On November 22, 1963, Lee Harvey Oswald gunned down the President of the United States in the most spectacular assassination in history. He was arrested in double quick time, not for the Kennedy assassination, but for the cold-blooded execution of a police officer who perhaps acting on instinct had challenged him in a routine stop.
It took no time at all for the authorities to connect Oswald to the first crime, and in due course he would have been indicted for the assassination, tried, convicted, and sentenced to death. But forty-eight hours after the crime of the century, Oswald himself fell victim to an assassin's bullet.
Up to a point, this docu-drama does a reasonable job of tracing that predictable but abandoned future by airbrushing Jack Ruby out of the picture and putting Oswald on trial. There are no faults with the acting, especially that of John Pleshette who bears a more than superficial resemblance to Oswald and who mimics the mannerisms and moods of this narcissistic non-entity to a tee. Unfortunately, towards the end the film loses its way in a maze of manufactured conspiracy. While it is true that these imaginary conspiracies were extant rather than newly invented, a more straightforward approach would have had true historical legitimacy.
Nevertheless, some people will have liked it, and the ending is certainly novel, like everything else about the life and death of Lee Harvey Oswald.
