Grandiose schmaltz skillfully presented

Rating: 8/10 (28 January 2000)

This is much better than word of mouth led me to believe. Of course the script is corny and full of simplistic sentiment and it panders shamelessly to mid-brow sensitivities, and there's no question that the main intent is to jerk mass tears (but we could have guessed that from the subject). Still the photography is wonderful, Kate Winslet is captivating, and the plot clever. This is an old time Hollywood movie made not only to seduce the audience, but the Academy as well. And it succeeds.
Billy Zane is perfectly one-dimensional and completely familiar as the conceited and selfish, immoral heir to a Gilded Age fortune. Kate Winslet as his intended is a ravishing beauty with oomph and a mind of her own. Leonardo DiCaprio as the wily and clever sketch artist who seduces her while twice saving her life comes across curiously as part Huck Finn and part John Boy. His romantic bravado in the freezing water saying he was so lucky to have won the steamship ticket because it allowed him to meet her was enough to embarrass even the most hardened Harlequin novelist.
Most of the action before the bow scene was almost painful because just about every line was written so that a ten-year-old could understand what he was supposed to feel about whom. Evil, decadent rich people. Good, clever, hard working poor people. (They even party better.) Cliché followed cliché.
But the romantic bow scene was artfully staged, and after that Kate came to life. It was strange to see her in the early scenes. She seemed almost a bad actress, as though the mediocrity of the direction had reduced her. But her part was so big and she had so much to do that her natural talent overcame the early junior high school text and the later schmaltz.
Since the audience knows the ending, Director James Cameron knew he had a fine opportunity for dramatic irony, but his touch was a bit heavy handed, e.g., as they're boarding, a guy says, "We're the luckiest sons of bitches in the world." And since the audience knows eighty-five years of history unknown to the Titanic passengers, we get these further heavy bits of irony: On Picasso: "He won't amount to a thing. Trust me." And "Freud, who is he?
Is he a passenger?"
My sensitivities were most offended, however, when Cameron has the savage crew smugly celebrate their good fortune before the safe they have hauled up is actually opened. That was the tip off for everybody in the audience to wisely know there would be little of value in the safe. Duh. In real life those guys don't celebrate until the gold is in the hand. Cameron's style is to flatter the audience, make them think they're smart, the usual pandering of a mediocre talent. Cameron even tries his hand at some cheap symbolism, i.e., mommie tells Rose that she must marry this suffocating and insufferable man because they need the money as she vigorously tightens Rose's confining corset.
All right. Why did the Academy vote this best picture? Simply because it was a popular lavish production squarely in the Hollywood tradition, employing a whole bunch of movie folk, and it was a financial success, just what the industry craves. I should add that everything technical in the film was excellent, and Cameron's dramatic direction was a lot better than his dialogue. Also, because of the exquisite detail, watching the big ship sink was a whole lot of fun.
(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)