It was only a matter of time before Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette drew a line between the central couple and Princess Diana. In the penultimate episode of the Ryan Murphy-produced FX series, the feverish tabloid similarities snap into focus when Carolyn (Sarah Pidgeon) turns on the TV to see news of a car crash in Paris.
A couple of stray lines serve as a harbinger of the horror unfolding in the French capital even before the news reports reveal why Carolyn’s sister Lauren (Sydney Lemmon) has called in a panic.
As soon as John (Paul Anthony Kelly) mentions the day is August 30, my ears pricked up. Even more so when Carolyn notes the next year is 1998.
But the series isn’t trying to be subtle about the hounded-by-the-press parallels or how the public spectacle of this Parisian tragedy ties back to John-John’s experience as a child. Of course, there are also comparisons to The Crown in how creator Connor Hines draws on first-hand accounts and depicts imagined dialogue between the public figures in private spaces. Not to mention the objections from real-life family, and those portrayed object to the dramatized depiction.
The Crown did follow Diana to New York, but all traces of a clandestine meeting with JFK Jr. were erased. In Love Story, the princess crossing paths with Carolyn remains off-screen. “I just saw her at Gianni’s [Versace] funeral. I sat right behind her,” says Carolyn (Fact check: she did).
The fashion designer’s murder was depicted in The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, pointing to the overlapping themes and figures of the extended Ryan Murphy Universe. Nearly a decade ago, the next season of Feud was going to center on Diana’s doomed marriage (until it didn’t).
Given that the previous episode turned Love Story into American Horror Story: Paparazzi, it is not surprising that Carolyn no longer wants to leave the confines of their Tribeca apartment. Even before she learns of Diana’s death, a montage of Carolyn smoking in various weary positions (including draped across the kitchen counter) highlights how the loft has become her refuge. When John gets home from a “violently fine” book party in Midtown, the topic turns to all of Carolyn’s issues with the Kennedy compound getaways.
“I feel like I am on display,” she says. Her comments about how everyone scrutinizes whether she is drinking alcohol (“My body is this living, breathing report card broadcasting the state of our relationship”) illustrate the obsession with the couple having children, which is coming from all angles. Much like Princess Diana, Carolyn has married into a family with plenty of rules (Hyannis Port is Carolyn’s version of Balmoral).
The pressure to become a mother is one link, as is their status as global style icons. Where The Crown offered a reminder of Diana’s off-duty sartorial influence in biker shorts and sweatshirts, Love Story is behind the resurgence of the CBK minimalist aesthetic. Their two wedding gowns couldn’t be more different (ditto their public versus private nuptials), but each woman made a permanent mark on bridal couture.
Much like Emma Corrin and Elizabeth Debicki (who both played Diana in The Crown), Pidgeon is impossible to look away from. Sadness and disbelief are etched on Carolyn’s face as she cannot turn away from the endless news coverage. Whereas John ducks out of the apartment to go for a run, Carolyn is glued to the screen like she is watching a version of her future play out. Of course, we are watching these scenes knowing how Carolyn’s story ends, just as we watched Diana’s pre-Paris superyacht vacation in The Crown with a deep sense of dread.
The two-hander that unfolds in “Exit Strategy” begins on August 30, then cuts to a year later, when the marriage is even more fractured than before. In that window of time after John returns home from his run, the dialogue hammers home the Diana connection.
“She’s dead. They killed her. She did everything right, posed for every photo, gave them everything they wanted, and they still killed her,” Carolyn says.
When John simply refers to this update as “very sad,” Carolyn’s reply is visceral: “It’s monstrous. She was their princess, and they treated her like prey.”
At its core, the push-pull is in how they handle the spotlight. John is like a Labrador puppy, happy to pose for some shots to get them to leave. Meanwhile, Carolyn refuses to play that game and suffers the slings and arrows. The very machine the show is critiquing is part of Love Story’s success; we want to see these private moments, no matter how invented.
The spacious loft becomes the setting for two battles between the couple, which makes it seem like Carolyn hasn’t ventured out in a year. Instead of artfully smoking, Carolyn now lies underneath the glass coffee table, still trapped by circumstances.
If the first 20 minutes revealed a couple willing to do anything for each other, the second half portrays a couple weighed down by expectation and the fame machine.
Having the same fight over and over leads to cruel words that are more vicious than the infamous Washington Square Park showdown. “I didn’t tell you to let the tabloids ruin your life. But you know what? I think there’s a part of you that enjoys this s--t with the press,” John says bluntly. It gets worse. “You relish it. It’s like you have no identity outside of your own victimhood,” he adds. Yikes!
Kelly holds his own, but Pidgeon is operating on another plane. “Thank you. Thank you. You love how hated I am. Of course you do because you’re America’s son, and I am just another tragedy you bravely endure.”
Come the Emmys in September, I can see this clip accompanying what should be a guaranteed nomination for Pidgeon. Then, the Tony nominee can walk the same award-winning path as Debicki for another Princess Diana connection.
In the early fight, John’s initial response is avoidant, then churlish, before Kelly leans into a boyish desperation. He disagrees that this is similar to what happened with his dad, citing that Diana’s kids are literal princes. The Kennedys don’t have official titles, but there is no denying they are essentially America’s royal family.
What he is willing to admit is that the ongoing paparazzi scrum that greets the couple wherever they go is similar to what Diana faced. But it isn’t death behind the wheel that John fears. No, he is scared that Carolyn will never leave the house ever again.
She doesn’t wear a crown, but she is trapped in a castle, and the end is tragically in sight.
