There is very little doubt in my mind that this is the most important film ever made.
For once in American history, someone stood up.
That man was Jim Garrison.
When I used to spend time in New Orleans I shuddered at the courage this man had.
He had the courage to take on everything.
But this epic would not have received its rightful place in history without the auteur Oliver Stone.
Making this film was an immense act of courage.
Search your heart.
Sit alone at 2:00 a.m. on the outskirts of Nola.
The deepest, darkest part of the night.
Oliver Stone captures the beauty of humanity in the story of Jim Garrison.
Few dramatic performances have ever affected me so much as Kevin Costner’s here.
But you must look deeper.
Look to Jim Marrs.
Long ago I heard Alex Jones proclaim on air that JFK was his favorite film.
Long ago I saw JFK as a first-run film in the theater.
But I didn’t see this 3-hour-8-minute version.
I’m pretty sure of that.
Because I was just a child.
I heard the drums.
I heard the moving music of John Williams.
But, alas, it was 3’08” which was before me.
It takes a lifetime to appreciate what Mr. X is getting at.
It is packed tight as a can of sardines (even at 3’08”).
Eisenhower’s farewell address.
Really listen to it.
The nervous glances aside.
What is he announcing?
Does he not have immense testicles to yell such from the tower?
But let’s take a trip…
Acting. Real fucking acting.
If Costner didn’t have the Garrison role, Pesci might have taken it.
Stole the show.
Kevin Bacon at Angola.
Leadbelly, not Neto.
IS THIS THE MPLA?
I THOUGHT IT WAS THE UK!
You can see the parallel now in Dr. Steve Pieczenik.
You gotta watch it.
Donald Sutherland gets even closer than Pesci.
It’s that moment he says, “bubba”.
Yeah, that’s the right track.
That’s a lifetime of work.
That’s putting your ass on the line.
Have you ever put your ass on the line?
Really laying it all out there and staring into the void.
That’s the encouragement.
The words you need to hear from someone who’s paying attention.
Someone who’s saying, “Don’t be afraid of the bastards. Hit ’em back.”
Contrasted with Pesci as a walking pot of coffee.
Feel that fear for a moment.
You don’t live in a bubble
You have family.
You have people you love.
You risk it all because you know it is the right thing to do.
To ask questions.
To use your mind where none dare tread.
Who’s the Jim Garrison of today?
Yes, it is Alex Jones.
He has earned that.
But it is also very much James Tracy.
Sissy Spacek cannot compete with Costner.
And she shouldn’t.
But she’s indispensable.
The back and forth in the hallway.
She ain’t walking down that hallway anymore.
Watch JFK and you’ll understand why Anderson Cooper is a coward.
Watch the hit piece directed at Garrison.
Sad, sad men (the SAD/SOG).
Come to know Lyman L. Lemnitzer. Very few LLLs in history.
Don’t stop at Operation Mongoose.
Know the much more important Operation Northwoods (otherwise known as 9/11).
For all of the bigots out there, come to understand just how many things Israel COULD NOT have done (which were essential to 9/11).
And yet they are no doubt involved.
On the wrong side.
Just like their appalling treatment of the Palestinians.
Notice I didn’t say Jews. And I didn’t say anti-Semitism.
Pesci’s character nails it.
But we still need Gary Oldman as Oswald.
What’s on the gravestone?
Maybe it’s not rogue elements after all.
It’s the whole damn thing.
But who warned us?
They were inside the machine.
Martin Luther King.
Go to Dallas.
Feel the evil.
Like a pothole filled with steaming shit.
Thanks Michael Ovitz.
Did you really convince Costner to take the part?
More importantly, thank you Costner.
Yeah, that’s some method acting.
And it’s far too important not to feel.
With every fiber of one’s being.
Stone took the right take.
There could be only one like that.
In the courtroom.
We don’t even notice the cuts.
Academy Award for editing.
Including a chap named Scalia.
Tommy Lee Jones as the incarnation of evil.
Dainty. Subtle. Shades of James Mason from NXNW.
Tommy Lee Jones from my hometown.
I seen him at a Mexican restaurant.
And we hold out hope that the planet remembers us.
Ed Asner who stood up when the shit hit the fan after 9/11.
Where were these other fuckers? Still basking in the glory of JFK?
That’s too bad because their words then ring hollow.
How about Field of Dreams? Go the distance.
Back, and to the left.
Back, and to the left.
Back, and to the left.
John Candy as perfection.
A serious role.
Fuck all you motherfuckers!
Martin Sheen is for real.
Charlie Sheen, while not in this movie, put so many social activists to shame.
Real testicular girth.
Jim Garrison as Earl Warren.
The Coke bottle disorientation.
But the erudition.
The evil erudition.
Sean Stone is what we’re fighting for.
That’s real shit.
Mohrenschildt in Pappy Bush’s pocketbook.
Not the whole Rolodex.
Just the kind of thing you’d take on an ice-skating trip in a thunderstorm to Houston.
It’s always raining.
And a little hunting.
It comes back to Cuba.
Enough to write a book.
And publish it.
A lot of work for a little piece of meat.
Oliver Stone’s not the genius. Jim Garrison is.
Always will be.
But Garrison needed Stone.
Counter gangs. Webster Tarpley.
Frank Kitson. Low intensity.
Where Jane Rusconi and Yale University come in.
I take it all back.
A dick-measuring contest about how many books one has read.
Garrison. Stone. Rusconi.
Ok, I take it back again again: Oliver Stone is a genius.
But we need it again.