Perhaps somebody way out in Patagonia is seeing TITANIC for the first time today, but for the rest us it is a memory threatening to dissolve in the mist of passing, prematurely distant, weeks.
I remember TITANIC as a sleek and glossy film which in a way is just as phony as the society beetles that infested the doomed ocean liner on its maiden and only voyage. That is not to say that it is not a triumph of technique and virtuosity, polished to a high sheen and resplendent from start to finish. The seeming dichotomy brings home the realization that a movie can be devoid of any trace of imagination and all suspicion of originality and still be a tour de force. TITANIC represents a triumph of the stereotype; it is the epitome of cliché elevated to dogmatic proportions. (For another example of unadulterated cliche risen to the level of virtue one is reminded of Kramer Versus Kramer). And yet, despite its phoniness and brainlessness, it is still a damn good movie because it entertains pleasantly and is beautiful to watch. That one of the most horrid maritime disasters of all time can be transformed into a pleasantly entertaining film which is more beautiful than disturbing is an interesting commentary on the virtuosity of the Hollywood alchemists.
But I overstate my case. The juxtaposition of the contemporary with the historical was indeed a fine creative touch (albeit not astoundingly original); but standing by its lonesome outside of the story, it is insufficient to save the rest of the film from the rap of wall to wall cliches and lack of imagination. Beyond that, I searched my recollection for flashes of originality and came up with nothing more than the whistle scene. Even the touted device of spiriting out an old survivor to tell the story of a long-ago disaster is hardly an immaculate conceptus.
Still TITANIC succeeds splendidly as a fairy tale. It is De Caprio's second crack at the Romeo and Juliet thing, and this time he gets it right. I can understand why he boycotted the Academy Awards; he was robbed. It is not often that an actor can flesh out a cardboard character and make it vibrant and compelling. Leo unlocked the usually unrealized power of cliches; which is based on the fact that nothing which is not profoundly human can ever become a cliché. It may be that TITANIC was unsinkable, but without Leo it would not have floated as majestic; it would have been just another well made superproduction. Kate was nominated and she was a fine Juliet, but it was Leo, not Kate, who stirred the juices of TITANIC and gave a heart to the tin man. His failure to get even a nomination is a travesty. How often does one get to see a flawless piece of work?
James Cameron deserves full credit for steering TITANIC past a plethora of icebergs, some of his own making; but in proclaiming himself King of the World he went clearly overboard. I also fail to understand the wisdom or merit of carrying the authenticity concept beyond the simulation of splendor, which is all that the camera can see. The camera doesn't care if it's real mahogany; it just wants it to look like mahogany. Cameron could have saved a bundle by simply growing up. After all, his crown and scepter ARE phony.
TITANIC is not an important film the way GONE WITH THE WIND and GHANDI are. It is important only as a big, well made film; it is another triumph of style over substance. Not that there is anything wrong with that. If one can not be both skillful and original, mere skill can still deliver a worthy product.
4 1/2 stars out of 5 Jerry gp14@usa.net
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