In truth, I haven’t watched it since it was out in the theaters. Watching the movie 13 years later was an interesting experience. Time and perspective have a way of changing your ability to empathize with characters.
When I was 12, I thought Rose was the most courageous and terrific person. I thought she had every right to try to escape her nefarious fiance (who seemed really mean to me) and that her choosing to stay on the ship with Jack was wonderfully brave.
Now, I can’t help but view her decisions from the perspective of someone slightly older than her. When she left her fiance for Jack, I couldn’t help but want to caution her that that might not be the smartest decision ever. She had no way of knowing that this carefree drifter wouldn’t just dump her after their one-night stand!
How’d she know he wouldn’t just say to her while they were getting dressed, “Yeah, I’ll call you,” and then she’d have ruined an engagement and possibly contracted VD! There’s nothing romantic about VD.
Also, I would love to know how she would’ve done with being a poor girl. Living in the upper crust of society may seem like a chore, but I wonder whether she would’ve found working 20 hour days as a laundress more fulfilling? Also, would she have stayed so entranced with Jack’s carefree drifter lifestyle if she was constantly working to support them while he smoked and drew people in parks?
These considerations nonetheless, I still thoroughly enjoyed the movie. Time has not diminished the skillful telling of that tale, and I continue to be impressed by the attention to detail and devotion to the subject matter.
I did have a giggly moment at the end of the movie though. You know how at the end, Rose is all old and she dies in her bed and then returns to the Titanic in the afterlife? Everyone she knew is there and applauding her, and then she comes up the staircase to meet Jack and they kiss and it’s all so very romantic.
Well, I was wondering what that would translate to in the narrative of my life and realized that in all likelihood I’d probably meet Wes at the Red Robin where we met. I’d walk in the big brass and glass doors, and everyone would be clapping. Wes would be standing at the host stand with his back to me, and then he’d turn around and kiss me and the Red Robin bird would flap his wings and we’d all go have clucks and fries or something.
Actually, that sounds pretty awesome.