The major boon to conspiracy theorists is that the facts do not fit neatly into the Warren Commission scenario. Unfortunately, they fit even less neatly into any alternative, which is why theorists are often driven to suppose that two or more plots intersected. That is exactly what Don DeLillo envisions in his vivid 1988 novel, Libra, which has been adapted and staged by John Malkovich for Chicago's Steppenwolf troupe.
Mafia overlords whose motives are as shadowy as their methods.
As history, the explanations are no more satisfying than any others. This dark humor translates to the stage much more effectively than the political narrative, which Malkovich renders murkier, overstressing the mysterious deaths of minor figures a dozen or more years after they could have spilled the beans. He relies heavily on video footage, words projected onto screens, rows of chairs suggesting a government hearing, booming sounds and other techniques reminiscent of the Wooster Group. At the center are four beguiling caricatures, three of men whose alleged homosexuality is linked to misdeeds. Ferrie, whom Malkovich has said he would have liked to play if he were not directing, is a tour de force for Laurie Metcalf in a far cry from her Emmy-winning role as the title character's sister on TV's Roseanne.