The separation from the event over time and space was first established as I had never been formally educated on the Kennedy assassination. I knew he was on the list of Presidents assassinated, but I'd never really learned very much about him as a President or a person. I didn't know his stance on policies, I most certainly had no idea what the Bay of Pigs was. Being born close enough as I was after the event put me in the perfect spot where teachers didn't consider it "history" yet, but I was far enough after that the event was no longer part of normal conversation. Although I consider myself decently educated on world events through the twentieth century, I have learned more about JFK's assassination during this class that at any other point in my life.
Upon watching the film for the first time, I realized that it was low enough quality that I could watch it without feeling like I was going to hurl.
I'm fine seeing someone get chopped in half, if it's a special effect in an action movie. Seeing someone's head get blown apart, REALLY, is a completely different story. The separation, visually, physically, and emotionally, makes learning about Jack Kennedy's last moments a realistic option for me.
And but, as DeLillo observes, there's something about the familiar grainy, saturated-color quality that, for so many viewers, indelibly evokes home movies screened in the family den--birthday parties, weddings, kids learning to ride bikes--that gives the very film style itself an eerie aura, the violence somehow additionally horrific.
ReplyDeleteShaleen's recent blog post points out that Zapruder himself was so traumatized by his unintentional entry into world history as a famous filmmaker that he got rid of his camera and never filmed anything again. I hadn't heard that before. Just one more strange coincidence of fate in this story, that the name Zapruder is indelibly linked to that of the president of the United States, and like so many dragged into this story, he's not especially psyched to be part of it.