James Cameron's Titanic has now reached that rare sort of pop-culture
frisson where it becomes its own self-sustaining publicity machine. No one
needs to sell a potential moviegoer on Titanic now--if you want to
understand what everyone at the office is talking about, what all the
late-night comedy shows are referencing, or what music plays over the
opening of every sports broadcast, then you'll just have to queue up and
spend three-and-a-half hours watching the great ship go down. Right now,
studio lackeys are staying up nights wondering how to replicate this
phenomenon. The truth is, though, that such a phenomenon is rarely
calculated; rather, it's a convergence of elements that happens to capture
the popular imagination.
In the case of Titanic, the popular subject matter, as well as
the buzz generated by the film's jaw-dropping $200 million-plus price tag,
piqued the public curiosity before the movie even opened. Once they were
seated, audiences were treated to remarkable effects coupled with an
old-fashioned, romantic story. The romance in particular is bringing women
back again and again. The success of the far more cerebral The English
Patient should've been a tip-off that audiences were hungry for
sweeping romance; heck, even William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet
did respectable box office last year.
The other thing that Titanic and Romeo + Juliet have in
common is Leonardo DiCaprio, who is fast reaching the status that Brad Pitt
and Tom Cruise have occupied: the heartthrob who can do no wrong. I
realized this last year, when there was a full house of teenage girls at a
screening of the sober drama Marvin's Room, solely because the
attractive, sly DiCaprio had a small role in the picture. Right now, the
kid's gold. He's also a fine young actor.
The main reason Titanic keeps steaming ahead, though, is because
it's a good movie. Cameron's attention to detail in the smaller, human
moments makes the eye-popping visual effects work, and the performances of
DiCaprio and Kate Winslet are affecting even when the pair is just running
though water. The movie's not perfect, certainly. The romance is cornball,
the dialogue is silly, and even the thrillingly staged sinking seems to
take longer than it should to play out. Nor is Titanic good enough
to deserve all the Oscars it's bound to win in a couple of months, though
there have been worse juggernauts. Still, the only thing standing in the
way of Titanic winning Best Picture is lingering resentment over
Cameron's slave-driver methods and the film's frighteningly large
budget.
The money means little, though, once people see how impressively it has
been deployed. When Waterworld came out two years ago, accompanied
by stories of cost overruns and on-set struggles, the film's producers
tried to defray the negative press with a time-honored defense: consumer
advocacy. "Ticket prices will be the same for our movie and for one that
cost $10 million," the studio said. "People should be applauding us for
putting up big stakes and giving the public more for their money." What
they failed to understand was that people weren't upset that the filmmakers
had spent $160 million. People were upset that they spent it on
Waterworld.
That said, there are some concerns about the success of Titanic,
given its staggering cost. What effect will it have on the Propaganda Films
gang--the Michael Bayses and Simon Wests of the world, who are already used
to blowing $100 million on star-driven, concept-heavy thrill rides like
The Rock and Con Air? Do they now expend their energy trying
to convince the studios that their $200 million dream project has the
potential to be another Titanic?
Or do they take a different lesson from their spiritual forefather,
James Cameron, and learn that movies need more than just delirious action
to be truly successful? A decade from now, people will still be watching
and talking about Titanic, while Con Air will be just another
Saturday-afternoon Movie for Guys Who Like Movies. What's inspiring about
Titanic is that it has a heart as big as its budget.