The question I may use to decide how well you know me is, "Who's my favorite actor?" If you don't know, you can't have known me very well. I am a crazy theatre geek, and my friends can attest to that fact. But, sorry, my favorite actor will forever and always be Leonardo Wilhelm DiCaprio. (By the way, did you know that an agent wanted to change his name to Lenny Williams because they thought his real name was too hard to pronounce? Yeah. SO glad they didn't.) And, of course, I love The Aviator and Inception and anything Leo, but my favorite movie will always and forever be Titanic.
Ah, deep romantic sigh.
NOW. I have guy friends, and I love them to death. But, they can't really understand my obsession with this movie. "Umm, Titanic sails, boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, boy dies. WUT NOW?" (this is why I then try to unsuccessfully talk them out of their point of view. So far, it hasn't worked. No surprise there.) Now, I hope I'm fair about the fact that, yes, in essence, that is what the storyline is. But they're missing the point completely! Titanic, to me, is so much more than that.
First and foremost, let me say right here and now-it's a chick flick, boys. I'm not expecting you to become a crazy fan. That would, in fact, be a little creepy. More than a little creepy. When I rag on you for treating it badly-keep in mind, I'm a mean person. It's in my nature, or something. That is our little game-you hate it, I try to convince you to not, it doesn't work, I'm okay with that. Moving on.
Second of all, I'm in love. And I know most girls say that at this age, and then end up with another guy two weeks later. But my friends know that when it comes to me-yes, I'm dramatic. But I'm also legit, absotively posolutely in love. And that's taken a huge, huge bear
ring on the way I watch Titanic. First is the Big Question-were Jack and Rose really in love? First of all, for proper chick-flick-romance-and-obsessed-with-this-movie-cause-Leo-is-yummy purposes, I am obligated for a yes. Seccond of all, that really depends on the way you describe love. Did they
have enough attatchment to die for each other? Yes. Did they have enough attatchment to put the other first? Yes. Did they prove their attatchment over time? Well, therein lies the past 14 years of people's skeptical mindset. What would have happened if they had both survived? We actually
can't tell. There are some who say, "Oh, their love was strong. They made it" and there are some who say "No way on earth! It was superficial and they fell apart." The truth, people? We really can't prove anything. Sorry. Feelings change a lot for some people, and not at all for other people. For me, I'm inclined to think they made it, simply because of the affection and relationship they showed, and also because that's the way the story should go, in my point of view. So there, nyeahhh.
SO. Now that we have that cleared up-where were we? Oh yeah, I'm in love. *lovestruck grin* And looking at it, the question runs through my mind-"Would I jump off that boat for ----?" (For blog post purposes, and the privacy he so dearly adores, we'll call him The Man....) The truth-sorry melodramatic attitudes-is that I'll probably never know. I would hope that I would love The Man enough to go down to E deck and cut off his handcuffs, or jump off the rescue ship because I couldn't leave him. But I don't really know, as I haven't been faced with the circumstances. THIS, dear ones, is what we would call a "what if" situation. The Man is not fond of these, at all. "Why ask me if I would when it hasn't happened?" Oh, the realistic meets the dramatic. What a beautiful waltz! Meanwhile, I'm cultivating the love to do that. One thing I wonder, however-no, scratch that, two things. Number one-Is jumping off that boat love, or craziness? You decide that. The other thing that strikes me on occasion is, if Rose just stayed put in that boat, the chances would be a lot greater that she and Jack would have made it out of the wreck alive. But, of course, Jack has to die, the story wouldn't be right if he lived. (More on that later.)
I'm a history buff. I'm planning to minor in it in college, that's how big of a history buff I am. And I don't know if I'm the only one who thinks this, but the story just wouldn't be right-it wouldn't hold that charisma of a whole different time, if it was in the present. (Erm duh.) Of course, the story is actually set in the present-everything on the Titanic is a flashback. Woo! I'm infatuated with the charisma that history holds, the different culture and propriety and people. Also, older people, to me, hold an entire history book of their lives inside. World War 1, World War 2, bobby socks and poodle skirts, heels around the house, disco fever, phonebooth stuffing, Eve Arden, Walter Pigeon, Lucille Ball, Dick van Dyke, goldfish gulping, go-go girls, The Beatles, Pet Rocks, The Cold War, and the time when women were woman, children were children, and men were all good-looking. (Woot woot!) It's fascinating to me, history is. And that may be part of the reason I love Titanic so much, is because it's so historical, mixed in with the romance and tragedy.
I confess. I love Mr. Andrews. So much. All the more so since Victor Garber was also a stage actor. (Anthony in Sweeney Todd, anyone?) And I would like to explain to people-and maybe I'm not the only one who feels this way-is that, guess what? Jack dies. And it's sad. Horrible. Tear-fest, even. But it's supposed to happen. Rose has to lead a life without him. Part of the story is that she had a wonderful life, because he made her promise to never let go. He kept her going, her whole life. But for that to happen, Jack is supposed to die. But Mr. Andrews?! I mean, part of this film is historical. But that doesn't keep me from being sad when Mr. Andrews stops the clock in the lounge and waits for the ship to sink, doing nothing. Whole 'nother tear-fest right there.
I greatly bemoan the fact that I cannot cry when I watch Titanic. I know, I'm awful, right? Oh, yes, a depression overtakes me. And I WANT to cry. But I can't. *hangs head* I'm not a person who cries at movies. Depression? Chyeah. But I can't cry. Awful.
I hesitate to end this post, as I know I'll probably end up writing another Titanic-related post. Maybe not soon, but most likely, I'll be jotting down my reflections on this masterpiece. In the meantime-HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEO! Next month <3 and hip, hip, huzzah, James Cameron. You make me smile.
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