Not so curious case of one gigantic ego

Rating: 6/10 (1 March 2017)

Good cinema is not bound to entertain, that's the popcorn movies' lot. Good cinema is, however, bound to fascinate. And not necessarily in a pleasing way. Well, Jackie is definitely not an entertaining movie. But is it at least fascinating? That depends on what you personally expect from the films you watch.
If you expect to experience some strong emotions towards the film characters then Jackie will be the right thing for you. Because the one emotion it is definitely capable of drawing is the mix of disgust and bitter pity for the protagonist. Whether or not the film's portrayal of Jacqueline Kennedy is accurate is not for us to judge, and it's not even important because the only Jackie we have a chance to know is the media icon carved in stone of history. What's important, however, is that such icon, no matter how glamorous, is beyond ugly due to the obsession with her own self. Over and over again, this film makes that painfully obvious. If that was the goal then it's been brilliantly achieved.
But if you expect a true drama, a story that touches you and keeps you enthralled, this film is probably not the right place to look at. That's the paradox of Jackie, because, despite the profound historical depth of the tragedy of JFK's life and death, this film is about something else. John Kennedy is merely a stage for the main performer, the white swan of the White House. But that star is so busy with trying to impress the world and live up to the image of the First Lady of the greatest president who ever lived, that she fails to notice how false those claims are and how stale she is in that never-ending search of her own perfection.
It could've been different. It could've been better if we could see multiple Jackies, one for the public eyes and one more genuine and for the closest ones only. But maybe there never was a genuine Jacqueline Kennedy, and her whole life, day after day, from the morning till the night, was one huge play called "The First Lady". If that's true then the film's fault is that it chose an obviously boring person to tell us about. And if it's not so, and there was actually some versatility in that woman, then the film's fault is in a complete failure to grasp it.
Either way, we're left with 100 minutes of a painfully slow showcase of one person's endless ego, wrapped in multiple layers of fake self-loathing and real self-adoration. And, of course, the masturbation to the past and its greatness. Because, if the present was shot down half-fledged, without anything to show for itself, but you already have gotten your hopes so high and your pride even higher, it's the past that your only hope for indulgence lies in. And while we know that the life of the true Jacqueline Kennedy was far from over when that glorious play of hers ended, and that she'd have many more years of glamorous life ahead, there's never a hint at that in this movie. Never a hint at a mere hope for a change. And that inherent staleness, no matter how chic and pompous, is the film's true and only taste. Stale and still, like the air in a crypt the past is buried in, the past we might want to honor but don't really want to recall.