“Amelie still seeks solitude. She amuses herself with silly questions about the world below, such as “How many people are having an orgasm right now?”
This was my introduction to french movies. And it was smart, funny, memorable. It was lighthearted, witty, charming, absurd, ridiculous. It was each and every one of those.
Amelie Poulaine is a heroine apart from the rest. She takes pictures of bunny clouds and when she finds old letters on the floor of her apartment, she meddles, schemes and helps. When she sees the old man who wrote those letters happy by what she had secretly done, she promises herself to make everyone happy. And so Amelie becomes a secret matchmaker, a guardian angel, and an adorable meddler to the people in her life. Nobody knows this, save for that painter she has befriended. She delights in her meddlesome ways, she likes how she helps people.
She delights in this so much that when she sees a man who takes discarded photographs from a photo booth, she is intrigued. The second time she sees him she left behind a photo album. We know she’s smitten when she takes it. Amelie realizes this too, but she doesn’t quite know what to do about it. And we see how much she doesn’t know what to do with it during the rest of the movie.
Amelie is quirky, and we are offered an equally quirky love story. And it is quite unforgettable. Do you know the song ‘I Knew I Loved You Before I Met You’ by Savage Garden? I think this song fits the movie quite quite well.
“Like a great iron Sphinx on the ocean floor, the Titanic faces still toward the West, interrupted forever on her only voyage.” – Roger Ebert
When I was a kid, I had watched Titanic on more times than I care to count or to even admit. It is not the best movie I ever saw, nor is it my favorite. Still, I liked it enough to watch it again and again. Maybe it was Leonardo di Caprio with his dirty blonde locks falling to piercing green eyes as he sketches. Maybe it was Kate Winslet with her vibrant eyes and auburn curly hair. Maybe it was that iconic scene where he draws her, naked, save for that beautiful diamond. Maybe it was their tryst in that car. Maybe it was them both. Maybe it was everything. Maybe it was their love story, suspended by an iceberg in the freezing Atlantic sea, and continued by death. Jack and Rose met and fell in love in the Titanic, they got separated in the Titanic, and they got together again in the Titanic. It was an epic romance.
But there was always something that makes me frown whenever I watch the movie. It would be years later when I find out what it is: it was the script.
I had a huge problem with the script. I did not enjoy the whole “Jack!” “Kate!” “Jack!” “Kate!” line exchange. I have a pathological dislike for scripts requiring calling out lover’s names more than once followed by being reunited in each other’s arms. I found it cheap, and I still find it cheap now. I suspect that it was because of that horrendous script that a lot of my peers commented that Leonardo di Caprio can’t act. (I also entertain the idea that said comment was borne out of the fact that Leonardo di Caprio is a household name, forever attached with the word beautiful, and said peers are mostly boys.) Now we all know that cannot be true. He just didn’t shine in the movie. I blame the script.
But, apart from the script, Titanic transgressed the bounds of technical achievement. (James Cameron has such ambition.) It was a visual excellence at its most heightened. It was camera techniques and editing at their most superb.
Despite the many criticisms Titanic bears, no one can deny that Titanic is iconic. It made household names out of its two stars. It made a millionaire out of its director. It is among my most memorable epic romances. The movie wasn’t kidding when it made Jack Dawson proclaim “I am king of the world!”