20 years?? I saw it in the theatre 4 times when I was living in Chicago. No, I was not a Tween, although no judgment of the Tweens who vibed to it too. I was in love with it from the jump, and have never been ashamed of that love. I also don’t believe in guilty pleasures. Unless your pleasures involve boiling puppies – for which you SHOULD be ashamed – then you should never feel guilty about pleasures. This Life sucks and is often a VALE OF TEARS. If something gives you pleasure? LOVE IT as hard as you can.
There have been a couple of recent essays about Titanic, in honor of its anniversary, that I wanted to share. It’s been forever since I’ve read thoughtful commentary on the film.
Here’s Tom Carson in Playboy. (There’s also a lot of background information on the creation of the film.)
Call me soft in the head, but I was a sucker for Titanic in 1997 and I haven’t changed my mind. I got off on it partly because a communal event this enormous generated an excitement that was a blast to participate in. But Cameron’s extravaganza was also a reminder that movies lacking subtlety and refinement can be great experiences anyway. Immersive wasn’t a critical buzzworld then, but if any movie defined the category, Titanic did.
This next essay is fascinating and emotional: Alissa Wilkinson (another one of the critics voted into the NYFFC this year) was homeschooled and never saw Titanic on its original release. So THIS is so interesting: an adult experiencing Titanic for the first time, and basically figuring out belatedly what the fuss was about. I love this essay.
I actually had a Tumblr devoted to screen-grabs from Titanic, and I can’t remember what it is. The story is a good one, of course, but I also think it’s beautifully told. The doll on the bottom of the ocean. The glasses. The plates falling off the shelves in slo-mo. Etc.
And then there’s this: I didn’t even notice this until I finally bought the DVD and studied the film.
In the first scene in Titanic where old Rose sits at her pottery wheel, we are absorbed in taking in her hands, her face, the light, the sound of the TV screen in the background, putting together the visual information.
Only after seeing the film multiple times, did I notice her earrings.
It’s so obvious once you see it, and may seem too obvious, but it’s not. A detail like this works in a subtle unspoken way. People are often surrounded by relics of the person they used to be, talismanic objects reminding them of a certain person, a certain time. (I am one of those people.) Rose is happy and involved in her art project. She is not sitting in a rocking chair, dreamily touching her Heart of the Ocean earrings. They’re baubles she wears, maybe on a day when she needs a little boost of energy or confidence. (Maybe it’s just me, but I stole a cup one day from a diner because I knew I would want a talisman from a special time.) And so, Rose’s earrings tell the whole story, in her very first entrance into the film.
Who knows when she saw them in a glass case in a shop somewhere – recently? Or maybe a couple of years after she returned to America? – or maybe on a table at a sidewalk sale, but I can see her stopping immediately in her tracks, and thinking: Oh. Oh. I must have those.
/I also don’t believe in guilty pleasures. Unless your pleasures involve boiling puppies – for which you SHOULD be ashamed – then you should never feel guilty about pleasures. This Life sucks and is often a VALE OF TEARS. If something gives you pleasure? LOVE IT as hard as you can./
You are so right.
I was 11 when it came out, a tween, and I remember being in the city and going to see it in the theater and properly bawling like a tween. I also begged to buy the VHS (which was actually two tapes since it is so long) and then watched it several more times. But I haven’t seen it since. I also remember watching the Oscars that followed and all the hoopla, which I was gung ho for. It really was a cultural phenomenon at the time, and reading the two excellent essays you posted, helped to remind me of that. I had kind of forgotten what an explosion it was and it’s hard to believe it’s been 20 years!!
‘Up to then, the Titanic story had always been seen as a parable of the collapse of the pre-World War One old order, from its serene confidence in technological progress to its equation of civilized values with aristocratic ones. Cameron turned the sinking into the raw beginning of a new age instead. That’s the point of Rose/Winslet’s Picasso paintings and dining-room chatter about Freud, not to mention her climactic declaration of female independence. It’s not an accident that her journey ends when she looks up at the Statue of Liberty in the rain; at least given how Cameron has stacked the decks, she’s the most important Titanic survivor of all. Metaphorically speaking, she’s pregnant with the whole rest of the 20th century.”
That’s interesting to think about for me now since I haven’t really thought much about it since. Of course it’s unavoidably historical, but with Cameron at the helm it’s clearly not about accuracy and more about the drama and impact of such an event. And what both authors really drive home in their posts is that despite the many things to complain about (and there are many… I mean it’s James Cameron. He is who he is, if anything) there are so many other things to enjoy, and to to enjoy precisely because they are OTT or silly or epic or pure tearjerkers: “Disdaining Titanic because it’s vulgar and sappy, just means you’ve given up on the pleasures of movies as spellbinding folklore.” True, and also true that it wouldn’t have worked any other way. The broad-stroke direction, in retrospect, seems necessary in order to tell that kind of historical/disaster/romance/tragedy with all those moving parts.
“There are times when I’m relieved to have avoided some of the worst parts of pop culture as a teenager, but there are others when I recognize the effect that cloistering had, one that involved being starved of stories that could make sense of the emotions I felt swirling around inside me. I sometimes wonder if some pieces of me ended up locked in a safe, like Rose’s iconic necklace, with no way to escape. I never sat in a theater and wept over love and death as a teenager, years before I’d have to confront those feelings for real.” Beautiful and interesting POV here, and recognizing, through the metaphor of Rose’s necklace, the possible damage or loss that “cloistering had” on her in smaller, more subtle but equally profound, ways. I’m not sure I’m up for watching it again, but it’s kind of fun to look back now at that whole bonanza and remember how OBSESSED and lovesick I was about it all.
// The broad-stroke direction, in retrospect, seems necessary in order to tell that kind of historical/disaster/romance/tragedy with all those moving parts. //
Yes I really think this is true.
and it’s weird because more often than not, trying to make a huge real-life tragedy “relatable” in the way Cameron does – by making up a fictional character going through something as Rome burns, or whatever – normally doesn’t work for me. It feels pandering and over-simplifying – OR I’m more interested in the real-life events, not the fictional character trying to survive them. But he found a way to make it work. Maybe because he gives both equal sway. I’m still not sure how he pulled it off.
I think it has to do with empathy. Cameron is obsessed with the Titanic, and obsessed with what everyone on board went through. The details of the ship sinking – it’s not just the spectacle of it. It’s the horror of it. One of the images that really sticks with me is when the ship is tilting up into the air and Jack and Rose are climbing upwards to get to the railing – and the priest is holding onto one of the stair railings, praying – ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” – and a group of people clustered around him – It’s a detail like that that makes the event REAL – it makes the sorrow and horror palpable, in a way that does not feel exploitive (for the most part) – but mournful in a very present and present-tense way.
But – somehow – magically – it’s Jack and Rose that makes the whole thing REALLY work. It is through them that we get the sorrow/horror.
It’s really quite amazing – still – that it works as well as it does.
This certainly brings back fond memories. I saw it in the theater (opening night) where I sat with my Evangelical libertarian best friends and my godchild (their home schooled seven-year-old) on one side and three teenage girls on the other. We all liked the movie and it was clearly holding the audience’s attention (even the seven year old’s…I was keeping tabs). Then, towards the end, when Kate and Leo are having their big scene, I heard a sound coming form my left. I glanced over and saw all three teenage girls absolutely weeping. Like dabbing their eyes with the collars of their sweaters weeping. And I thought: Man, this thing is going to be very, VERY big. Beautiful times.
// I glanced over and saw all three teenage girls absolutely weeping. Like dabbing their eyes with the collars of their sweaters weeping. And I thought: Man, this thing is going to be very, VERY big. //
Ha!!! That’s great.
Great observation and post about the earrings! Cameron is obsessed with Titanic. He’s visited it many times. I saw the documentary Ghosts of the Abyss (2003) where it’s easy to see that obsession. He was (coincidentally/ironically/eerily) down there when the planes hit on 9/11. He’s probably down there right now trying to find the missing rivet on port-side D-deck.
That obsession really comes through in the movie. The detail everywhere is meticulous. The clothes. The food. The plates. The little satisfying moments like the earrings are everywhere, like when the boy spins the top, and we see someone snap the famous photo. And the framing device, especially the computer recreation of the sinking, is really useful to help us follow what’s happening later on. From the moment the lookouts spot the iceberg onward, it’s just stunning action, and completely believable.
Cameron is also just a natural storyteller. How many 3 hour + movies don’t drag at all? And how many times have we seen star crossed lovers? Yet people were SHOOK UP about Jack’s death. Sobbing openly. I mean bawling. If it were easy to do filmmakers would do it more often. It’s quite a movie. Stunning really. Any backlash is pretty hollow now, just seems like sour grapes.
// He’s probably down there right now trying to find the missing rivet on port-side D-deck. //
hahahahaha
// And the framing device, especially the computer recreation of the sinking, is really useful to help us follow what’s happening later on. //
Yes – I think the framing device is so important. It kind of locates us – and pays off BIG when the event starts going down. If you just started the movie with Jack winning the tickets in the poker game – it just … it wouldn’t have worked as well. You need that multi-layered flashback structure – the boat itself, and then Rose’s perspective on her life –
// If it were easy to do filmmakers would do it more often. //
So true!!
I love the backstory you gave those earrings, Sheila!
These essays are wonderful, especially the 2nd one–I think I might have been about the author’s age when the movie came out. I remember seeing just the trailer in the theater and actually almost bursting into tears. I’d been fascinated by Ballard’s discovery of the wreck, all the coverage on it in the late 80’s, and the photo spread in National Geographic–I’ll never forget the shock I experienced when I turned the page and saw that picture of the doll’s head on the ocean floor. Such an indelible image, both poignant and eerie.
So for me, the most thrilling parts of the movie were, in fact, the fades from the wreck to the pristine ship, the attention to detail, the depictions of people who were actually there, from the famous like the band to the background characters, which left me feeling like the movie was populated by ghosts. As Todd says, stunning.
// So for me, the most thrilling parts of the movie were, in fact, the fades from the wreck to the pristine ship, the attention to detail, the depictions of people who were actually there, from the famous like the band to the background characters, which left me feeling like the movie was populated by ghosts. //
Beautifully put!
I loved those sequences too. And how Cameron kept reminding us: all of this will be at the bottom of the ocean in 24 hours: with Jack and Rose on the prow suddenly morphing into the ship at the bottom of the sea – the “present” becoming “past” – not just of the ship, but of THEM.
There’s a great mournfulness in the film – amazing to find in an epic geared at teenagers.
I recently watched Titanic for the first time. Had seen clips. Read all the stuff. Sometimes just stubbornly resist something that so overwhelms the culture. Decided it was too long and probably sappy so I could skip it. I was wrong.
Now I get it.
// Decided it was too long and probably sappy so I could skip it. I was wrong. //
Ha! That’s one of the reasons why I was so interested in Alissa’s piece: of course there are those who did not see Titanic in its first release – or, hell, Star Wars – or ET – or any of these other cultural touchstones. So what is it like to watch something which is so weighted down with commentary? (It’s kind of like when I finally decided to read Ulysses.)
Titanic holds up, too – that’s one of the more shocking things about it. I was “swept away” by it when i first saw it. A lot of times when I revisit such movies, I go, “Oh, okay, you were in a certain mood when you saw this … that’s why it got to you so deeply …” But Titanic is still powerful. It’s not tied to time/place/mood.
It’s really quite extraordinary.
“you should never feel guilty about pleasures. This Life sucks and is often a VALE OF TEARS. If something gives you pleasure? LOVE IT as hard as you can.”
i sort of want this painted on a mug. i lol’d, but it is also true.
Ha! People feeling “guilty’ about liking something?? Are they CRACKED? LOVE AWAY.
I am looking forward to reading the second essay; I was only home schooled one year, but I was very sheltered – no TV for nearly all my childhood, no movies in theaters – so I missed out on a lot. The first movie I saw in a movie theater (I had seen some on VCR) was Patriot Games. I was in my twenties. I always knew I was missing out on that joint cultural understanding that other kids my age shared because of my upbringing; one I really regretted was Star Wars. I WANTED to see that so badly but didn’t until I was an adult. My parents weren’t just trying to shelter me from bad language and sex; they also wanted to avoid that communal experience because we were to be separate from the world.
Alissa writes very eloquently on her experiences as a sheltered child in an Evangelical cloistered environment. She watches everything now, of course, but comes from a different context – I always want to hear what she thinks about things. And she is AWESOME on religious films. Her essay on Martin Scorsese’s “Silence” is a perfect example – I think it’s the best thing written on the film. Many critics had a lot of problems with the Catholicism as portrayed – but my viewpoint was: Who the hell cares what YOU think about the religion in this film? It’s Scorsese’s viewpoint as a tormented Catholic – in many ways it’s the most personal film he ever made. Alissa’s review was a great counterpoint. I’ll try to track it down. Again, I think her context – coming from a childhood where the novel on which the movie was based was practically required reading – gave her insights other people didn’t have.
Her essay on Titanic is gorgeous – she was imagining the impact it would have had on her as a 14 year old.
Here’s her review on Silence:
https://www.vox.com/culture/2016/12/21/14005760/silence-review-spoilers-martin-scorsese-andrew-garfield-adam-driver
That WAS interesting. I haven’t seen Silence yet (so I skipped the part she said contained spoilers), but I want to. I wonder how it would compare to The Mission which also deals with faith, suffering, and colonialism.
Silence is more insular, I think – as well as longer, more grueling. Huddled hidden Catholics, the brutality of a regime persecuting Catholics … and then the final sequence which took my breath away. It’s one of the strongest Catholic movies I’ve ever seen. It takes faith seriously. There is no distance from the importance faith has in these people’s lives. I think that was what critics balked at. But they wanted the movie to be something other than what it was.
Definitely a tough watch.
I loved The Mission too!
I’ve never seen this movie! When I was a youngster-half a century ago-I read this really absorbing book about a submarine that went down, and the few men who escaped the tragedy. It stuck with me so vividly, that feeling of being trapped and not being able to get out-it has almost developed into a phobia for me. Like my husband would love to go on a cruise, but all I can think of is being stuck on ship, and if there is a problem-we would all be screwed.
I wish I could remember the name of that book-and the fact it so much grabbed the attention of a preteen girl, it pretty amazing. Anyway-I feel like I should gird my loins and watch this. The other thing, knowing so many people died, and that it is all true-arrggghhh!
// Like my husband would love to go on a cruise, but all I can think of is being stuck on ship, and if there is a problem-we would all be screwed. //
I have the same phobia. Titanic is definitely horrifying – and was even more so seen on the big screen – because it comes from that empathy I mentioned: the event isn’t glorified, it’s more a way of remembering, a way of saying, “These were people. These were people on a cruise. Those in charge of the boat were grossly negligent and heartlessly arrogant. These people should not have died.” It’s an act of mourning.
I don’t always remember my dreams, but I remember one I had in which I was trapped in a cabin in a slowly sinking cruise ship. I could look out the porthole window and see land, but I couldn’t break through nor could I escape through the corridors because they were already too deeply underwater. I sat in my cabin looking out at a beautiful day knowing death was inevitably coming. It was a strangely calm nightmare but also stiflingly and claustrophobicly scary.
I have been on a three-day cruise and loved it. I don’t think I could go on a submarine though.
Sheila, I’m glad you’ve pointed out the sense of empathy and mourning in the movie. Sometimes I feel that, by reading a story, watching a movie, visiting a museum, or reading a historical marker, I am saying, “I see you. I acknowledge you. I may not have known you, but I now know a part of your story.” History can be so powerful.
I definitely could not go on a submarine. I don’t know how those people do it.
// It was a strangely calm nightmare but also stiflingly and claustrophobicly scary. //
Terrifying!!
// I am saying, “I see you. I acknowledge you. I may not have known you, but I now know a part of your story.” History can be so powerful. //
Definitely. Roger Ebert wrote about this aspect of the film – let me find his review.
Here it is:
https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/titanic-1997
and the sequence I’m talking about comes in the final paragraph:
“The image from the Titanic that has haunted me, ever since I first read the story of the great ship, involves the moments right after it sank. The night sea was quiet enough so that cries for help carried easily across the water to the lifeboats, which drew prudently away. Still dressed up in the latest fashions, hundreds froze and drowned. What an extraordinary position to find yourself in after spending all that money for a ticket on an unsinkable ship.”
“Titanic” has been labeled a “guilty pleasure” and a “chick flick”.
Hmm….
“Chick flick” is often shorthand for “Gigantic Money-Making Worldwide Sensation.”