Grace Gummer on Finding Caroline’s Strength and Humanity in Love Story

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In Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette, Grace Gummer delivers a performance defined by restraint, emotional depth, and quiet strength. Playing Caroline Kennedy, Gummer approached the role not through imitation, but through understanding the emotional essence of a woman who has spent her life navigating both immense public scrutiny and deeply private grief.

Gummer reflected on building Caroline’s relationships within the series, particularly the deeply intimate sibling dynamic with John F. Kennedy Jr., portrayed by Paul Kelly and the ways costume, physicality, and emotional trust shaped her portrayal.

“It’s about capturing an energy and an essence. It’s not necessarily about a full-on imitation of someone.”

For Gummer, one of the most defining scenes came before filming had even begun: her audition scene with John during their mother’s wake. The moment immediately revealed the emotional language shared between the siblings, one built equally on grief, humor, and unspoken understanding.

“What I loved about that scene,” Gummer explained, “was all the humor in their relationship and all the beautiful nuanced little connections that they have with each other.”

Even in the midst of loss, the scene allows the siblings to find comfort through shared memories, including a story about Jackie Kennedy reprimanding Caroline for growing marijuana in the garden. For Gummer, those details grounded the relationship in something recognizably human.

“In a moment of severe grief, they can hold each other’s hand through memories and love and laughter.”

That emotional shorthand quickly extended off camera as well. The wake scene became the first sequence Gummer and Kelly filmed together, and before every take the two actors made a point of physically embracing one another to establish the intimacy and trust their characters shared.

“Before every take, I would just go up to him and hug him,” she said. “We always took that moment to connect to each other.”

The result is a sibling relationship that feels instinctive and lived-in. Small moments such as throwing birthday candles at each other, teasing one another, silently communicating across a room which all create the sense of a bond that predates the audience ever meeting them.

“He really felt like my little brother.”

In preparing for the role, Gummer immersed herself in biographies and articles about Caroline Kennedy, including a particularly influential early 2000s profile in The New Yorker.

The article helped her understand Caroline’s public presence, her restraint, privacy, wit, and quiet authority.

“She’s formidable,” Gummer said. “It painted a picture of what you would notice about her if you were in the same room as her.”

Still, Gummer emphasized that her goal was never impersonation. Instead, she focused on interpreting Caroline emotionally while honoring the humanity behind the public figure.

“I’m not interested in any kind of imitation. It’s my interpretation, my vision that I’m presenting.”

That philosophy shaped every aspect of the performance, from vocal choices to mannerisms. Rather than reproducing exact behaviors, Gummer concentrated on conveying Caroline’s intelligence, fortitude, and emotional restraint.

As someone with a strong appreciation for fashion and character-building through clothing, Gummer described one specific costume fitting as the moment Caroline fully came into focus.

It was a vintage Valentino button-up shirt structured with shoulder pads and worn buttoned all the way to the top.

“I hadn’t fully seen her on my body until then,” Gummer said.

The shirt immediately suggested armor: elegance used as protection. Every detail mattered, from the sleeves buttoned at the cuffs to the sharp silhouette that captured the polished restraint of 1990s high society.

“I saw it as soon as I put on that shirt… ‘Oh, here she is. She’s arrived.’”

The wardrobe also helped reinforce the subtle distinction between Caroline’s public and private selves. Gummer never wanted her to feel like two entirely different people depending on the setting. Instead, she focused on the constant awareness that accompanies a life spent in the public eye.

“There is an awareness of the outside world and the public gaze looking in on her,” she explained.

Some of the series’ most affecting scenes rely not on dialogue, but on silence. Gummer singled out a moment where John informs Caroline of their mother’s death with only a glance between them.

Despite filming the scene repeatedly, Gummer said Kelly’s performance devastated her each time because he approached the moment differently on every take.

“Every single time he shattered me.”

Those emotionally raw scenes became foundational for the rest of the series, establishing the depth of shared loss between the siblings from the very beginning of production.

“It planted the seeds for the rest of the garden to grow,” Gummer said of shooting those scenes early.

Later episodes push Caroline into even deeper emotional territory as she navigates overwhelming grief. Gummer described grief not as a singular emotion, but as waves crashing repeatedly over someone who has already endured profound loss.

“There’s this wisdom garnered through unthinkable tragedy.”

One particularly intense kitchen scene required numerous takes under director Anthony Hemingway, leaving Gummer physically and emotionally exhausted.

“After the seventh or eighth take, I was like, ‘I cannot do this again,’” she admitted. “And he said, ‘I know you have more.’”

The emotional depletion from filming that sequence ultimately informed Caroline’s later stillness and restraint.

“There was nothing left,” Gummer said.

Q&A on the series Love Story with actor Grace Gummer. Moderated by Mara Webster.