Sink or Swim

I possess a rather unfashionable opinion. An opinion which eleven years ago was once so widely held for a few months that everyone in the interest of not following the crowd unanimously decreed that hence forth (effective around February 18th, 1998) it would be utterly and unforgivably démodé. The opinion is this: “Titanic” is a great film, and I don’t mean this statement to be tempered with any face saving “fors”, “in so far ases”, or “ifs”. “Titanic” certainly has its flaws, and if one element had been out of place it would not be great, as the evidence of the deleted scenes show us (for those who don’t possess the 3 disc ultimate edition the deleted scenes are almost uniformly terrible, and the alternate ending is one of the worst that I have ever seen), but beneath that is a movie that against almost insurmountable odds succeeds.

First of all full disclosure: I saw Titanic in theatres when I was twelve at least five times that I can count, though I’m probably forgetting a sixth, which was pretty much par for the course for a twelve year old girl back in 1997. And I scoured the internet for every picture from the film I could find to create a scrapbook version of the movie in chronological order, complete with quotes (it really is a little like watching the film, but takes less time), which was perhaps a bit obsessive even for a twelve year old girl in 1997. Now that I have guaranteed that none of my friends will ever talk to me again I shall endeavor to claw my way back into your good graces by explaining why.

Well first and foremost I will give you one reason that did not enter into the equation back when I was twelve, Leonardo DiCaprio. Nothing annoyed me more back then than when some condescending fifty-something leaned over and with a wink said “I know why you like Titanic.” Was it so unbelievable to them that I could come to a decision not based on effervescent intoxication of preteen hormones? I actually had to argue my case so frequently that a positive dislike of Leonardo DiCaprio formed that wasn’t dispelled until 2003 and “Catch Me if You Can”. It was the world the movie immersed me in that I loved. The history fascinated me; a PBS documentary on the Titanic that came out in ’95 moved me to tears. The Gilded Age fascinated me. The costumes fascinated me. Sure, I enjoyed the story of Jack and Rose, but it never made me cry, what made me cry were the incidental details on the periphery. The true stories that Jack and Rose ran through in their roller coaster ride for survival – Ida and Isidor Straus lying side by side in their first class berth as water floods beneath them, the middle class father bidding farewell to his wife and two daughters (one of whom is an avatar for real life survivor Eva Hart who recalled her father’s last words to her as “Hold mummy’s hand and be a good little girl”), Captain Smith’s empty-eyed return to the wheel house when he realizes that there was nothing more he could do, Victor Garber’s gentle pathos as the ship’s designer, Thomas Andrews. It is the band’s final dirge for the sinking boat, so wonderfully mournful, that strikes the exact right note. Far more moving to me than Rose’s tearful promise to Jack is Father Byles’ recitation of Revelations 21 at the stern of the ship while performing his last mass. These are all real events and real people. That James Cameron was able to include these stories without exploitation or disrespect is the film’s greatest accomplishment. It heightens our understanding of the real tragedy while also deepening our emotions for the fictitious one. It is this combination of reality and fantasy that the genre of the historical epic is based on, and it fails nine times out of ten. Back in 1997 it seemed inevitable that "Titanic" would fail.

In the years after its release on December 19th 1997 “Titanic” has become known for its incredible success, becoming the box office record holder (though it must be said that it would fall from its lofty position if inflation were taken into account) and winning eleven academy awards, tied for first with “Ben-Hur”, and “The Return of the King”. What is forgotten is the fact that “Titanic” was supposed to be “Waterworld” in terms of failure. It was predicted to be mentioned in the same breath as “Heaven’s Gate” and “Cutthroat Island”. It’s budget ballooned from $110 million to $200 million, then the most expensive movie ever made (again not counting inflation), its release date was notoriously shoved back from July 4th weekend to December, never a good sign for a film, and it was over three hours long limiting the number of times that each movie theatre could show it, plus it had no big stars to bring people in. Bill Mechanic, the chairman of Fox which along with Paramount financed the move, when asked by the New York Times about what he had learned from the experience of making “Titanic” replied, “It's a growth experience. Hopefully you won't make the same mistakes again” (NYT Dec 22, 1997). “Titanic” a mistake? It seems unthinkable now, but back in 1997 no one thought that it would make a profit. It was supposed to sink like its subject and namesake. It was a cautionary tale of Hollywood hubris and excess. It was supposed to bring Fox and Paramount down with it, and even after it had been in the number one box office position for three weeks in a row Larry Gerbrandt, a top media research consultant described “Titanic” as being “symptomatic of a fundamental problem in Hollywood. This is the fact that there's an important difference between not losing money and getting a decent return on your investment. The idea is to make a lot of money. When all you do is break even on your biggest film, you do nothing for your bottom line” (NYT Jan 5, 1998). With our hindsight it seems impossible to link “Titanic” with noble failure.

Perhaps it was too popular. Perhaps it won too many awards, but you cannot deny that it deserved the technical Oscars it received. It has the best production values I have ever seen on screen, and possibly the most effective and judicious use of special effects in the past two decades. If you can tell me which scenes were real, which scenes were done with miniatures and green screens, and which were entirely digital I’ll give you a lollipop. But the reason that it is a great movie goes beyond sets and special effects, costumes and cinematography. I am very skeptical about films that are over two hours long (if it is a romantic comedy then ninety minutes is my limit). A film has to earn its running time, and in the countless times I’ve seen it “Titanic” has never bored me. At three and a quarter hours it doesn’t flag. Sure my aunt fell asleep while watching it, and I am willing to accept that there are people out there who never liked it, but whether you like it or not people will still be watching “Titanic” fifty years from now, and any film that is able to connect with that many people over such a long period of time deserves to be given the title great.