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In last week’s episode, viewers were quick to notice John’s orthopedic boot, signaling the countdown to a significant showdown that would lead to John temporarily leaving the loft. This pivotal moment is closely followed by what would become the final private jet journey for John, Carolyn, and Lauren. Although the episode references an upcoming Kennedy wedding in Hyannis, suggesting a specific timeline, it’s important to remember that with John’s numerous cousins, a Kennedy wedding in Hyannis might as well be an annual summer event. The crux of this episode lies in its acknowledgment of a well-documented narrative: Rory Kennedy’s wedding was poised to be John and Carolyn’s last public engagement as a couple before they planned to announce their separation. Yet, the episode also seeks to affirm the enduring love story that captivated audiences, continuing right up to the tragic final moments of their lives. The episode, penned by series creator Connor Hines, unfolds at a deliberate pace.
Currently, John and Carolyn are living apart but remain committed to marriage counseling. Their therapist Colleen, played by Talia Shire, proposes the idea of a more defined separation, suggesting they suspend contact for a month or two. Both John and Carolyn express doubts about this approach, but Colleen insists that the distance might offer clarity. “You won’t come together, you won’t let go, and instead you are just white-knuckling this marriage into a downward spiral,” she warns, in a moment that feels like foreshadowing. (A rather bold narrative choice by Connor Hines!) Later, at a local dive bar, a simple gesture of leaning over to pay the check seems to reignite a spark between them. The old phrase “Come up and see my etchings” finds a modern replacement in John’s casual request to retrieve his linen blazer, leading to…
…a sudden transition to a passionate encounter. In its aftermath, the couple fondly recalls their most memorable kisses. Carolyn’s choice is a seemingly mundane morning when she was running late for work. John insists she return to give him a proper goodbye kiss, ultimately stopping the elevator to deliver a much more heartfelt embrace.
Back in the present, Carolyn’s expression suggests doubts about recapturing such moments. The next morning, they slip back into familiar arguments. Carolyn struggles with John prioritizing work over their relationship but is hesitant to ask him to skip a breakfast meeting for her. Conversely, John wants Carolyn by his side at a George magazine gala and Rory’s wedding, but she finds it challenging to maintain appearances. They seek advice from trusted confidants: Caroline advises John that Carolyn’s demands might seem unreasonable only because he’s never faced such firm expectations, while Lauren counsels Carolyn to avoid projecting fears of abandonment, rooted in their father’s departure, onto John.
This leads to Carolyn eventually attending the George gala. The anticipation is palpable as John scans the room, waiting for her arrival. The joy on his face when she finally appears is a refreshing moment of happiness amid the recent turmoil.
John parts the crowd of photographers as they make their way to each other. Over the din, he asks what made her change her mind. Carolyn says she knows how important it is to him, and that she wants to try. There are 47 shots from this event on Getty Images; not all of them are of Carolyn and John, but there are more of them than there are anyone else, and it feels like we watch each one of them get snapped as Connor Hines makes this joint appearance a load-bearing moment in their last days on earth, especially once you know that “the George gala” was actually the Newman’s Own/George Awards, which took place almost two months before they died.
After screwing up the moment after the post-counseling hookup, John tries harder to build on the gala appearance, sending a giant floral arrangement to the loft and inviting Carolyn to meet back at the Indian restaurant where they had their very first date. They recap (leave it to the professionals) what they said that night, John remembering that while he confessed to feeling like he was wearing a sign over his head reading “The Hunk Flunks,” Carolyn never shared what her sign said. If Carolyn had admitted that hers was “Please Handle With Care, Not As Tough As She Looks,” there would have been no mystery for him to solve, thus no reason to stay, but knowing him made her want to let him in. John is determined to re-examine his relationships with everyone else in his life, because Carolyn comes first. Carolyn wouldn’t fault John for wanting to meet the expectations he’s been burdened with, but the only thing he thinks he was destined for is her. Apparently he’s so convincing that she even agrees to go to Rory’s wedding…
…which is upon us almost immediately, as Carolyn tells Lauren on the phone that her peace with John may be too fragile to withstand the scrutiny of a Kennedy wedding. Lauren, who’s hitching a ride with them to Martha’s Vineyard, is sure John and Carolyn’s mindset will be different this time, and that Carolyn should go get her nails done…
…and after a few reminders of how tense everyone was on their way to the airstrip, the plane is in the air. Carolyn climbs into the co-pilot seat. John says he missed her. She kisses his hand…just before everything goes to hell. I don’t claim to be an aviation expert, but the alarms, red lights, and “FAIL” readouts all seem bad, as does the murky gray nothingness outside. Lauren closes her eyes, looking serene, and Carolyn, as we’ve seen her do so many times, tells John to breathe. Naturally, we can’t know what anyone’s mood was as John lost his bearings, so we might as well pretend Carolyn and Lauren were calm and confident than imagine their final moments were pure terror.
I personally could have done with a lot less of what follows: ghoulishly imagining how various family members learned, first, that John’s plane was missing, and then that it and its passengers were lost. I’m sure we all feel horrible for Caroline, the last living member of her family of origin, but a lot of her screen time was spent being annoyed, or worse, with her brother and his wife.
Far more effective is what we see of Ann, whose logistics meeting with representatives of the Kennedy family doesn’t give her any reason to revise the view about John and his family that she expressed before the wedding. For one thing, Ed attends in Caroline’s place. For another, he makes it clear that President Clinton’s offer to bury John with Jackie in Arlington National Cemetery doesn’t extend to Carolyn, and that otherwise the Kennedys would insist on interring Carolyn and John together at the family plot in Holyhood. Bristling with rage, Ann asks why her daughter would be buried in a state she has no ties to, and that if the Kennedys were actually that adamant about it, they wouldn’t have sent Ed. She also points out that he keeps talking about Carolyn: “May I remind you that I had not one but TWO daughters on board that plane that HE crashed.” There’s probably a more generous way to phrase it, but hers is the most accurate and concise.
Ann is walking around the loft, crying as she touches Carolyn’s various elegant, tasteful things, when suddenly Caroline appears. When the two women take up opposite ends of the dining table, Caroline offers a half-hearted apology for Ed about wires getting crossed and tries to excuse herself, but Ann won’t be dismissed a second time. Did Caroline know some media are blaming the crash on Carolyn’s late arrival because she stopped to get her nails done, and not on John flying at night without the skills to manage it? Caroline stopped reading the news, but Ann has nothing left to protect but her daughters’ legacies, and is disgusted that while John is on the covers of papers and magazines the world over, Carolyn is relegated to the inside, and Lauren is practically a footnote. Ann’s faith has always helped her make sense of the world, but now there’s just a deafening silence. Caroline replies with the story of a family friend in London who was an MP, and whose car was bombed by the IRA; it was only luck that spared Caroline from being in the car at the time. The incident taught her that there’s no reason some of us get to stay around longer than others; all we can know is that nothing is promised.
Ann softens as Caroline goes on: she only knew Lauren a little but could tell she was impressive. Caroline knew Carolyn a lot better, including that she was struggling, and Caroline will always regret her failure to reach out. Ann cries that Carolyn didn’t recognize who she had become, and now that version of her will be immortalized forever; Ann wishes Carolyn could have lived long enough to have been remembered for something else. Coming around to sit next to Ann and take her hand, Caroline remembers that John had wanted to be cremated, his remains scattered across the sea; Carolyn thought they could spread all their loved ones’ ashes together as one.
Soon enough, it’s the funeral at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Though we get glimpses of the relatives, friends, and frenemies we’ve met over the course of the season — Ethel, Ted, Berman, Anthony, Calvin — the only one whose voice we hear is Ann’s, as she recites first Henry Scott Holland’s “Death Is Nothing At All,” then glides into “Immortality (Do Not Stand By My Grave And Weep)” by Clare Harner. “I am the diamond glints in snow,” we hear, as Caroline, Ann, and Carolyn and Lauren’s stepfather Richard stand on the deck of a Coast Guard boat and empty their urns into the water. “I am the day transcending night,” we hear, as the camera swoops over dunes and finds Carolyn folded in John’s arms.
“Do not stand by my grave and cry. / I am not there, I did not die,” we hear, as the camera flies out over the waves. I hope I’m allowed to sit on my couch and cry, because I did.
Love Notes for Episode 9 (“Search And Recovery”)
- After I was wondering about him around last week’s episode, Friday’s back!
The real Friday had already gone ahead to Hyannis, so even if he couldn’t understand why John and Carolyn never came to retrieve him, at least one may hope he was surrounded by cousins he knew and kept far from the animal abuser among them.
- On the (fated) flight, Carolyn is portrayed reading Brian Friel’s Lovers. Remember when John told Carolyn about getting cast in an Off Broadway play? That was the one.
- After the plane and bodies have been recovered, a Kennedy lawyer explains to Ed that John probably crashed due to spatial disorientation. “Statistics show that between 5 to 10% of all general aviation accidents can be attributed to spatial disorientation, and 90% of these accidents are fatal.”
- The last Love Story playlist additions of the season:
Television Without Pity, Fametracker, and Previously.TV co-founder Tara Ariano has had bylines in The New York Times Magazine, Vanity Fair, Vulture, Slate, Salon, Mel Magazine, Collider, and The Awl, among others. She co-hosts the podcasts Extra Hot Great, Again With This (a compulsively detailed episode-by-episode breakdown of Beverly Hills, 90210 and Melrose Place), Listen To Sassy, and The Sweet Smell Of Succession. She’s also the co-author, with Sarah D. Bunting, of A Very Special 90210 Book: 93 Absolutely Essential Episodes From TV’s Most Notorious Zip Code (Abrams 2020). She lives in Austin.