泰坦尼克号，是一个世纪的传奇，号称永不沉没的“梦之船”却在首航意外沉没于北大西洋海域。1997年，以这一真实事件为背景的灾难爱情电影《泰坦尼克号》席卷全球，创造了票房神话，片中杰克与露丝凄美浪漫的爱情故事感动了全世界无数观众。为了纪念泰坦尼克号沉没一百周年，导演詹姆斯·卡梅隆亲自将这部电影转制成3D将在全球重映。

　　Critic review for'Titanic 3-D' 泰坦尼克3D影评 from washingtonpost by Ann Hornaday

　　To contemplate "Titanic 3D" - James Cameron's 1997 action-adventure-historical-romance about the 1912 sinking of the eponymous ship - is to engage in a double dose of wistfulness. Cameron’s movie takes filmgoers back not only to an era that seemed to disappear along with the 1,500 people who perished in the disaster, but to a more recent time, when an un-superstar named Leonardo DiCaprio and an unknown named Kate Winslet were barely in their 20s, as ripe and tender as a baby’s sit-down.

　　With Cameron having converted "Titanic" to 3-D in celebration of the film's 15th anniversary, watching the new version also points up just how unnecessary such technological gimmicks are when you have a perfectly good original in the first place.

　　The added visual depth neither enhances or detracts from the charm of revisiting the film's young actors in their coltish prime, as heedless of their coming fame and "Titanic's" record-breaking box office success as their characters are of that iceberg looming out in the dark North Atlantic.

　　In fact, the new bells and whistles seem at odds with "Titanic" as an admittedly lavish but somehow pure enterprise: Just as Cameron pays tribute to a Victorian civilization and culture that went down with the ship, his film pays tribute to an era when a hugely expensive movie could be made with no-name stars, just as it augurs a coming age when stars would barely be needed if a director could manipulate the right computer effects and toy tie-ins.

　　Of course, there are hazards in reassessing any movie, let alone the film that dominated the late 20th century so thoroughly. Cameron's bluntly expository dialogue is still wooden, his plot a hackneyed pastiche of boilerplate set pieces, caricatured villains and melodramatic hokum. But the filmmaker's main aim with "Titanic" was never spontaneous naturalism but finding ways to lead viewers through the 52-ton, 880-foot entirety of the Titanic, from the sumptuous state rooms housing Astors and Guggenheims and grimy environs of the engine rooms to the cramped bunks of steerage, where DiCaprio's poor-but-honest Jack takes Winslet's aristocratic Rose for a wee drink and a romantic spin while Irish fiddles play.

　　All that navigation pays off when filmgoers find themselves confronted with "Titanic's" dazzling and emotionally affecting exercise in scale and spectacle. Is Rose just a tad bit too much of a billboard for the progressive times she's supposed to embody? (She's bringing home a Picasso from a trip to France, and she's a follower of an Austrian fellow named Freud.) Is Billy Zane missing only a waxed mustache to twirl as her shallow and controlling fiance, Cal Hockley? Does Winslet - one year younger than DiCaprio - still possess a womanly maturity that makes Rose's dependence on Jack hard to believe?

　　Sure, but none of that detracts from the essence of "Titanic," which is to plunge viewers into a bygone world, the better for them to witness its destruction first-hand. And when that end comes, the audience doesn't just see it but feel it, whether in the sight of an elderly couple embracing as frigid water eddies around their bed or that valiant orchestra playing "Nearer My God to Thee," or in the horror reflected in the eyes of Kathy Bates's unsinkable Molly Brown as she beholds the slow, fatal descent from one of the "Titanic's" too-few lifeboats.

　　Those moments - as well as the modern-day framing story featuring the late Gloria Stuart - still resonate with an elegiac sense of grief and loss, even as viewers marvel at the technical prowess and sheer chutzpah Cameron marshalled to realize it on screen. The question isn't whether "Titanic" still succeeds in its dual mandate to humanize the Titanic disaster and render it with all the grandeur and size the story demands: It does. The question is whether the film's twin values of humanism and spectacle are enhanced by Cameron's 3-D conversion, and the answer to that is: They aren't.

　　That isn't to say that "Titanic 3D" looks bad. All too often, movies that are converted to 3-D after the fact look murky, monochromatic and cheap. Cameron has spared no expense or expertise in making sure that his film loses none of the brightness or detail that's usually sacrificed for added depth of field. But that extra depth brings no added value by way of visual texture or narrative drive. If anything, 3-D conversion creates distance where there should be intimacy, not to mention odd moments in framing and composition: There are several distracting instances when figures in the side foreground of a shot receive equal visual billing with the actual subjects of the scene.

　　In other words, it's precisely the immersive, first-hand experience that 3-D is supposed to heighten that Cameron managed to create in 1997 by virtue of his own earnestness and simple passion for adventure. Rather than being shown what happened on that April night, it was as if viewers were being pulled vicariously along on the filmmaker's own breathless, gee-whiz journey of discovery and awe.

　　This is no more evident than in the film's famous final minutes, when the filmmaker stages the sinking with a flawless sense of detail, pacing, import and dread. There's no doubt that "Titanic" is worth rereleasing, for a new generation to discover and for the rest of us to relive the thrills, not just of old fashioned bravura filmmaking but of two stars' careers being launched. The backhanded compliment that the gratuitous 3-D conversion delivers is that "Titanic" has had the right dimensions all along.

　　Film review -Titanic 3D 泰坦尼克号3D版观后感 （来自slantmagazine by R. KURT OSENLUND）

　　It's easy to be cynical when it comes to Titanic, a film that reached such dizzying heights of success and cultural prominence that, eventually, the only thing left for it to become was a punchline. Watching its two most famous and parodied moments, both of which take place on the bow of the ship, one almost feels required to snicker. But 15 years later, stretched across the big screen, Kate Winslet's "I'm flying" bit and Leonardo DiCaprio's "I'm the king of the world" declaration also feel moving and momentous, two scenes as deeply iconic as any to have played in theaters since. While recent interviews have suggested that James Cameron is interested in giving the middle finger to films and filmmakers beholden to post-converted 3D, he insists the chief motivation and benefit of Titanic 3D is to let folks witness the film theatrically, quite possibly for the first time. Seeing the result, with eyes aged a decade and a half, the project seems fully warranted, as does that lofty 3D ticket price. Worlds away from the gray-draped dismalness of garbage like Wrath of the Titans, Cameron's meticulously remastered baby is bright, crisp, and beautiful, its newfound depth readily apparent from shots of luxe interiors to ogling scans of the ship itself. It's not your typical 3D film, whose format is forgotten after the first reel. It remains immersive through most all of that whopping 194-minute running time.

　　And those minutes still pass as nimbly as ever. Titanic has always been a movie that puts the brakes on channel surfing, its high stakes and propulsive power too compelling to look away from. Cameron has long taken heat for his dialogue, and it's true that the modern-day framing device is something you must suffer, with all its unwieldy exposition and lines like, "A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets." But he's less often hailed for the narrative elements he gets right, like, say, a spirited chase that lets you witness all levels of the ship, or a devastating montage of doomed souls scored to the music of the famed violinists. The love story, which conveniently allows the viewer to witness the disaster right down to the last frozen whisper, is also remarkably strong, impervious to charges of mismatched actors and ridicule over choice moments like promising to "never let go" while doing precisely that. Both Winslet and DiCaprio's work improves with distance, as one can now better appreciate the ace talent that she was from the start and the leading man that he was fast becoming. And with the exception of Frances Fisher and her one-note iciness as an unflagging social climber, the supporting cast spills over with well-chosen players, namely Kathy Bates as the markedly human Molly Brown and Victor Garber as the soulful ship architect.

　　The massive vessel has been appropriately tagged as a giant, hulking metaphor, one Rose (Winslet) herself acknowledges in a discussion about Freud, the first of many boilerplate names employed to make her character seem culturally astute. But Titanic is rife with symbolism beyond that of the swelling male ego, its abundance of stuff tailor-made for assigned meaning. It can be as simple as Rose's breath-stealing corset, a direct embodiment of the high-society shackles she must escape, or as vast as water, which has rarely been presented as such a stark depiction of death, stared down by many characters in their final moments. The great irony of Titanic is that for all it took to create it, and all the rewards it wrought and reaped, it's an entropy film, degenerating from the moment the ship sets sail. It's a decadent movie about the futility of decadence, the fabulous regalia that excited so many finally rendered moot by nature. It is, relatedly, the ultimate isolated depiction of big-budget Hollywood practices, which so often involve the creation of breathtaking things that'll only be breathtakingly destroyed. There's something pure about the fact that the real ship was brand new: the production design also had to have the gleam and aromas of fresh paint and custom-milled wood, which would also be snapped, ravaged, and, at last, sunk.

　　The re-release is keenly timed with the 100th anniversary of the actual sinking of the RMS Titanic, yet another factor to validate the 3D film's existence. Often dwarfed in fans' heads by the shadow of the swoony romance, the historic element works wonders in legitimizing the movie, and while Avatar may have shattered Titanic's records, it will never have the same pop-culture clout. On screen today, the movie feels timeless, its one dusty visual an overhead shot of what are clearly CG agents walking about the poop deck. And, in the end, maybe this new twist on an old blockbuster is just a way for the world's richest filmmaker to rake in yet more money for Hollywood studios. But you're not going to find a grander spectacle in theaters right now, and the truth is, you haven't found too many in the last 15 years.