TITANIC

What Cameron tapped into was the romanticism of the image of the Titanic. The historical narrative captures everything from human folly, the wonders and failure of technology and the final throes of an outdated social hierarchy, all set against the epic canvas of the largest man-made object on earth coming apart at the seams in the middle of an ocean in the dead of night. Everything was there, but while some films had aimed for historical accuracy, they always felt like documentaries. Other had left the historical detail behind and focused entirely on invented characters and scenarios, but that just made the whole thing feel like a soap opera. Cameron’s success comes from combining the two, setting the doomed romance of Rose (Kate Winslet) and Jack (Leonardo DiCaprio) amidst real historical figures and stories. Rose and Jack were vital to the emotional success of ‘Titanic’ because they offer us someone to connect and invest in. Cameron can control their story as well as put them at the right place and time for us to witness the countless other true stories that come with the event. Rose in particular becomes our way in, the eyes through which we see the tragedy - and without that connection, the film simply wouldn’t work. The screenplay might stumble on clichés, but Cameron’s story is pretty damn strong, and it’s far from the worst thing he’s ever written.

What ‘Titanic’ is, more than anything, is an experience, one that took all the tools at its disposal at the time and pushed them further than ever before. It is as significant to the evolution of cinema as ‘Star Wars’, ‘Jurassic Park’ and ‘The Matrix’, with a visual and aural scope that has somehow never dated. Visual effects are used as an intrinsic part of the storytelling and world-building, as remarkable as the impeccable production and costume design. James Horner, already an established composer, crafted one of the most iconic and beautiful scores ever written, one that straddles our world and that of 1912, as if we were looking through a window to the past. I’ve never thought of ‘Titanic’ as a period piece, because it feels so immediate and dynamic. Cameron might not be a great writer, but he’s an astounding director, and his work in ‘Titanic’ is still an absolute fucking marvel. His careful, energetic approach to the first two acts earns the third, and you never feel the length at any point.

‘Titanic’ is a driven, dynamic film of impeccable artistry and extraordinary beauty, but its triumph comes in that final act. The sinking sequence is flat-out incredible, harrowing and nail-biting, thrilling and devastating, and so enormous in visual and emotional scale that it’s still almost impossible to comprehend. That last hour is a masterpiece of editing, cinematography, direction, design and performance, a perfect storm of epic cinematic storytelling and existential nightmare. Again, without Rose as our guide, we would feel detached instead of invested, with many of the images (water crashing into the bridge, plates sliding from their shelves, the destruction of the grand staircase, the Strauss’ clutching one another as water swirls around them) now forever burnt into our memories. And as the Titanic makes its final death throes, the stern crashing down (as Cameron describes in his screenplay) like the "heel of God", the enormity of the event hits you - an endless sea of bodies, screaming for help, the sound of metal tearing apart, the look of horror in Molly Brown’s (Kathy Bates) eyes.

On the 100th anniversary of the sinking, I went to see ‘Titanic’ at IMAX in 3D. As the sinking reached its climax, you could feel a shiver through the cinema. All at once, everyone watching the film realised that, likely 100 years exactly, this very event had happened somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. It was a humbling, moving moment, and a testament to the level of detail and respect ‘Titanic’ has for its subject matter. Even if you want to dismiss the love story, the screenplay or the schmaltz, the sinking in the film is undeniably one of the great moments in cinema, and still one of the most devastating.

‘Titanic’ is still, and will always be, one of my favourite films. It was like a dream come true, a chance to see a moment in history that I’d only read about in books or seen inadequately on film. I felt like I’d been through it with Rose and Jack and the others, and no film had ever affected me that deeply before. Looking back, it still means the world to me, but for a different reason. After seeing the film, my 11-year-old obsession moved from the event to the film itself, now reading everything and watching everything I could about how they had made it. I discovered what a cinematographer was, what an editor was, what a production designer was. Their names meant as much to me as Winslet and DiCaprio’s. Horner’s score was the first I ever owned, and I played that CD till it wore out. Most importantly, I discovered what a director was, laying the seeds for the career I would later choose for myself. Thanks to ‘Titanic’, I was introduced to the magic of how film was made, and without it I never would have gone on to discover heroes like Kubrick, Hitchcock, Spielberg or Fincher. That film made me fall in love with cinema, and consequently changed my life for the better, and for that I’ll always be grateful to it.

So, I don’t care that it isn’t popular to love this film anymore. I don’t care that pop culture has picked over its bones until there’s nothing left. And I truly do not give a shit about whether or not Jack could have fit on that damn door. When I look at James Cameron’s ‘Titanic’, I still find that same sense of awe and wonder I found as a kid, awe at a remarkable filmmaking achievement built around an epic historical event that has never stopped haunting us. Whenever I look at this extraordinary film, I still think the same thing - ‘Titanic’ is a goddamn friggin’ masterpiece.