It’s Unfair to Zero In on ‘Titanic’s’ Isolated Clunkers

As a member of the Writers Guild of America, while I am not quite prepared, yet, to nominate James Cameron’s “Titanic” script for best original screenplay, I must say for someone who has written his first screen romance epic, Cameron has acquitted himself most admirably. (“ ‘Titanic’ Sinks Again [Spectacularly],” Calendar, Dec. 19).

In terms of the dialogue, I feel it is unfair for critic Kenneth Turan to pick out isolated clunkers such as “You could just call me a tumbleweed blowing in the wind,” quote them in print and mislead the reader into thinking this unimaginative cliche is representative of the quality of the rest of the dialogue in the film. In one scene, wishing to protect his soul mate from a lifetime of bitterness and disillusionment, Jack pleads with Rose to break free of the shackles of upper-class society and its prearranged marriages by saying, “ . . . Sooner or later the fire I love about you is going to be burned out.”

Turan took umbrage at this line as well and if that can be classified as the worst piece of writing that Cameron is stumbling with, then he is doing just fine by me. Even more amazing was the exception he took to the performances of Kathy Bates and Leonardo DiCaprio. Turan refers to Cameron’s Molly Brown character as “relentlessly folksy.”

Exactly how does one represent a former rough-and-tumble tomboy from the hills of Colorado, former saloon hall dancer, probable prostitute at one time and certifiable illiterate until her mid-20s, newly educated, nouveau riche lady who charmed the world with her ribald, shoot-from-the-hip humor? Bates played her with just the right amount of spit and vinegar, taking her performance right to the edge, but never over the top, which is ever admirable and gutsy for an actor to do.

If Turan has any solid, concrete suggestions on how Cameron’s interpretation of Molly Brown, and/or Bates’ performance could be improved, I’m dying to hear them. I, as a working actor-writer of 20 years, cannot think of one.

Turan then goes on to take exception to the fact that when Rose considers suicide, out of the presence of 2,200 other passengers, Jack happens to be around to save the day. One wonders, exactly, where is Turan’s sense of romance. For that matter, why in “Casablanca,” out of all the gin joints and all the saloons in all the towns in all the world, did Ilsa have to walk into Rick’s? Logic. Ilsa Lund and Victor Lazlow need the letters of transit for Lisbon.

Jack, in “Titanic,” is a passionate, sensitive romantic who spends a great deal of time marveling at the majesty of the sea and the magic of the stars at night. Who else would be on deck at that hour of night drinking in the beauty of the clear starry evening? Then, his parenthesized swipe at DiCaprio by stating “his brash brat routine is wearing thin” really threw me for a loop. From beginning to end, DiCaprio played his character as a sensitive, incisive, somewhat dashing and very convincing, traveling bohemian artist, with sincerity and a genuine sense of bravery. Even when ensnared at the snake pit of a first-class steamship dinner table, with old money pit vipers hurling thinly veiled attacks at his character’s humble means and upbringing, DiCaprio retorted with humor, dignity and patience--never in that scene did the actor play a single one of his lines with an ounce of petulance. Where was the “brash brattiness”?

Perhaps Turan was having uncontrollable flashbacks to “Marvin’s Room” and “The Basketball Diaries,” where DiCaprio’s troubled adolescent interpretation of those characters was appropriate. While all of us are entitled to our contrasting opinions, especially in subjective arenas as art and cinema, one thing is for certain--”Titanic” will be the event movie of the year, if not the decade.