‘Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette’ Review: Beautiful and Doomed

‘Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette’ Review: Beautiful and Doomed

A young Kennedy heir and a fiercely independent fashion publicist fall in love under the relentless glare of media scrutiny, in a romance that would captivate—and ultimately shock—the world.

For years now Ryan Murphy has been working with a curious production model. On the one hand, he develops standalone, self-contained series—like the recent The Beauty. On the other, he oversees several umbrella franchises organized by theme, each season shifting its plotlines and characters: the horror entries fall under American Horror Stories, the crime-based ones under American Crime Story, sports-related dramas under American Sports Story, and so on. Now comes Love Story, notably without the “American” label—presumably because future installments may move beyond U.S. borders. To launch the series, however, Murphy turns to one of the most canonical and tragic love stories in the country’s history, quintessentially American in that it centers on none other than the iconic Kennedy family.

No, this isn’t about the romance between JFK and Jacqueline Bouvier, but about the relationship, in the 1990s, between their youngest son, John F. Kennedy Jr., and Carolyn Bessette—a story that ended, SPOILER ALERT, in tragedy. The series opens near the end, in July 1999, as the couple board the small plane piloted by John Jr. that would never reach its destination. From there, the narrative circles back to the beginning, tracing John’s and Carolyn’s lives in the early part of the decade, before they met. The heir to the most prominent political dynasty in the United States, John (Paul Kelly) was then dating actress Daryl Hannah (Dree Hemingway), was extremely close to his mother Jackie (Naomi Watts), had yet to secure his law degree, and was famous largely for who he was—and for his matinee-idol looks. So much so that People magazine crowned him the “Sexiest Man Alive,” and paparazzi trailed him everywhere.

Carolyn (Sarah Pidgeon) first worked as a sales associate and later as a publicist for Calvin Klein (Sam Rockwell), overseeing the brand’s high-profile ’90s campaigns, including those featuring Kate Moss. The two meet by chance and are immediately struck by one another. What fascinates him most is how little she seems to care about his fame and public image. But their relationship takes time to solidify. He continues an on-again, off-again involvement with Hannah, and Carolyn pulls away when she sees them together—especially after he has told her they were no longer a couple. The early episodes dwell on these preliminaries and romantic false starts, further delayed when Jackie’s health deteriorates and John devotes himself almost entirely to his mother. After Jackie’s death, amid the wave of national mourning that follows, John and Carolyn reconnect. From there, their love story deepens—though over its brief lifespan it would be marked by turbulence, reversals, a highly publicized wedding, and multiple setbacks.

Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette explores these emotional swings in detail, many of them tied to the strain Carolyn experiences as a result of John’s fame and relentless media scrutiny. While he has grown accustomed to it, the attention has also made him wary and somewhat guarded, perpetually suspicious that she—or anyone—might be using him for personal gain. These frictions dominate the first half of the season (Note: the first three episodes premiere Thursday the 12th), with the exception of the third installment, devoted almost entirely to Jackie’s illness and death, where Naomi Watts delivers an impeccable portrayal of the legendary First Lady.

Although the material could arguably be covered in fewer than nine episodes, Murphy proceeds with a restraint that feels both elegant and deliberate, resisting his more operatic instincts and opting instead for a traditional, composed, and unhurried approach. The series’ true star is clearly Pidgeon, whose perspective anchors the narrative. Not only does she bear a striking resemblance to Carolyn, she makes this strong, independent woman entirely believable—a woman who enters a passionate romance with someone accustomed to being at the center of his own orbit. Yet she refuses to be defined as “the wife of” and resists occupying that role. Kelly lags somewhat behind, competently handling a part that hints at the character’s inherent complexity but ultimately leans more heavily on the golden-boy image that made him so sought after.

Meticulously crafted and patient in its pacing, with a soundtrack packed with ’90s hits—enough to program a full decade of FM radio—Love Story offers a solid, intimate launch for Murphy’s new saga. Don’t expect anything especially corrosive or overtly political. What the series aims to recount is one of those tragedies of the rich and famous that once captivated the world. The glamour, the fashion, the atmosphere, the cloistered intimacy of power and money, and above all the shock of the ending—these are its priorities. A love story that unfolds like a fairy tale, beautiful and tragic in equal measure.