FANTASIA OBSCURA: Imagine an Alternate Reality Where Lee Harvey Oswald Survived and Went to Trial…
There are some fantasy, science fiction, and horror films that not every fan has caught. Not every film ever made has been seen by the audience that lives for such fare. Some of these deserve another look, because sometimes not every film should remain obscure.
Sometimes, asking the question “What if… ?” gets you to places you were better off not going to…
The Trial of Lee Harvey Oswald (1964)
Distributed by: Falcon International Corp.
Directed by: Larry Buchanan
Who here remembers Hillary Clinton winning the presidency in 2016? Or how Al Gore won the Florida recount case in 2001? Or that Beatles album that was the follow-up to Abbey Road?
Well, maybe not in this universe…
There’s a whole body of work in genre under the heading “Alternate history” which considers different outcomes to events that unfolded in ways other than what we experienced. This sub-field has quite a number of genre milestones that the general audience has had contact with, such as Ward Moore’s Bring the Jubilee, Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle, and Michael Chabon’s The Yiddish Policeman’s Union. There have been many writers who have dabbled in this work, including Len Deighton and Winston Churchill, among others.
(…he noted while engaging in a blatant act of self-promotion…)
And like most sub-genres, there’s some stuff that’s a lot better than others, Buchanan’s script for his film being among the later.
The film opens with a crawl that states what’s to come for the next 90 minutes or so, noting that this is a dramatization, and includes a brief statement about the release history of the film:
Apparently, Buchanan and company either didn’t hear or ignored that idea that a lack of good taste might have been pointed out to them…
From there, we get as promised a recreation of the trial that would have been given to the assassin of President Kennedy, had Jack Ruby not shot him two days later. We open during jury selection as the opening credits play over the process, where the last juror to appear for the case is argued over between Atkins, representing the state (Arthur Nations), and Oswald’s counsel Tyler (George R. Russell). Both state their case to the Judge (George Edgley), who decides the last juror can be empaneled.
It’s quickly apparent as all three talk into the camera that we, the members of the audience, are to become Juror #12. Which means whatever tricks you’ve practiced to get out of jury duty did not work here…
From there, Atkins presents the prosecution’s case, including witnesses and physical evidence from the scene. There’s quite a few folk who give their testimony but not their names (for obvious reasons), including Bill Peck, Annebelle Weenick, Bill McGhee, and Bill Thurman in his first credited role. It’s a long presentation built from news stories and artifacts, including use of the actual Oswald interviews on WDSU in August of 1963. (We’re teased that we’d get a look of footage of the assassination before it is struck from the evidence. This saves Buchanan from having to use the Zapruder Film, which Life magazine owned the rights to back then and would have strenuously defended in court.)
The last third of the film concentrates on Tyler’s presentation. His defense rests on casting doubt on the evidence, while simultaneously pursuing a not guilty by reason of insanity plea. Which for an exploitative quickie film does a better job of discussing mental health issues and portrayals than is usually found in drive-in fare.
We get closing arguments soon after, before there’s a few words from Buchanan’s consultant, defense attorney Charles Tessmer. He notes how other presidential assassins fared when they had gone to trial, placing context over this thought experiment as it wraps up.
And while the above certainly made for an interesting thought experiment, it didn’t make for good cinema. Imagine if you can, coverage on a public access channel of traffic court, and that sums up the energy brought to the film. Most of what we see is in the sole courtroom set, interrupted by some footage taken around Dallas; one sequence used multiple times includes a quick two-cut montage of Dealey Plaza with three zoom shots accompanied by rifle fire, to remind you of why everyone’s in court.
About the only other time Buchanan gives us a break from showing the proceedings comes from close-ups of Oswald’s eyes as the testimony unfolds. Oswald is played by Charles Mazyrack in his only credited role, who’s eyes at least can pass for a good stand-in for the defendant, who we otherwise don’t see much of.
Speaking of seeing things, as noted earlier, the film had spotty distribution, for what should be obvious reasons. Shot quickly and quietly in Dallas in December of 1963, the film premiered in Mexico in January 1964, and finally gets a limited release in the US in April. There’s very little out there to indicate what happened with the film between April of 1964 and its distribution on DVD by Something Weird Video.
Not that it was missed that much. In 1977, ABC ran a two-night miniseries with the same title, which could boast a better cast and a more interesting presentation. What it did share with Buchanan’s quickie was condemnation for even considering Oswald’s trial as the subject of a film.
But then again, what’s the alternative…?
NEXT TIME: In my day, we walked home from school. We had it tougher then; rain, snow, nuclear attack, no matter what, we would walk!
