James Horner
Titanic

A piercing sound, an endless melody.

When you see that ship, immense, standing in the port of Southampton and blocking the horizon from the crowd – strange human conflict - that gathers to board it, something knots in your throat. Then you hear those majestic notes – brass and strings in jubilation – rise and reflect off the imposing bulkheads and the shiny decks, and that knot almost takes your breath away. You know you're falling into the usual visionary trap, right?

Those notes will accompany the ship of dreams in its mad dash across the waters, supporting its incredible lightness on its brief journey - The sea is calm, unfortunately - toward a country it will never see. The fish know all about the Titanic (especially them, in fact), I will certainly not elaborate on dry discussions of plots and who knows what else. The truth is that when the immense ice monster will tear apart what it shouldn't and destroy with the ship an entire era (the beautiful one), the notes - the heartbeat of intersecting melodic lines - will create anxiety; those notes will be panic and anticipation: the bass drums will beat in the heart, the violins will sing out in anguish.

The icy water, rippled by a thousand laments, is now illuminated by the colossal dying ship; Rose, as green as the ocean, traces a line of tears on her glassy face in front of her, before the dark waters swallow it. To the ocean itself - piercing sound, endless melody - one last sacrifice: an anthem echoes eternally, sweet in its despair.

In 1997 I was twelve years old and (although like most of the youth I claimed that the best scene was when DiCaprio died - a pale excuse to mask my passion) it seems I cried at the cinema; if I cried it was also because of those notes, warm like the tears of Rose, mine, and thousands of young girls in love (uhm... putting it like this, I do feel a bit ridiculous, truly). In all of this, the beautiful “My Heart Will Go On” (among the best performances by the talented Celine Dion) plays an important yet marginal role: the mad love that ties the fate of the two young people to that of the ship is just a drop in the sea of passions that human recklessness shattered against an icy rock – ice, shattered affections; chill in the hearts.

As harmonious as the sweet warmth of the April sun, and a moment later chilling like a leaden omen, the unforgettable notes that the incredulous James Horner composed for Cameron’s film remain. This senseless tribute of mine will add nothing to those who were moved by the most famous of stories – precisely for this reason, very difficult to tell. Take it for what it is: the confused act of love of an unsuspected tender one towards an unsinkable story.