From Friday, Cristin Tierney Gallery in New York will be hosting a screening of Titanic—but not the one you know. Instead, this version surfaces as a labor of love, a shot-by-shot remake of the 1997 blockbuster, assembled over more than a decade by an artist and featuring a cast of hundreds.

“Titanic, A Deep Emotion” marks the New York premiere of Claudia Bitrán’s reimagining of the James Cameron film, crafted with a variety of disciplines from drawing and painting to performance and sculpture. The work’s lo-fi approach is evident—like the stop animation used for its opening scene with the submarines—but so is its ambition, which saw the Chilean artist recruit some 1,400 participants as collaborators, actors, and crew members.

“Claudia Bitrán: Titanic, A Deep Emotion” on view at Kiosk in Ghent, Belgium, 2025. Photo: Isabelle Arthuis.

“I really love to make work that broad audiences outside the art world can relate to, understand, or follow,” Bitrán told me over a phone call. “I adore this film. I love James Cameron’s craft. I think it’s really a perfect film that has aged really well.”

For the uninitiated, Titanic stars Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio as doomed lovers Rose and Jack who meet onboard the equally ill-fated vessel. The film was an immediate hit upon its release in 1997, sweeping the Academy Awards and the box office. Its hold on the popular imagination has yet to diminish. 

Behind the scenes of Claudia Bitrán’s Titanic, A Deep Emotion (2013–24). Photo courtesy of the artist.

Bitrán, for one, has remained in its thrall since first seeing it as a preteen in the theaters. For an artist whose work has long unpacked pop culture, the film seemed an ideal subject for a creative reinterpretation and deconstruction. “I know Titanic by heart,” she explained. “I’ve seen it a million times.”

She set out rules for her remake. She would play Rose, while the other characters including Jack would be portrayed by an ever-rotating cast, no matter their ages, genders, or ethnicities. All special effects would be created by hand, often using recycled materials. The scenes would also play out in any language. These guideposts served logistical purposes—allowing flexibility as Bitrán worked with collaborators across the U.S., Mexico, and her native Chile—but had conceptual ends, too.

“Claudia Bitrán: Titanic, A Deep Emotion” on view at Kiosk in Ghent, Belgium, 2025. Photo: Isabelle Arthuis.

The choice to use multiple Jacks, for instance, reflected what Bitrán hoped to evoke about the main characters throughout the film. In their first meeting, when Jack stops Rose from jumping into the water, Bitrán was hoping Rose would be her own savior, hence her casting of a woman, actor Rosalie Lowe, as Jack. When Jack sacrifices his life to save Rose—in the infamous “door scene”—he’s played by the artist’s 10-year-old cousin so the pair seem more mother and child, upping the tragedy. 

Bitrán’s turn as Rose, meanwhile, builds on her previous project, in which she masqueraded as Britney Spears, recreating the pop star’s videos with handmade sets. Stepping into another performer’s shoes—such as for the scene where Jack draws Rose like one of his French girls, which turned into a live drawing party on set—cultivated a strain of empathy in her. “Kate Winslet was criticized for her body at that time and I had a similar body type,” Bitrán said. “I felt for her and I kind of lived through her, through that criticism, in the same way I lived with Britney through hers.”

The story otherwise plays out alongside painted backdrops, cardboard props, recreated paintings, makeshift environments, and even an inflatable ship. At times, certain sites—from train stations to stairwells—would strike Bitrán as reminiscent of “a moment of Titanic,” prompting her to stage a shoot there. “It’s kind of a collage,” she said of the work.

Behind the scenes of Claudia Bitrán’s Titanic, A Deep Emotion (2013–24). Photo courtesy of the artist.

The remake’s rough-hewn edges are naturally in stark contrast to Cameron’s big-budget polish, but its self-crafted charm effectively disassembles the film’s spectacle while capturing its staying power. Bitrán’s love for the movie is on full display; her work, some 12 years in the making, was arguably just as formidable an undertaking as Cameron’s original.

In New York, the remake will be presented as a three-channel video installation, accompanied by paintings, sculptural props, storyboards, stills, notes, and other material documenting its arduous construction. (The film had its European premiere at Kiosk in Belgium last year). Bitrán is currently working on a documentary about the project, for which she is seeking financial support. Clearly, her journey with Titanic is far from over.

“Even though the movie’s done, I think that I’m still going to be this person that lives through that movie. I’ve seen the world this way since I saw it when I was 10. It’s like the thing that will always be there,” she said, before unwittingly invoking Titanic’s most enduring line: “I feel like this is something that I’ll never let go.”

“Titanic, A Deep Emotion” is on view at Cristin Tierney Gallery, 49 Walker Street, New York, New York, February 20–March 28, 2026.