Revisiting James Cameron’s Titanic: Was It Ethical?
Jack and Rose on the bow of the Titanic in the 1997 moviecredit: 20th century studios
It has been 25 years since James Cameron’s Titanic Movie burst onto screens and irrevocably changed the landscape of cinema. The film became a cultural phenomenon, captivating audiences worldwide with its epic scale and tragic love story. However, a question persists: is it truly appropriate to build one of the most iconic love stories ever told around a calamity as devastating as the sinking of the RMS Titanic?
A recurring topic of debate surrounding the legacy of the 1997 film Titanic is the constant discussion about the death of the fictional character Jack Dawson. In 2012, the television show Mythbusters even dedicated an entire experiment to proving that he could have potentially survived. Leonardo DiCaprio, the actor who portrayed Jack, is still regularly questioned about what some have dubbed the “biggest movie controversy of all time.” Even a quarter of a century after the Titanic Movie‘s initial release, director James Cameron is so frequently asked about this detail that he is reportedly conducting a “thorough forensic analysis with a hypothermia expert” to finally settle the debate and provide a definitive answer.
Admittedly, watching the scene where Rose DeWitt Bukater gently pries Jack’s frozen hands from hers, sending him into the icy depths of the North Atlantic, is undeniably heartbreaking. It is a moment of profound, fictional tragedy that resonates deeply with viewers. Yet, I can’t help but ponder: how has this persistent debate over the death of a fictional character come to completely overshadow discussions and reflections on the fate of the 1,500 very real people who perished on the Titanic on that dreadful night?
As someone who grew up in the 90s and, to this day, cherishes the characters of Rose and Jack as much as any other millennial, what I am about to say feels almost blasphemous. Despite the film’s place among the highest-grossing movies of all time, I feel the time has truly come to pose the difficult question: should the titanic movie ever have been made in the first place? Was it ethically sound to romanticize one of the most traumatic events of the 20th Century—especially during the lifetime of some of the actual survivors—solely for the purpose of creating a blockbuster cinematic experience?
The RMS Titanic ship sailing before the disastercredit: 20th century studiosIncreasingly, psychologists and social commentators are highlighting the fact that we live in a world that has become significantly desensitized to violence and death, often through constant exposure via media. The impact of this desensitization means that people are potentially losing “the ability to empathise” with real-world suffering. As I observe teenagers passionately debating whether there was enough room on the floating door for both characters, or the satirical narrative employed by the MythBusters team during their investigation, I cannot shake the feeling that many people are inadvertently forgetting that Jack’s fictional fate tragically mirrors the very painful reality of how hundreds of actual individuals died that night in the freezing water.
Remarkably, seven genuine Titanic survivors were still alive when James Cameron’s epic film hit cinemas in 1997. Although most of them were not physically or emotionally able to see the film, one survivor did manage to attend a screening. Eleanor Johnson Shuman, in an account from 1998, described the movie as being “so realistic it was difficult to watch. ‘I did a lot of crying’”. The visceral impact of seeing the disaster depicted on screen was clearly profound for her.
Even before production on Cameron’s ambitious project began, the sentiments and feelings of the survivors regarding dramatizations of the disaster were already well-documented. Milvina Dean, who was just nine months old when the ship sank, grew up to be a firm and vocal critic of the burgeoning “Titanic industry” that emerged particularly after the wreckage was discovered in 1985. After declining to watch both Cameron’s 1997 feature film and his subsequent documentary released in 2003, Dean explicitly stated, “I have only seen one of the Titanic films, when I went to America. It was A Night to Remember […]. But I really couldn’t bear it, it was too distressing”. She explained her feelings further, saying that “when the film showed the ship going down all I could think of was my father, and wonder what he was doing and feeling at that moment. It was terrible, I never wanted to see any of the films, and I don’t want to see this one”. Her words powerfully underscore the deep personal pain these depictions could inflict.
Another survivor, Eva Hart, shared her perspective on retellings of the tragedy as early as 1979, long before Cameron’s film was conceived. She stated that “when the whole thing is finished, and undoubtedly on the screen will be a large ship gradually sinking, nose first; that I cannot look at and don’t want to”. Nevertheless, production on the blockbuster titanic movie continued full steam ahead, seemingly without significant regard for the potential emotional trauma it could cause to the few remaining individuals who had actually lived through the horrific event and lost loved ones.
Fast forward 25 years, and it appears that the entertainment industry has not made substantial progress in thoughtfully addressing the concerns of survivors or their families when dramatizing historical tragedies. October 2022 saw widespread media attention and public outcry surrounding the release of Netflix’s Dahmer series, which graphically depicted the harrowing crimes committed by serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer in the 1980s and 90s. Series creator Ryan Murphy expressed what seemed like bewilderment that despite reaching out to “around 20 – of the victims’ families and friends […], not a single person responded.” The show faced extensive criticism not only for its perceived lack of sensitivity towards the victims’ relatives but also for the way Dahmer himself was occasionally portrayed in a manner that some felt was overly sympathetic.
credit: 20th century studiosBut what connection does this have to the titanic movie? While creative license is generally accepted in historical fiction, certain elements in Titanic, much like in the Dahmer series, arguably cross a line into being unethical, to the detriment of the families historically involved.
One notable example is the film’s portrayal of White Star Line owner J. Bruce Ismay as a blatant coward who abandons his sinking ship and selfishly takes up one of the very limited lifeboat spaces for himself. Today, Ismay’s real-life son and grandson continue to feel the negative impact of this cinematic depiction. They stand by the official ruling of the British inquiry into his actions, which found “no evidence” to contradict his testimony that he “only entered one of the last lifeboats after helping load other boats and checking that there were no more women or children nearby”. His descendants insist “he wasn’t the man he was portrayed – and […], he deserves some justice now”.
Similarly, First Officer William Murdoch, who was actually responsible for saving countless souls before tragically perishing himself in the sinking, is shown in the film as a murderous villain who takes a bribe and commits suicide. In recent years, even James Cameron has admitted that he “wasn’t thinking about the fact that his family […], might feel offended by that, and they were”. This demonstrates a clear oversight regarding the real human impact of fictionalizing historical figures.
Nevertheless, it is undeniable that Cameron’s titanic movie has also achieved considerable positive impact. It has undeniably kept the historical disaster at the forefront of public conversation and awareness far more effectively than many other recent adaptations or historical accounts could. This remains true to this day, ensuring that the tragic events of 1912 are not forgotten by popular culture. Yet, alongside this positive impact, there is also no denying that the film is riddled with ethically questionable flaws in its portrayal of real people and its framing of a devastating loss of life. James Cameron’s box office success with Avatar further solidified his status as a director capable of creating global phenomena. Cameron’s other work like The Fifth Element also showcased his distinct visual style.
Consider the popular West End musical Come From Away. This production is set against the backdrop of the events of 9/11, focusing on how a small town in Newfoundland welcomed stranded airline passengers. It stands as a powerful example of how an awful moment in history can inspire a deeply moving and positive narrative when handled with immense dignity and respect for those involved. It is not uncommon for the real-life “come-from-aways” whose stories are depicted on stage to attend the production, celebrating the remarkable light and kindness they salvaged from one of history’s darkest weeks. The show is an uncontroversial success precisely because the story was told on the survivors’ and affected communities’ terms, prioritizing their experience and humanity.
So the central question returns: if James Cameron’s primary intention with the titanic movie was simply to tell the greatest love story of all time, did it truly need to be set against the backdrop of a very real and devastating historical tragedy involving immense suffering and loss? Was the trauma and pain experienced by the victims, survivors, and their families genuinely his to manipulate and repurpose for the sake of creating a commercially successful cinematic spectacle? While the answers to these complex questions may remain unclear and continue to fuel debate, one thing appears absolutely certain: even after 25 years, people will still be passionately insisting that Jack could have fit on that door.
