Ted Kennedy was always a bit of an enigma for me. Up until his death in 2009, he was a mainstay of the United States Senate and the last of the prominent Kennedy Brothers. Many people forget about Joseph Jr. who was killed in action during WWII. Then, of course, you have John F. Kennedy who was assassinated on November 23, 1963, while serving as the 35th president of the United States, and Robert Kennedy who was himself shot and killed during his presidential campaign in 1968. That left little Teddy to take up the family mantle in the wake of innumerable tragedies and subsequently maintain the prestigious family name.
But by this point, one is compelled to ask, why did Ted never make a successful bid for president? On the surface, it does seem a legitimate and perplexing question and we must only look back to Chappaquiddick for some form of an answer. It almost sounds like a code word and in a way it is.
I can’t remember the first time I ever went down the rabbit hole and actually learned about the event. But put in the context of his broader career and where he later stood as the reverred “Lion of the Senate” well into the 21st century, it certainly leads to a deeper understanding. People’s lives and careers are defined not only by their past successes but perhaps even more so by their misfortunes and failures too.
Setting The Scene
Because, coincidentally, this is right where the film (Titled The Senator in the U.K.) chooses to open. First, spelling out this lineage of tragedy pervading America’s powerhouse political family and how it revealed itself in the younger Kennedy’s life as well. He was constantly cast in the shadow of his brothers and trying to earn the adulation of his exacting father Joe Sr.
In 1969 with the Apollo 11 mission, it looked like JFK’s vision when he capitulated the Space Race was finally coming to fruition and his legacy as a great man was continually being solidified. Ted (Jason Clarke) to some degree is still reeling from the death of his other brother, a year prior, as he takes part in an annual boat race off Chappaquiddick Island.
There he is standing in the shadow of Bobby spending time with his closest companions, among them the Boiler Room Girls, who had played a crucial part in the past Kennedy campaigns. The events of that weekend are cloudy at best but then that’s where much of the controversy lies. The senator went out for a moonlight drive with Mary Jo Kopechne (Kate Mara) with horrific consequences.
Senator Kennedy’s car was speeding along in the darkness and moments later winds up careening off a dock, flipped and submerged in the water. Though disoriented he’s able to escape while seeing no sign of Mary Jo in or outside of the vehicle. He does what anyone does in a time of trauma — seeks out his friends — Joe Gargan (Ed Helms) and Paul F. Markham (Jim Gaffigan).
Jason Clarke has enough of the likeness to pull off the lead role in that regard but he also brings a conflicted nature to the part that feels textured and inherently human. Because there are obvious, at times, cataclysmic lapses in judgment even as there are some qualities to no doubt admire in the man.
I bring my own preconceptions to this picture with the likes of Helms and Gaffigan because my evaluation of them is impaired by the fact that I always view them through the lens of comedy. Here they are a pair of frazzled men and in Gargan’s case, in particular, he’s guided by a sense of integrity. For him, this is not about politics at all. It’s about doing what’s right.
Of course, Teddy also calls upon the advice of his father, the now wheelchair-bound and stroke-hampered Joe Sr. (Bruce Dern) who nevertheless still wields so much influence in his son’s life. He proceeds to get the whole gang together including Robert McNamara and others to get things under control. And we begin to see the cynical PR side of Chappaquiddick come to pass.
The Cynical Side of Chappaquiddick
I’m not sure if we can call it a large scale cover-up — no, it’s not Watergate — but it does show that neither side of the political spectrum goes untarnished. There’s smut and shady dealings being peddled on both sides. That’s how politics works unfortunately in its more unseemly mechanisms. Equally fortuitous was that Neil Armstrong touched down on the surface of the moon only days later taking most of the headlines. Again, the legacy of JFK shining brightly.
Meanwhile, Ted agrees to plead guilty and gets a suspended sentence based on his reputation and the eventual admission of his own guilt (though it came hours after the events occurred). His final attempt to salvage the situation seems a genuine one — to go before the people and address them directly on television right in their living rooms.
You can actually watch Kennedy’s nationally televised statement following the dubious scandal and it will undoubtedly receive shouts of derision from some and deep empathy from others. The film denotes much the same with real-life archival footage of an interviewer talking to the electorate days later. I’m not in a place to dictate which reaction is right or wrong and that’s the key.
What the story settles on is this muddled reality which very few people ever seem satisfied with. It’s far easier to craft a saint or a devil. What’s more disturbing is the admission that a man can simply be fallible and flawed; prone to deep errors in judgment and clouded by personal aspirations and fears.
To survey this event in Ted Kennedy’s life does not simply lead to an indictment of his behavior but a realization that he was teetering between opportunity and integrity as the cameras roll. Do his actions thenceforward absolve him or not? He has one final conversation with his estranged cousin Joe Gargan (who passed away almost anonymously in 2018). He cooly asserts, “We all have flaws. Moses had a temper. Peter betrayed Jesus. I have Chappaquiddick.” The other man retorts, “Yeah, Moses had a temper but he never left a girl on the bottom of the Red Sea.” Touché.
Unearthing Truth in History
The cynical side of me wants to think that Kennedy conveniently got past judgment to carve out a career for himself in the subsequent years. But there’s another side, despite being ignorant of the breadth of Senator Kennedy’s career, which surmises that because his aspirations to be President tanked there was no need to keep up the same level of appearances. I’d like to think that out of the ashes of Chappaquiddick, he was able to strive to be a more selfless government representative.
Above all, to pursue the truth is an admirable endeavor and even if this film does not satisfy everyone and alienates people on both sides of the aisle for any number of grievances, maybe that’s still a very constructive outcome. Because it’s true that the way that each one of us interacts with history is very much influenced by this type of Rashomon Effect, based on our own personal biases. The history and the events don’t change. They remain the same but the way we perceive and interpret them are wildly different. It seems like we are a people always trafficking in conspiracy theories. With a film like JFK (1991) maybe it’s a particularly pertinent discussion and for Chappaquiddick as well. I’m not sure.
But it’s fascinating to me how much movies can impact public opinion, especially in hindsight. In that regard, it makes it imperative to take “based on true story” adaptations with a grain of salt and to try and pick up the pieces in order to see if they match up with our perceptions. Of course, there’s a lot of extra work involved. But I think the extra care is well worth it.
To their credit, our two co-screenwriters, Taylor Allen and Andrew Logan, (despite being self-proclaimed dyed-in-the-wool liberals), make no effort to fully exonerate the former senator. His flaws are made evident if not completely damning. What we realize is the dead cannot defend themselves. Certainly, Ted Kennedy is gone now but also Mary Jo. This is an opportunity to acknowledge her own tragedy within this drama that gets so easily overshadowed under all the refuse left behind by the media.
Kate Mara‘s scenes may be few and yet they prove potent even in their subtlety. Mary Jo is still shellshocked and undone by the death of Bobby as she spent tireless hours devoted to his campaign. She is depicted as a woman of talent and compassion — an obvious attempt to rewrite her besmirched image trampled over by the contemporary newspapers and long since forgotten.
Chappaquiddick: Conclusion
What we must always fall back on is the truth. The truth will set you free as they say. But what is the truth? What if our own moral compass is lacking? What if we believe that “Truth” is relative. Then where does that lead us? Can the roads to self-preservation as well as integrity ultimately both lead to redemption?
To watch Chappaquiddick and then ponder the life of Ted Kennedy in such a manner undoubtedly must lead to introspection. Where do our own lives fall along this gradient? Are we any worse than he is or can we claim to be any better? Discover that truth, and the truth will set you free.
What are your thoughts on the sequence of events surrounding Chappaquiddick and Ted Kennedy? What were some pros and cons of how the film chose to portray them?
The film was originally released in the U.S. on April 4, 2018 and is nowavailable for streaming online in the U.K.
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