In the short run, however, some executives responded by setting tight limits on their budgets. Although the Fox and Paramount executives had won the gamble, they didn't enjoy the suspenseful period before the film opened, and they didn't want to sweat like that again. Of course they reserve the option of making Titanic-sized exceptions now and then if all the key executives in the company are agreed that its worth the risk on a specific project.
In all likelihood, other films will be made on the scale of Titanic and even greater quantum levels will be reached. There will always be an audience for spectacle, especially when it moves many of us emotionally. On the other hand, small-budget films at the opposite end of the spectrum can be more profitable in relation to their cost. The major Hollywood studios are learning from the example of independent filmmakers, developing lower-budget films for carefully targeted, specialized audiences, to keep profit flowing while they gamble on the big ones.
It's likely also that filmmakers will be influenced by Cameron's choice to build his script around a young love story, which is widely regarded as a significant factor in the film's success. It's becoming a rule of thumb in Hollywood that an expensive period piece has a better chance if it features a romantic melodrama, preferably with young lovers to make it inviting for the core of the moviegoing audience.
Some critics worry that the weaknesses of the script will become institutionalized because Titanic made so much money, and that future writers will be forced to "dumb down" their scripts to appeal to the mass audience needed to offset the big budgets. That would certainly be nothing new; studios and producers have always argued for broader appeal in expensive productions. But maybe there's another scenario, in which audiences thirst for more sophistication and reward filmmakers who try harder to make their stories both more intelligent and more emotionally universal.
SYNERGY
James Cameron has spoken of a certain synergy that operated with Titanic, a combination of elements that somehow adds up to more than the sum of its parts. Just as certain combinations of chemical elements sometimes produce unexpected powers and capacities, so the elements of acting, sets, costumes, music, effects, story, context, the needs of the audience, and the skills of the artists combined into a mysterious, organic whole which has an emotional and transformative power greater than the sum of the individual parts.
Part of that synergy is the use of the motifs and archetypes of the Hero's Journey, such as tests, crossings, ordeals, suspense, death, rebirth, rescues, escapes, chases, sacred marriages, etc. These devices give the audience reference points in the long story and contribute to making it a coherent design, directed to maximum cathartic effect. In the tradition of the Hero's Journey, Titanic explores death but makes the case for the full embrace of life.
Ultimately the success of the film is a mystery — a secret compact between the audience and the story. Like the men in the mini-sub we can shine some light on this mystery, but in the end we must simply withdraw and wonder.
THE LION KING AND OTHER PROBLEMS
In the summer of 1992 I was asked by the executives at Disney Feature Animation to review story materials on a project called "King of the Jungle." It came to be known as The Lion King and eventually turned into the most successful animated film Disney had done so far, but at the time it was just another opportunity to use the tools of the Hero's Journey on story problems.
As I drove to "animation country" in an anonymous industrial district of Glendale, California, I recalled what I knew of the project so far. This was an unusual undertaking, a departure from the Disney tradition of adapting popular children's literature or classics. For the first time it was an original story idea, cooked up by Jeffrey Katzenberg and his team of young animators on the company jet. They were on a flight back from New York where they had just previewed their latest work, Beauty and the Beast.
Katzenberg, a recent and enthusiastic convert to animation, engaged the animators in a discussion of the moment when they first felt the stirrings of adulthood. He related his own moment of feeling he had become a man, and they all realized it was an interesting thing to make a movie about. They began discussing formats and settings that could support such a story, and eventually hit on the idea of doing it entirely in the world of African animals. Disney had not done an exclusively animal-driven animated feature since Bambi in 1942, so it seemed fresh and also could play on the public's fondness for nature shows. It would avoid some of the problems of animating humans. To animate a human character you have to represent a particular ethnic group and choose certain hair and skin colors, which may prevent audience members with different features from fully identifying with the character. Much of this limitation is swept away with the use of animals, where human concerns about race and genetics are less relevant.
A father-and-son story was developed by borrowing inspiration from Hamlet. Katzenberg liked to bolster animation stories with plot elements from several sources so that a treatment for The Odyssey or Huckleberry Finn might be woven together with themes and structure from It Happened One Night or 48 Hours. The Lion King had elements of Bambi but was made richer and more complex by weaving in some Hamlet plot elements. These included a jealous uncle who bumps off the hero's father and unjustly assumes the throne, and an unready young hero who gradually gathers his will and strikes back.
One of my first assignments, after having read the "King of the Jungle" treatment, was to read Hamlet carefully and draw out elements we could use in our script. I did a Hero's Journey analysis of the Hamlet plot to illustrate its turning points and movements, and then listed many of its memorable lines which the writers could use to playfully evoke the Shakespearean connection. The Disney animated films were conceived to work for all levels of the audience, with physical gags for the youngest kids, irreverent verbal wit and action for teenagers, and sophisticated inside jokes for the adults. Some of Shakespeare entered the script, especially through the character of Scar, the villain, voiced by the English actor Jeremy Irons. He delivered twisted Hamlet references in droll and ironic fashion, with a knowing wink to the grown-up audience.
Arriving at the Disney animation complex, I entered the special world of what would become The Lion King. Every animator's cubicle was plastered with photos and drawings of African life and several of the staff had made photo safari trips to Africa to gather inspiration. Storyboards were set up in the theatre and I sat down with the animators and designers to see the latest presentation by the directors, Rob Minkoff and Roger Ailers.
Here was an opportunity to test some of the Hero's Journey ideas on a major project. I was one of literally hundreds of people giving their opinions on the story, but for a moment I had a chance to influence the final product by my reactions and arguments. I took notes as the animators unfolded the story that was to become The Lion King.
To the rhythms of "The Circle of Life," the African animals gather to honor the birth of a young lion, Simba, whose father is Mufasa, ruler of the region around Pride Rock. One guest at the gathering is a strange old baboon, Rafiki, who is chased away by the King's advisor, a fussy bird named Zazu. Simba grows into a sassy young cub who sings "L Just Can't Wait to be King." Disobeying his father, he sneaks off to explore the spooky Elephant's Graveyard with his young lioness playmate Nala, and there they are terrorized by two comically scary Jackals, servants of Mufasa's jealous brother Scar. Mufasa rescues them but sternly rebukes Simba for disobeying him.