Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette Episode 8, “Exit Strategy” Spoilers Ahead
Conversations, or in this case, arguments, are somewhat of a lost art in on-screen storytelling. Yelling isn’t rare. Fights aren’t rare. But a conversation unraveling from quiet concerns to a messy back and forth isn’t something we see often. In fact, the last time it was this compelling was in Challengers, which makes this episode of Love Story extra enticing for me personally.
Disclaimer: Since we’re now at the penultimate episode and things aren’t as dreamy or nostalgic as they were in the beginning, just as it felt wrong to write for last week’s “Obsession,” it feels even more wrong to deconstruct “Exit Strategy.” So, I do want to put a disclaimer of sorts that in no way am I speaking about the real people here, but in the fictional versions we see in Love Story.
While it isn’t a secret that John and Carolyn argued in their marriage (all couples do), the specifics aren’t something we’re owed, in the same way that we were never owed photographs, details, event appearances, or anything else for that matter. There’s much that happens between 1998 and the point of their deaths in 1999, which the season finale will cover, but the penultimate episode keeps the details contained in their apartment, allowing the four walls to scream louder than the heckling onlookers.
This detail is largely what makes “Exit Strategy” so compelling because this is the first where it’s just them, John and Carolyn, left to their own devices and propelled to bargain with all that’s mounted between them. The intimate setting leaves plenty of room to explore the intricacies of a marriage, and the performances are somehow even more haunting than the shots we were left with last week.
Sarah Pidgeon and Paul Anthony Kelly Deliver Their Best Performances in Love Story Episode 8
I’m consistently so floored by Sarah Pidgeon’s performances, I watch all her scenes standing up, but Paul Anthony Kelly effectively meets her halfway this week, matching her heartache with a vulnerability that delivers a gut-punch. As much as this is a love story between two people, it’s an ode to Carolyn Bessette Kennedy in more ways than one. All eyes are on her, and a part of me feels like JFK Jr. would wholly agree with that as a means of reminding us exactly how awful the darkness was for her. Despite his biting comment that she no longer commands a room because she’s slipping away, the phantoms of her heartbreak are the ones flying all around the room. She’s the one we can’t stop rooting for. She’s the one we’re desperate to see good things for.
Her expressions are the ones that are going to haunt me for a long, long time, and that final shot, coupled with Pidgeon’s guttural sobs, is among some of the best beats of acting in recent years. I said it last week, but I’ll say it again: it’s easy to allow moments like this to get away from the actors. It’s easy to overdo it, but instead, Pidgeon brilliantly ensures that we feel everything Carolyn is feeling by the sheer fact that she tries to fully understand all that could’ve plagued her. She’s fully empathizing with all that Carolyn went through, trying to guarantee that her heartaches serve as a cautionary tale. In addition, she’s delivering a realistic heartache, allowing us to understand her as well. In the fictionalized version, the darkness encasing her is not only tethered to the fact that she’s losing her agency because of the public eye and the expectations of the Kennedy dynasty, but it’s also the inability to just… sit still.
We often forget how young Carolyn was when all of this unfolded. Contrary to younger generations and the belief that those of us in our thirties are ancient, as a thirty-four-year-old woman who’s currently battling burnout every single day and crying more than I’d like to admit, I’d give anything for stillness. I’d give anything to just step back and try to figure everything out all over again without people hounding me about whether I’ve tried doing this or that. Whether in good faith or not, no one wants to hear advice they didn’t ask for. It doesn’t matter if it comes from a parent, a spouse, or your closest friends. We know.
The specific struggle that Love Story Episode 8 presents is profoundly relatable and so human that we can guarantee countless couples have been in their shoes, minus the specifics of a dynasty line. It’s likely one of the biggest issues in what’s cited as irreconcilable differences in divorce filings. Money and careers are huge factors in a partnership. No, Carolyn doesn’t have to worry about money, given John’s legacy, but the pressures brought on by everyone around her are enough to consistently break someone. Careers are a complex, deeply nuanced issue that we don’t talk about nearly enough, and I appreciate how the episode peels the layers in their marriage by placing this idea of a “purpose” at the center.
Because to countless couples out there, an argument like this very much feels real. It’s not a one-and-done thing, so the fact that the episode spends ample time on it is telling because it’s what makes the story feel rare in fiction. It’s why Challengers also works so well because the perils of what tennis means and how it’s essentially fractured the characters is the same story in disguise. Add any bit of spotlight to that, familial woes, every minute annoyance, and every passing day, the time bomb grows more dangerous.
The Softness, The Vulnerability, The Pain
Another reason why this episode is a narrative treat is that it delivers every breathtaking emotion necessary to make a love story compelling. To have John play Sade’s “No Ordinary Love” again and pull Carolyn into his arms for a slow dance as he voices how much he misses her before everything tumbles downward is so delicately heartbreaking that it’s almost healing. Because it’s in this same episode that we get another parallel to John’s near-panic attack at the thought of losing Carolyn the same way he lost his mom. When it comes to her, he’ll crack himself wide open, metaphorically place his heart in her hands, and do everything in his power to prove that his love for her is indeed unquantifiable.
Kelly is especially great at conveying quiet anxiety in the form of John slowly losing himself as fears start to torment and take hold of him. We see how quickly it almost ensnares him last week when he learns about Anthony’s diagnosis, and it takes him by full force in “Exit Strategy” as he repeats his words and comes undone.
Grief doesn’t leave you, no matter how young you are when it finds you. He might not remember what his father was like, but he knows the pain of growing up without one. He knows the pain of watching kids bond with theirs, while he was robbed of that chance. And the way grief resurfaces in this episode because of Princess Diana’s death makes everything more heartwrenching. Because everything is happening all at once, and when grief demands that you confront it, you have no control over how agonizing it can all be. So his family heartaches coming to the surface while he’s trying to save his marriage is understandably too much, and Paul Anthony Kelly shows this to us perfectly.
“I can’t lose you“ isn’t just a plea—it’s a myriad of emotions punctuated by how deeply he loves her, and Kelly proves the magnitude of John’s adoration through his voice. He ensures that we can catch it in the way his whole body trembles as John desperately tries to keep Carolyn from slipping away. Before she physically comes to him and reminds him to breathe again, every emotion manifests itself as more phantoms in the room, filling the spaces between them. What’s also so fascinating about both Paul Anthony Kelly and Sarah Pidgeon in Love Story Episode 8 is how they make John and Carolyn look so small—so fractured and desperate, both barely hanging on.
The episode’s pacing also organically telegraphs just how swiftly everything can change. One minute you’re slow dancing, and before you know it, you’re begging the love of your life to stay as they pack their bags. The stark contrast of starting the episode with John coming home to John walking away as Carolyn weeps alone in their bedroom is staggering. It’s the kind of scene that secures Love Story’s “Exit Strategy” as the type of remarkable penultimate episode that not only sticks the landing, but also overwhelms in all that it accomplishes. It’s exactly how you want a penultimate episode to be, as it challenges the show’s norms and does something captivating to thrust us into the climax.
Now streaming on Hulu: What are your thoughts about Love Story Episode 8, “Exit Strategy?” Let us know in the comments below.
First Featured Image Credit: ©FX/Hulu