Bloated spectacle movie from James Cameron in which the central romance between Leonardo DiCaprio‘s poor artist and Kate Winslet‘s society girl is overwhelmed by the monumental recreation of the historical disaster
The Oscar giant-killer critics love to hate, probably because Titanic has the distinction of being one of the few Best Picture winners not to include any acting or screenplay awards among its tally.

　　Many cite this as proof positive that modern blockbusters sacrifice everything in favour of computer-generated magic and, while the central romance isn‘t without its charm, it‘s still the weakest element of the film.

　　Thus, first-class rich kid Rose DeWitt Bukaer (Winslet) and steerage urchin and struggling artist Jack Dawson (DiCaprio) fall helplessly in love, indulge in some back seat cherry popping and decide on the basis of their two-day relationship that they can‘t live without each other - until a big iceberg gets in the way of their new-found happiness.

　　Cameron is no stranger to spectacle, and the amazing boat-sinking effects paper over the cracks in the story so well that even the most cynical viewer is drawn in.
Verdict
You don‘t like Winslet. You don‘t care about DiCaprio. You‘re grimly aware of every hyper-efficient emotional trigger and fast-forward through whole tranches of bad acting and writing, but in the end, Cameron‘s monumental epic still prises open the tear ducts.