TITANIC (62)

Directed by: James Cameron

Starring: Kate Winslet, Leonardo di Caprio, Billy Zane, Kathy Bates

The Pitch: Ship is dubbed "unsinkable". Yeah, right...

Theo Sez: A return, it's been said, to the "great Hollywood epics" of the 50s and early 60s - which is fine by me, as long as we can also get a return to garish versions of Broadway musicals and leering comedies about gigolos pretending to be oilmen for the sake of all-American virgins. It's like an enormous machine, taking ages to stir into action and then ages to wind down, ending in a whole pile-up of codas (even when it's found the perfect final shot - the necklace drifting down into the inky depths - it keeps going) : like those old epics it seems to be in love with its own grandeur - the fact that it takes over an hour of screen time for the ship to sink is as significant as anything we actually see during the sinking. Certainly it's wildly impressive, if only on a logistical level, and it's also heartening to see a blockbuster so solidly middlebrow, pleasing the masses without outraging the intelligentsia (it makes a nonsense of my fragmentation theory, but maybe it's just the exception that proves the rule) ; in terms of emotional weight, however, it's pretty much a non-starter, above all because there never seems to be enough going on. The 1958 A NIGHT TO REMEMBER (still the best telling of this particular tale) was impressionistic, featuring over 200 speaking parts, flitting from passenger to passenger and building up a mosaic of lives about to be destroyed - the ship seemed vast, teeming with humanity. Here, beyond the fairly generic (not to say sappy) central romance, there's little to engage the mind or senses till the iceberg makes its cameo appearance - supporting characters barely exist, dialogue is functional, relationships sketchy : the ship seems small and underpopulated, an impression reinforced by the sweeping, stem-to-stern CGI shots that seem to reduce it to no more than an oversized yacht ; when, during the climax, people we've never seen before throng the decks, hold on to their loved ones or prepare for death, it means little - we sympathise, but only in an abstract, shake-of-the-head kind of way. Why this handsome, rather plastic movie has been compared to the swirling melodramas of D.W. Griffith is beyond (my) comprehension : it's a classic of sorts, but mostly as a feat of engineering, a massive, complicated structure that somehow manages to stand up. It's the perfect film for people who like to visit all the sights and famous monuments when they're in a strange city ; those who prefer to walk the streets and eavesdrop on people's conversations may be disappointed.