So far so good. The giant-format 3D imagery is intensely enveloping as we prowl around the ship, passing through tiny hatchways to explore staterooms and offices, seeing things no one has seen for 90 years. This is exquisite footage, focussing on the human side of things. And Cameron cleverly uses special effects to overlay photos and computer reconstructions over the ruins so we know what we're looking at. But he isn't about to stop there. No, for some reason he feels the need to actual dramatise things (as if he hadn't done that already!), having ghostly passengers strolling around the decks. This makes the whole thing unnecessarily corny, especially when combined with incessant gushing comments from the cast and crew (how many times can someone say, "Gosh, it's so amazing!"). It's frustrating that Cameron couldn't make a proper documentary, because the footage is astonishingly beautiful, the subject matter is compelling and the timing is eerily relevant. They were in the middle of the project on September 11th, 2001, and the visceral reaction to unthinkable tragedy helps us understand how the world must have felt in April 1912. This sequence gives us a glimpse at how good this film should have been.