Titanic Words, by Joe Iconis

I was inspired to write this piece after seeing a performance of Titanic (US/UK). The Musical. Not the made-for-television miniseries starring Tim Curry. As this essay initially existed as a social media post, the writing is a tad brambly. I’ve subsequently edited it for clarity and content, but I’ve tried my best to keep its original, rambling spirit intact. Godspeed.

– Joe Iconis, composer/lyricist of, among other shows, Be More Chill (US/UK),  Family Album (US/UK) and Things to Ruin (US/UK)

Titanic Words

I saw the original production of Maury Yeston & Peter Stone’s Titanic as a high schooler and I enjoyed it. [At the time, my favorite musical of the year was, obviously, The Life (US/UK). But Titanic was a strong number 2. And, because I am a theater obsessive, I can’t let this parenthetical conclude without also acknowledging my appreciation of the unjustly forgotten Steel Pier (US/UK).] I didn’t see the show again until a few weeks ago when, like much of the theatergoing population of New York City, I caught the Encores! Concert production. In 1997, Titanic felt rousing and solid and familiar. But right now, in the late spring of 2024, when performed by a phenomenally talented group of artists, Titanic feels revelatory.

What a joy to hear a score that was written by someone who understands, reveres, and straight-up loves musicals. What a thrill to hear a score that doesn’t comment on the art form of musical theater and doesn’t spend its time letting you know that it is, somehow, above the genre. Or too cool for the genre. Or smarter than the genre. The score of Titanic feels drunk on musical theater. Melodramatic, heightened, gloriously sentimental musical theater.

So much conversation surrounding Titanic centers on how stunning the score sounds when performed with a full cast and orchestra. (Let us now have a parenthetical for Jonathan Tunick. All hail Tunick.) But the reason it sounds so good has just as much to do with the writing as it does the execution.

The music is lush and melodic and wired directly into the bursting heart at the center of the story. The musical score is everything you could want in a show like this. It’s gorgeous, no question. But those lyrics. Those fabulous, underappreciated, meat-and-potatoes-with-extra-gravy lyrics. (Maury Yeston doesn’t mess around.) The lyrics rhyme, Actually rhyme, which allows the ear to instantaneously hear the words and the brain to instantaneously digest their meaning. Even in complicated patter songs, even in moments where the company is singing different lines over top each other, the lyrics are always intelligible. And, because of that, the listener can effortlessly connect to the intentions of the characters and empathize with their circumstances. An audience can fully give themselves over to the rapture of the music when they aren’t trying to decipher what everyone is saying. I really believe that the emotional experience most people have while watching this musical happens because the lyrics are so tight.

And it’s more than just the rhyming. The lyrics are clear. You know when you hear a musical theater lyric and you think: “Huh? What does that mean?” Or: “I sorta-kinda-almost know what the writer is trying to say and they aren’t quite accomplishing it, but I get the gist!” That split second of trying to decipher the meaning or crack the logic behind a lyric distracts you from whatever intellectual or emotional journey you’re on. There are no distractions in the Titanic score. Without ever sacrificing the style, elegance, or poetry of a moment, clarity remains the defining characteristic of the lyrics. And that right there is craft and Wow does it make all the difference. I am an old man shouting on a lawn about how craft matters and I am proud of this.

I think it’s so strange that the Titanic score feels revelatory in 2024. It didn’t in 1997, but only because there used to be more musicals like it. Maybe not quite as grandly romantic or choral or monumental in scope… but, still, it didn’t feel all that far off from other musicals that had recently opened before it. The score did not strike me as earth-shattering in high school the way it did a few weeks ago. My first thought at intermission: “I haven’t sat in a theater and heard a score like this one in twenty years.”

I love theater and, in particular, I love musical theater. It’s an art form that isn’t treated with the respect it deserves from those on the outside and, in this writer’s humble-yet-hardy opinion, many on the inside. When I see musicals created by writers who seem to have a willful ignorance and/or total disdain for the form, I get depressed. And disappointed. And, occasionally, full-blown enraged. It’s usually all three at the same time.

Titanic reminded me how easy it is to fall head over heels in love with a great musical. You don’t have to make excuses for it. You don’t have to read a study guide beforehand or a pop star’s Wikipedia page afterward. You can just sit in a dark room with a bunch of strangers and let the art wash over you. And you can do that because you instinctually feel, in the moment, that you’re in good hands. Those hands are the craft. And they hold the art up.

Musical theater is a precarious, ephemeral, exhilarating art form. It feels like it will be around forever and is forever on the verge of extinction. Much is being said about the state of theater (to say nothing of the state of the world) and all that talk can turn real bleak real fast. Nights like the night I spent falling in love with Titanic give me hope. I don’t know where we’re headed, but I’m inspired enough to keep going on the journey. Sail on.

For more information about Titanic, Nine, Phantom and other Maury Yeston musicals, visit Maury’s author page at Concord Theatricals (US/UK).
For more information about Titanic, Sugar, The Will Rogers Follies and other Peter Stone musicals, visit Peter’s author page (US/UK).
For more information about Be More Chill, Family Album, Punk Rock Girl! and other Joe Iconis musicals, visit Joe’s author page (US/UK).