 35th
President of the United States, we see Zapruder watch in horror as a humble
homevideo turns into homicide evidence right before his eyes. Giamatti is an
exceptional, naturalistic actor, who plays the scene authentically. There’s no
melodramatic screams or tears, just a look of unadulterated fear.
The film then takes us to the
eponymous Parkland hospital where a young, yet practiced resident in general
surgery, Dr. Charles “Jim” Carrico (Efron), looks on in disbelief at the body
wheeled in for operating. Efron, despite seemingly pivotal to the film, has
little to do. Jim’s vehement drive to keep Kennedy alive is both noble and
ridiculous, affecting at points, comedic too. The operating scene is very
intense, an idea that may have seemed powerful on paper, yet over the top on
screen. The squishing sounds of blood silences most other sound, emphasising
the blood-soaked hospital room to a nauseating, tasteless degree. Efron ends
the scene pushing hard on the dead President’s chest, desperate to bring him
back to life. Lasting what feels like several minutes, it starts as a
heartbreaking parade of patriotism, quickly turning objectionable.
Out of the three main arcs, James
Badge Dale’s portrayal of Robert Oswald, the composed brother of one of the
most hated figures in American history, is the best. Dale moves from film to
film with supporting roles, endlessly making a fine impression. His turn in Parkland is his most noteworthy yet, bringing
such humanism to a person we would only believe to be crushed and confused by
his relationship to Lee Harvey. He shares a lot of his screen time with Jacki
Weaver, playing their mother. Dale brings a maturity to the film, above and
beyond any of the other scenes, overshadowed at times by Weaver’s terribly
written Marguerite. Whether or not these two people said and acted as they do
in reality as they do in the script can be answered by your own research. It
feels, however, that Landesman attempted to add humour to the film (to shake
things up?) by having Marguerite as the most ignorant, dedicated mother in the
United States. Her belief that Lee should be buried alongside the president is
a laugh-out-loud idea, but handled awkwardly in the film – are we meant to
think that’s funny, or tragically serious?
Strangely altering in tone in the
latter half, Parkland is a haphazard,
episodic retelling of that fateful day. There are stories in there that warrant
a lot of attention (Robert Oswald should have been given his own film,
arguably), and many that don’t (there’s not much to take from Zapruder racing
around town to try and get his film developed, or seeing Kennedy’s coffin get
clumsily transported onboard Air Force One). Landesman may have begun and ended
his directing career with a whimper.
Also posted on LiveForFilms
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