The debate concerning best holiday movie is a fierce one in this country. What film best fits the holiday season varies family to family around the United States. For us it was the classics. Griswold and the shitter being full, Ralphie and his repressed rage being released on Scott Farkus, Kevin and Uncle Frank’s cool-jerk. All family favorites. However, the same flick that seemed to be on constantly when we were together throughout the years at Christmas time was James’s Cameron’s immortal piece of shit, Titanic. It is a full-blown comedy to us and should be to everyone who was involved with it by now. My favorite holiday memories were the four of us watching this crap on TNT and somehow finding new and more creative ways to tear it down scene by scene, dumb-ass line by dumb-ass line. Bless Billy Zane and every word his ridiculous character utters throughout this film. I can still hear the laughter whenever I see that silly-ass shit about making your own luck on tv today. The plot is ridiculous, the real story completely tragic, the acting an 11 in the worst possible way. This was 3 hours of funny to my brothers and I every Noël and we invite you to share our perspective of Titanic being completely hysterical…iceberg to finish…. fucking hilarious. So please join us as we sink this boat twice and rip the shit out of this terrible movie as per our family’s annual tradition.
First and foremost, I am a huge fan of Winslet and DiCaprio but c’mon…. there is no way either look back at this as the pinnacle of their artistic careers, clearly both having talent for days. However, we all must do a studio pic to get the passion project and I promise you Leo’s boys give him shit about this movie today and they should. Here are some of our theories why.
This monstrosity begins with opening credits featuring a musical score that sounds like Enya being strangled, then pans to a gay pirate version of Bill Paxton with his stupid fucking gold hoop earring, purposely overkilling his documentary, a.k.a. his usual acting ….R.I.P. by the way. His character seeks a treasure based off an actual cursed gemstone, the Hope diamond which has been linked to tragic deaths of anyone who ever possessed it. Wow. Nice foreshadowing there Cameron….is it hard being that clever? From the very start this cocky, old bag’s ridiculous desperate grab for attention is a masterfully woven set of lies so intricate they would make Kaiser Sosa blush. “have you found the heart of the ocean?” is quite literally a rhetorical question she is asking and quite frankly, taunting since the hag has it stashed in a chifforobe under some blankets. She brings her ten-set piece luggage and her entourage like some queen, then demands to see “her” drawing as she explains how hot she was back in the day. The slob that plays his assistant is dead on. She’s a filthy liar. George Costanza offered the most accurate analysis ever of the film, more so this specific character.
Following the actual reality and scientific explanation of what happened to the ship, the old lady is asked to share her experience of the events. After a few dramatic tears and outbursts that looked not at all fake, she sits her ass down and demands total patience and silence. Her opening words sound like they have been rehearsed for the last 100 years in the fucking mirror. “Titanic is the ship of dreams, and it was, it really was….” What a crock of shit. Enter young Rose and her stupid hat, thankfully accompanied by the first scene in which the greatest-bad character of all time is introduced, family favorite and all time bad-ass, Billy Zane. Even his name is perfect for an ostentatious prick, Cal. This was the peak of his success as an actor other than his portrayal of a gay thespian cowboy in love with Brandon from 90210 in Tombstone. His swan song performance along David Bowie in Zoolander was a distant second as he and Winslet take turns throughout the movie competing for biggest douche on earth.
This broad has the balls to compare her situation to a slave ship as she boards a luxury liner, first class. Cut away to a poker game featuring Leo, smoking on what appears to be a hand rolled cigarette probably containing opium, his immigrant bestie Fabrizio whom he may or may not have wagered on that final hand as a sex slave against tickets for the ship, explaining his reaction when he feigned defeat initially. That or Leo won him in that card game on top of the pot.
After boarding the doomed vessel, it’s Leo and Febreze’s dolphin encounter that culminates in what appeared to be dry humping while proclaiming he’s king of world. Tell me with a straight face that scene wasn’t like an episode of The Ambiguously Gay Duo and I’d be forced to slap it off you. After some well-crafted dialogue during a dinner scene that included a small dick comment, Rose finds herself making a half-ass suicide attempt which leads to a therapy session with a good-looking hobo from Wisconsin. The un-vitation to dinner following her slip/fall, false accusation of sexual assault, and further lying to authorities was on full display, shitty writing at its finest. The scene mirrored again throughout the next ten minutes of the film, the only difference being the time of day. He tries to be cool and nice, she’s a total bitch, they laugh and we’re in love by minute 28. Highlighted by her viewing his nude portraits and pretending not to be turned on. Rose is a freak. Enter Kathy Bates, another iconic actor forced to spew this garbage, who acts as Leo’s sugar-momma, hooking him up with a tux and decent advice regarding dinner forks. At the table, is Zane at his finest. Rude, massively arrogant and undoubtedly armed with the best fake rich white guy laugh all time, the perfect asshole.
Next, a nonchalant note pass occurs essentially saying “let’s get out of here and party” and cue the music. Apparently, everyone in third class on this boat can dance like Michael Flatley and has a full Irish-folk band on-tap nightly. It is capped off by a wasted Rose executing an old-fashioned version of an American drunk girl classic, dancing on the bar every time Pour Some Sugar on Me is on a jukebox. Her hungover breakfast with Ike Turner, S+M styled pep talk with mom while on the way to Sunday mass completed her weekend. Leo is then told to take a hike by Zane’s right hand dick, while the captain informs them all he intends to play drunken slalom with icebergs at an even greater rate of speed due to the warning of them he just received, with half the lifeboats kind of strategy moving forward.
Rose then rethinks her entire life while watching a mother daughter tea party and whoa baby we’re flying Jack after five minutes of deep thoughts. My theory is she was high off something Fez gave her at the party the night before…only way to explain that ridiculous face, Irish pan flutes playing in her head, while making out with some guy she just met. A naked night at the museum follows, DiCaprio doing his best acting in the film trying to act surprised at a nude woman in his room. Characters that draw one-legged naked prostitute as a hobby don’t strike me as the shy type. Then we cut back to the ancient version of this whore as she lies again to a room of strangers, this time regarding her chastity and quite literally takes to the grave that one time she went out slumming on a cruise ship.
I’ll give her this though, in 1912 there were barely any cars in the entire world, and she was probably the first to get banged-out in the back of one…Pioneer, people. The boat hits the rock as they are getting theirs off and it’s so poetic I could fuckin’ cry. All hell breaking loose ensues, false charges pressed on Jack and suddenly we are swimming in a thunder-dome themed class warfare struggle for lifeboats. Perhaps reaching it’s crescendo with the double-murder suicide committed by the most melodramatic security guard ever. His guilt over plugging a couple people from the angry mob, that in all likely hood would die anyway, was too much for him to bare. He salutes like Patton, then exits like Adolph. The only people who went out like real gangsters were the musicians playing as they went down with the ship, one of the few factual accuracies portrayed in this story. Also, those dudes who went out wasted and dressed to kill had style. Boats ‘N Hoes, baby.
Zane escapes as only Zane can, oozing his way being a foster parent for a minute, then ultimately smacking people with an oar who were trying to board his boat. Fettuccini has a steam tower fall on him, everyone scrambles for high ground and one guy ricochets off a propeller…this we know for sure.
The lights go out, the ship breaks in two and its hypothermia time. Rose whines about being cold as Leo freezes to death, boldly states her undying love for him and pledges to never let go….metaphorically speaking. She then swims three yards and blows a whistle, changes her name to some dead guys she nailed less than twelve hours earlier all while smuggling a diamond into the United States. Then lies about it for a century because according to her logic “a woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets”…Wow. What fucking fortune cookie did you get that from? The finality is this old-bag dressed like Mother Teresa dropping the gemstone into the ocean like a penny at a mall fountain, effectively ending her insomnia as well as a multi-billion dollar oceanographic expedition. The diamond was not rediscovered until some years later when an astronaut dove down to retrieve it for Britney Spears. The End.
The Modern Renaissance Man 
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