Saturday, April 14, 2012

Titanic 3D: Revenge of the 'Berg


Titanic, they called it the Movie of Dreams. And it was. It really was Gloria. Sitting in the sparingly filled AMC on the Upper West Side at 7:15pm on a Sunday with my hastily purchased vodka from across the street, Diet Coke with Lime to chase it, and bag of pretzel M and Ms, I felt the same giddiness of my fifth grade self seeing it for the first time. While the refreshments were slightly different, Titanic remains an event movie for me. As far as stories suitable to be put on the screen, the sinking of the RMS Titanic is such a complete no-brainer. The facts are in and of themselves so sensational: an "unsinkable" ship (SPOILER: that moniker becomes ironic), an A-list passenger roster, and a horrific tragedy that has class and gender implications. So meaty!


And then there's the sheer wonder in getting to see the sinking get recreated so vividly and realistically. In the throes of the disaster, you're never drawn attention to the cinematic artifice. I am still convinced that James Cameron went ahead and built THE Titanic, stuck a bunch of actors on it, sank it, and shot what transpired for entertainment's sake, the sick fuck.

Even though widely lauded (11 Oscars) and unbelievably successful (8 bajillion dollars), the backlash was pretty immediate and intense. Ever since, I've been saddled with "Titanic shame": my perpetual embarrassing love for this movie. When I was in fifth grade, this mostly had to do with the fact that even though a lot of people died awful deaths, it was a little too mushy and DiCaprio-y for a boy to like. Now, that I am an older, cosmopolitan aesthete, Titanic is a bit declasse. "Wait, you enjoy it...unironically?" How can you even enjoy something ironically?? Gah.

Lets get the detractions out of the way: heavy handed dialogue and a supporting cast of caricatures, check: Cal Hawtley (Billy Zane) and his henchman Lovejoy (I mean that name...come on?) are a brand of comic book evil; Ismay is obtuse and sniveling, and god love her, Molly Brown (Kathy Bates) is just an old-timey pistol in the vein of Melissa McCarthy's Mae West SNL parody; Fabrizio clearly went to the Nintendo school of acting and the rest of steerage is populated with Ellis Island stereotypes. We do get a few moments of pathos from the Captain and from Victor Garber, but with 3 hours to work with, you expect more in the way of the ensemble's development. You end up feeling the most connected to that Irish woman comforting her kids in bed.

The script isn't always consistent tonally. It can be light and funny thankfully pretty often (this movie taught me to spit like a man!). But the characters very often do deal in cliches. Cameron lets off some groan-y jokes ("like that Russian babe, Anasthesia!") and groan-y dramatics ("that fire that I love about you Rose...that fire's gonna burn out..."). Though I'm happy to report that in 2012, these still do not sink the ship.

And a lot of credit goes to the two at the helm. Jack (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Rose DeWitt Bukater (Kate Winslet) are ridiculously appealing. And if they're burdened with hyperbolic dialogue (Rose, you sailing on the Titanic engaged to a douchebag is not quite the same as being on a "slave ship"), they have an easy chemistry. The best exchanges between the two: their suicidal meet-cute (and it is surprisingly cute!) and Jack calling Rose out on her hypocritical disdain for privilege the next day establishes a great shifting power struggle. And when things do get a tad maudlin, you remember that Jack and Rose are artists and exhibitionists with a flare for the dramatic.

The best thing that could have happened for the legacy of this film is the career trajectories of its two leads. Their stock has only risen as they've racked up nomination after nomination, choosing their projects wisely and maturing as actors uncommonly well. Watching today, you can't help but ignore the juvenile elements of their performances and focus on the kernels of genius that would later become increasingly manifest.

Also buoying the film: the water-cooler worthy melodrama. What other movie jam packs so many iconic moments into a surprisingly brisk 3 hours? Moments that would have been memorable even if only eight people ended up seeing it. The movie has an iconography all its own: a huge diamond, an old lady dropping said diamond over the end of a ship while making a little "whoopsidaisy" noise (collective gasps and groans), a dirty drawing of Kate Winslet, intimate vehicular relations that made it impossible to look at a hand print on a fogged up window the same way ever again, that SONG, and those lines ("I'm the king of the world", "Never let go," "Come back![uttered through frozen vocal cords]"). This is the stuff of opera, if occasionally the sudsy variety.

It actually speaks to Cameron's insecurity that he feels the necessity of adding these "set piece" moments when the ship itself is the big set piece and these moments are just elaborate dressing (perhaps he wasn't sure who Freud was either). But for the most part, a lot of these moments work. Yes, you cringe when Jack and Rose are basically responsible for the crashing of the Titanic (crew ogling from the poop deck don't see the 'berg in time....mmmmk). And a cheap hindsight shot at Cal for not appreciating Picasso before his time? Respect your characters!

But if anything, the strengths and flaws of the film parallel that of the ship. Gigantic and opulent, but without a rudder flexible enough to allow some subtle maneuvers. The movie and the ship plow straight at you, and if you leave your cynicism in Southampton you can't help but be affected and awed by the spectacle and tragedy. And you best believe you will be sitting through those credits waiting for an absolution that never came...no, who are you kidding? You're waiting for Celine Dion's epic key change. Only replicants and fembots are immune to the powers of the Dion/recorder modulation.

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