I have vivid memories of watching Titanic [1953] by Charles Bracket, Walter Reisch and Richard L. Breen on television when I was a kid. I suppose I was 10—don’t remember exactly—but I do remember being mesmerized by the scenes of the water. I’d never thought much about water as a sort of weapon, of water as such a powerful force. And I couldn’t imagine being in the cold water in the middle of the ocean trying to survive until I was rescued.
So for me, seeing these people stranded in the ocean was heartbreaking—I so empathized with them and shivered at the thought of dying like that. Dying in the freezing waters of the Atlantic, you’d shiver watching that part of the film.
And, of course, what made it even more powerful was that it had really happened. The Titanic really had been hit by an iceberg and one could almost feel what it must have been like to die in those freezing waters—as over 1,500 people did.
So when the “new” Titanic came out in 1997, written by James Cameron, I was curious to see what had changed.
Now, if you ask most people who’ve seen both films, which they liked best, the overwhelming majority would no doubt pick the newer 1997 version. But for me, well, there was just something about that older version from 1953 that had me riveted more than the contemporary one.
Take a look at the trailers for the film.
First, the ’53 version
Second, the ’97 version:
I love that the ’97 version calls itself in the trailer “the world’s most beloved and acclaimed film” because I don’t know how you actually determine that!
But yes, millions of people went to see the ’97 version and it won 11 Oscars. It tied with Ben-Hur [1959] and Lord of the Rings: Return of the King [2003] for winning the most Oscars in history.
It’s interesting to look at what those three films have in common—and the most obvious thing is that they were all spectacles—very big epics depicting amazing daring-do if you will.
So what does that mean for the writer? Want a successful film, write an epic? Well, probably not. It takes a LOT of money to make an epic film and unless you are a big—very big--director, actor or writer pushing that film to be made you probably won’t have a chance.
Studios only invest huge budgets in films that come to them from known sources and they’re sure are going to make them money. Of course, they’re not always right… a bit like playing the horses, isn’t it?
But hey, you never know. Your epic could be so compelling that it makes your name as a screenwriter. And, as always, writing what you really want to write—what you’re absolutely driven to write—will produce your best work.
Next week, a film from 1999—Entrapment.
Copyright © Diane Lake
12May24