Cinema Craptastíque: Titanic

On April 14th, 1912, widowed preacher John Harper kissed his six-year-old daughter Nana on the forehead before lowering her down into a lifeboat. “I’ll see you again someday,” he called to her, as he disappeared into the chaos on board the RMS Titanic. He died that night while helping other children and women escape the sinking ship. 

But market research clearly shows that widowed preachers don’t “sizzle” with the 18-25 demographic, so Mr. Harper’s true-life tale was scrapped for the movie version. Instead of father and daughter John and Nana, we got lovers Jack and Rose, and we were instructed from every corner of the media that we cared deeply about these two extremely fictional people. We were invited to open our hearts and wallets, but mostly our wallets, to Titanic the MOVIE.

There’s a curious and annoying notion in the age of digital filmmaking that huge, expensive movies with raging special effects and even the slightest grounding in historical fact are somehow definitive, as if history itself were made obsolete by its translation to entertainment. 

I realize I’m navigating a mine field here, suggesting that the biggest box office success in history is full-on Cinema Craptastíque. That’s why I’ve waited nearly a decade to record my thoughts in this manner. But given the crowd we have here at the site, I have a hunch I’m not going too far out on a limb. 

James Cameron funded, wrote, and directed Titanic on the wave of success created by his earlier films, like Piranha Part Two: The Spawning. and True Lies. Clearly this was the man to define the Titanic tragedy on film. Surely the voices of those who perished “that fateful night” would now be given new amplification. Or would they? 

Showing off the same storytelling prowess that made him the Executive Producer of Point Break, Cameron invited every prominent Titanic historian to a meeting and then had them killed (or imprisoned; records are sketchy). In fact, so determined was he not to be influenced by the facts surrounding Titanic disaster, he was known to cover his ears and chant “La la la, can’t hear you!” during Titanic-related programs on The History Channel (why he didn’t simply change the station is unknown). 

And really, this is my biggest beef with Titanic. I can forgive the awkward screenplay, with its forced period references and clichéd class conflicts. I can forgive the presence of Leonardo DiCaprio. I’ll overlook the “king of the world!” moment. Heck, I’ll even forgive the Celine Dion song. While these would typically be enough to instantly disqualify any other movie in which they all appeared, their cumulative effect in Titanic isn’t nearly as damaging as the simple fact that we’re told an uninteresting, fake story that uses a fascinating and very real story as a mere backdrop. 

Of course, you remind me, historical fiction is a rich and valid genre! There are wars and eras that have provided fertile foundation for drama these many centuries. Absolutely. But why tell the story of one ship that sank on one particular night, and then simply invent your main characters out of thin air? Might we also, then, enjoy a re-telling of the Hindenberg explosion from the perspective of a family of animated mice? 

This was a vanity project through and through, made by a stubborn and talented auteur who doesn’t know how to share creative ownership. Cameron sacrifices real emotion and tragedy for his own fluffy version of the story because he needs to be in control. Telling the true stories of the Titanic would have required a personal investment and a give-and-take, and would have put elements of the movie out of his hands. So instead of John Harper kissing little Nana goodbye for the last time, we have the cartoonish villain (Billy Zane) chasing the dashing hero through the cabins with a gun. 

Much is made of the effects in Titanic, and they are spectacular. The sinking of the ship is the one area of the story that is rendered with historical accuracy. But isn’t technical accuracy of limited worth when humanity is absent (or at the most disingenuous)? A more gifted director could have driven home the reality of the Titanic experience without even showing the event. 

To me, Titanic is more than just a big, dumb, loud, incredibly popular movie. It’s a beacon, marking the moment in our culture’s history when we searched our collective hearts for a fitting memorial for our fallen brothers and sisters of the RMS Titanic, and all we could come up with were a stupid adventure movie and an insipid pop song. 

Wow. Did I really say I’d forgive that song? You should probably disregard that part.