And then she was dreaming, in the twilight of her life

Rating: 10/10 (3 October 2005)

"Titanic", the second greatest movie of all times, is watched by nearly all the humans around the world (recently even by the Afghani people, as there was a premiere in Kabul after the fall of the Taliban), and is strongly loved or hated by enormous amounts of people. If you look at the comments and the vote rating on the IMDb, you will figure out that. Obviously there are a lot of people who think it is some kind of a banal romantic story, and as they are tough guys, they have voted negatively, bringing it from the second place that it deserves, to some regrettably low position, so it is not even in the first 250 TOP MOVIES on the IMDb.
For the fact that it has earned more money than any other movie I will not speak - "Star Wars" and "The Lord of the Rings", and "Harry Potter", and "Spiderman" also earned comparable sums, and they are IDIOTIC. But on the "romantic" issue I have to speak a lot. And here I begin. No, you infinite idiots! It is not a movie about love! Love is a great thing, one of the greatest things humans have (tragically not all of them, not even half of them), but love is 10% of what the movie is about. Love is only a contributing factor here.
This is a movie about the irreversibly lost things in life. It is a movie about memories and old age, and lost happiness. Not only it is about these things, but with all its contributing factors - the plot, the script, the music, the greatest director of all times - it turned into an exceptionally strong movie. So strong, that if your heart is not made of stone, and your brain - of interstellar vacuum, this film will make something horrible with you: it will break your heart, and it will burn your brain. And you will suffer from it. And if you are too emotional, or if you are alone in this moment, I tell you with a good intention: don't watch it!
SPOILERS
You have to watch three hours, till you get to the point. All of it was made for the last minute, and whoever has slept through it, will not get it. Happiness had passed, tragedy had passed and suffering had passed. And then... Oh, dear god, this broke me. Oh, how she threw it! It cut me through my heart, through my brain, through my soul... My whole face started to ache, like if it has been put in a hydraulic press.
A lot of time after I watched it, after many months had passed, after many hours of thinking, I understood what made my face ache. She didn't throw just a valuable diamond, searched by so many people, in the bottomless waters of the cold ocean. She didn't throw just a memory (although it was a kind of a memory, that was reminding her dear moments, lived so many years ago - moments that she had passed so many times through her head). What she threw were hundreds of trillions of dollars, and all the computers in the world, and the combined natural resources of Asia, and 150 million square kilometers of inhabitable land, and the whole Earth, and solar systems, and galaxies, and universes... Cause none of these things could return what she had lost - as time is OMNIPOTENT and IRREVERSIBLE.
But she didn't look suffering, when she threw it. And I know why. She was old. She was at the end of her journey. She longed for oblivion. When she threw it, she smiled, as if she threw a burden. At this moment she was saying "Goodbye" to the life. For her it was a relief. For me it was painfully sad. I saw the whole tragedy of mortality, of transience, of evanescence, of forgetfulness. I saw how the old memories dwell only in the minds of the old people, how they fade and how they disappear with them, like falling yellow leaves in the autumn. I saw her story, I realized that there were billions more stories like that, of billions old people - stories better or worse, shorter or longer, more or less interesting and intriguing - which eventually would fade together with the old, and would turn into rotting leaves on the ground, and people would step on them, and nobody would neither know, nor imagine what treasure they were.
I think now: at least I saw her story. She redeemed the people from "Titanic" to life again and now they are here, in front of me, though for a while. Living, with reddish faces from the wine, straightly brought from the dark, cold ocean bottom - not that it makes me feel better. They laugh, they drink from the glasses and stare at me, and laugh even higher; and then, in an instant, their faces turn pale, turn grey, and their smiles disappear. And they begin looking cold and sad, and serious. And they say to me, with a frozen cup in their hands: "LIVE! Live now, fully! Take everything and remember everything, cause one day you will have only memories! We are dead and cannot live, but you live as much as you can. And please, remember us! We were not bad people, were we?" And all this - from her memory...
And then - she was dreaming. She was RETURNING IMAGES, she was REFRESHING MEMORIES, as this was the only thing she could do to beat the time; to fight with it, before it defeats her too. She was dreaming about the so insultingly short moments of true happiness she had in her life. She was dreaming of what she never had, and never would have. She was dreaming in frightful tranquility, in her last years, in the twilight of her life...
Achingly sad.