Leo and Kate
Film Friday
I have been recently writing about how Jane Austen’s 17-year-old heroine in Northanger Abbey uses gothic novels to negotiate the challenges of early 19th century life. Today I talk about how the greatest box office success in Hollywood history did the same for middle school girls in 1997. In fact, a major reason why James Cameron’s Titanic topped the charts is because 12 and 13-year-olds went to see it eight, ten, even 12 times.
One of these girls was Sarah Tennant Simmons, once a student of mine and now a registered nurse. A double major in English and psychology while at St. Mary’s, Sarah wanted to figure out why she and countless others set up shrines in their bedrooms to Leonardo DiCaprio. In her case, “Leomania” involved a poster, several books, ticket stubs, and other related memorabilia in a specially designed corner.
It’s easy to make fun of children this age—just as it’s easy to make fun of Catherine Morland in Northanger Abbey—but as a college senior Sarah took it as a challenge to see the world through middle school eyes. When one does that, the popularity of Titanic not only makes more sense. It also appears a healthy phenomenon.
I got glimpses of how such movies are important to teenagers when I was team-teaching an “Adolescence and Film” class with Barbara Bershon, a psychology professor. I learned from Barbara just why adolescence may be life’s most difficult transition. Apparently we are experience four major changes all at the same time: neurological (our brain is growing), physiological (our bodies are going haywire), cognitive (we are developing a sense of self), and social (we are growing away from our parents). Any one of these alone is traumatic enough. Put them all together and it’s a miracle that we emerge at the other end.
I remember watching Titanic for the first time in the course of the class. After it was over, I walked out of the auditorium in awe. Not in awe of the film, which I found not great, although better than I expected. In awe of middle school girls. I started to get what it meant to them
Sarah sharpened my understanding. She got me to see that the film is not about Leo at all. Rather, it is about Rose’s maturation. Leo is there as her guide and, when she no longer needs him, when she becomes self-sufficient, he can sink quietly into the North Atlantic. She, meanwhile, can go on to leave her mother, ride horses, fly planes, and engage in a host of other activities.
Middle school girls are at a pivotal stage. Their job is to begin venturing out beyond their families to see what the world has to offer. So that’s what they do. It’s an epic journey.
As an epic journey, it deserves an epic film. Sarah got me to see that the movie combines three genres that speak directly to the adolescent mind. In addition to being an epic, the film is a “disaster movie.” After all, at that age, every crisis seems a disaster. The ship is sinking and the end of the world is at hand. And as headline-grabbing disasters go, the Titanic tops them all.
The film is also a coming-of-age melodrama. Rose starts off with a strict mother and a preplanned life. Under the influence of Leo, however, she goes below deck, engages in dirty dancing, smokes, poses nude, has sex in the back of a car, and feels like she’s flying. She’s queen of the world!
And then, when all seems lost and she seems destined to die atop her ice flow, she figures how to survive.
Leo, Sarah got me to see, is the perfect guide. On the one hand, he comes from the world of experience, which is what young girls crave at this age. They know they are going to have to make it in this world and they need guidance. (Even the best of parents can provide only moderate help.) On the other hand, he has a childish quality and so is not threatening. A more mature-looking actor would not do. A middle schooler wants someone who both is and is not grown up.
In building shrines to Leo, in other words, Sarah and others her age were praying for aid in what they instinctively recognized as their job at this point in their lives. From an anthropological point of view, it’s a fascinating phenomenon.
Therefore if you have a teenager, of if you know one, do not judge harshly. In fact, try out the following challenge that Barbara and I gave to our class and gave to ourselves: Recall your most embarrassing or painful moment during those years (yes, I know you probably have an embarrassment of riches in that department) and love yourself for your actions.
Many find this almost impossible to do because we want to pretend those years never happened. We hate ourselves for the awkward friendships and the petty behaviors and the botched attempts at dating. But if we understood ourselves at heroes doing our best in a very uncertain world, we may find ourselves unexpected impressed or even in awe. We will also learn to appreciate those movies that give teenagers inspiration, courage, and direction.
