One is ahead of the other, and passes close enough to FILL FRAME, looking like a spacecraft blazing with lights, bristling with insectile manipulators.
TILTING DOWN to follow it as it descends away into the limitless
blackness below. Soon they are fireflies, then stars, then gone.
INSIDE, it is a cramped seven foot sphere, crammed with equipment.
ANATOLY MIKAILAVICH, the sub's pilot, sits hunched over his controls... singing softly in Russian.
Next to him on one side is BROCK LOVETT. Heís in his late forties, deeply tanned, and likes to wear his Nomex suit unzipped to show the gold from famous
shipwrecks covering his gray chesthair. He is a wiley, fast-talking treasure hunter, a salvage superstar who is part historian, part adventurer and part vacuum cleaner salesman. Right now, he is propped up against the Co2 scrubber fast asleep and snoring.
On the other side, crammed into the remaining space is a bearded wide-body
named LEWIS BODINE, who is also asleep. Lewis is am R.O.V.
(REMOTELY OPERATED VEHICLE) pilot and is the resident Titanic
Anatoly glances at the bottom sonar and makes a ballast adjustment.
MINUTES LATER: THE TWO SUBS skim over the sea floor to the sound of sidescan sonar and the THRUM of big thrusters.
The featureless gray clay of the bottom unrolls in the lights of the subs. Bodine is watching the sidescan sonar display, where the outline of a huge pointed object is visible. Anatoly lies prone, driving the sub, his face pressed to the center port.
Do you see it? I don't see it... there!
THE TITANIC. Or what is left of her. Mir One goes up and over the bow railing, intact except for an overgrowth of "rusticals" draping it like mutated Spanish moss.
TIGHT ON THE EYEPIECE MONITOR of a video camcorder. Brock Lovett's face fills the BLACK AND WHITE FRAME.
OUTSIDE THE SUB, the ROV, a small orange and black robot called SNOOP DOG, lifts from it's cradle and flies forward.
Snoop Dog goes down several decks, then moves laterally into the First Class Reception room.
SNOOP'S POV, moving through the cavernous interior. The remains of the ornate handcarved woodwork which gave the ship it's elegance move through the floodlights, the lines blurred by slow dissolution and descending rustical formations. Stalactites of rust hang down so that at times it looks like a natural grotto, then the scene shifts and the lines of a ghostly undersea mansion can be seen again.
MONTAGE STYLE, as Snoop passes ghostly images of Titanic's opulence:
A grand piano in amazingly good shape, crashes on it's side against a wall. The keys gleam black and white in the lights.
A chandelier, still hanging from the ceiling by it's wire... glinting as Snoop moves around it.
It's lights play across the floor, revealing a champagne bottle, them some WHITE STAR LINE china... a womanís high top "granny shoe". Then something eerie: what looks like a childís skull resolves into the porcelain head of a doll.
Snoop enters a corridor which is much better preserved. Here and there a door still hangs on it's rusted hinges. An ornate piece of molding, a wall sonce... hint at the grandeur of the past.
THE ROV turns and goes through a black doorway, entering room B-52, the sitting room of a "promenade suite", one of the most luxurious staterooms on Titanic.
Stay off the floor. Don't stir it up like you did
I'm tryin' boss.
THE SAFE, dripping wet in the afternoon sun, is lowered onto the deck of a ship by a winch cable.
We are on the Russian research vessel AKADEMIK MISTISLAV KELDYSH. A crowd has gathered, including most of the crew of KELDYSH, the sub crews, and a handwringing money guy named BOBBY BUELL who represents the limited partners. There is also a documentary video crew, hired by Lovett to cover his moment of glory.
Everyone crowds around the safe. In the background Mir Two is being lowered into its cradle on deck by a massive hydraulic arm. Mir One is already recovered with Lewis Bodine following Brock Lovett as he bounds over to the safe like a kid on Christmas morning.
You are, Lewis.
(to the video crew)
You know, boss, this happened to Geraldo and his
career never recovered.
(to the video cameraman)
Get that outta my face.
Technicians are carefully removing some papers from the safe and placing them in a tray of water to separate them safely. Nearby, other artifacts from the stateroom are being washed and preserved.
Buell is on the satellite phone with the INVESTORS. Lovett is yelling at the video crew.
How it's going? It's going like a first date in prison,
Brock looks closely at the drawing, which is in excellent shape, though its edges have partially disintegrated. The woman is beautiful, and beautifully rendered. In her late teens or early twenties, she is nude, though posed with a kind of casual modesty. She is on an Empire divan, in a pool of light that seems to radiate outward from her eyes. Scrawled in the lower right corner is the date: April 14. 1912. And the initials JD.
The girl is not entirely nude. At her throat is a diamond necklace with one large stone hanging in the center.
Lovett grabs a reference photo from the clutter on the lab table. It is a period black-and- white photo of a diamond necklace on a black velvet jewelerís display stand. He holds it next to the drawing. It is clearly the same piece... a complex setting with a massive central stone which is almost heart-shaped.
A CNN NEWS STORY: a live satellite feed from the deck of the Kelysh, intercut with the CNN studio.
Yes, hi, Tracy. You know, Titanic is not just A
shipwreck, Titanic is THE shipwreck. It's the Mount
Everest of shipwrecks.
PULL BACK from the screen, showing the CNN report playing on a TV set in the living room of a small rustic house. It's full of ceramics, figurines, folk art, the walls crammed with drawings and paintings... things collected over a lifetime.
PANNING to show a glassed-in studio attached to the house. Outside is a quiet morning in Ojai, California. In the studio, amid incredible clutter, an ANCIENT WOMAN is throwing a pot on a potter's wheel. The liquid red clay covers her hands... hands that are gnarled and age-spotted, but still surprisingly strong and supple. A woman in here early forties assists her.
CNN REPORTER (V.O.)
But it's no secret that education is not your main
purpose. You're a treasure hunter. So what is the
treasure you're hunting?
BROCK (V. O.)
I'd rather tell you than show you, and we think we're
very close to doing just that.
But her eyes are just as bright and alive as those of a young girl.
Rose gets up and walks into the living room, wiping pottery clay from her hands with a rag. A Pomeranian dog gets up and comes in with her.
The younger woman, LIZZY CALVERT, rushes to help her.
Your expedition is at the center of a storm of
controversy over salvage rights and even ethics.
Many are calling you a grave robber.
CUT TO KELDYSH. The Mir subs are being launched. Mir Two is already in the water, and Lovett is getting ready to climb into Mir One when Bobby Buell runs up to him.
Bobby, we're launching. See these submersibles
here, going in the water? Take a message.
No, trust me, you want to take this call.
Buell hands Lovett the phone, punching down the blinking line. The call is from Rose an we see both ends of the conversation. She is in her kitchen with a mystified Lizzy.
... Mrs. Calvert?
I was just wondering if you had found the "Heart of
the Ocean" yet, Mr. Lovett.
Alright. You have my attention, Rose. Can you tell
me who the woman in the picture is?
Oh yes. The woman in the picture is me.
CLOSE ON A WINDOW of the monster helicopter. Roses face is visible, looking out calmly.
Brock and Bodine are watching Mir Two being swung over the side to start a dive.
A hundred and one next month.
Okay, so she's a very old goddamned liar. I traced
her back as far as the 20's... she was working as an
actress in L.A. An actress. Her name was Rose
Dawson. Then she married a guy named Calvert,
moved to Cedar Rapids, had two kids. Now Calvert's
dead, and from what I've heard Cedar Rapids is dead.
IN A THUNDERING DOWNBLAST the helicopter's wheels bounce on the helipad.
Lovett, Buell and Bodine watch as the HELICOPTER CREW CHIEF hands out about ten suitcases, and then Rose is lowered to the deck in a wheelchair by Keldysh crewmen. Lizzy, ducking unnecessarily under the rotor, follows her out, carrying FREDDY the Pomeranian. The crew chief hands a puzzled Keldysh crewmember a goldfish bowl with several fish in it. Rose does not travel light.
HOLD ON the incongruous image of this little old lady, looking impossibly fragile amongst all the high tech gear, grungy deck crew and gigantic equipment.
Lizzy is unpacking Rose's things in the small utilitarian room. Rose is placing a number of FRAMED PHOTOS on the bureau, arranging them carefully next to the fishbowl. Brock and Bodine are in the doorway.
Yes, very nice. Have you met my granddaughter,
Lizzy? She takes care of me.
Yes. We met just a few minutes ago, grandma.
Remember? Up on deck?
Would you like anything?
I should like to see my drawing.
Rose looks at the drawing in its tray of water, confronting herself across a span of 84 years. Until they can figure out the best way to preserve it, they have to keep it immersed. It sways and ripples, almost as if alive.
TIGHT ON Roses ancient eyes, gazing at the drawing.
FLASHCUT of a man's hand, holding a conte crayon, deftly creating a shoulder and the shape of her hair with two efficient lines.
THE WOMAN'S FACE IN THE DRAWING, dancing under the water.
A FLASHCUT of a man's eyes, just visible over the top of a sketching pad. They look up suddenly, right into the LENS. Soft eyes, but fearlessly direct.
Rose smiles, remembering. Brock has the reference photo of the necklace in his hand.
It was a dreadful, heavy thing.
(she points to the drawing)
I only wore it this once.
You actually believe this is you, grandma?
It is me, dear. Wasn't I a hot number?
I tracked it down through insurance records... an old
claim was settled under terms of absolute secrecy.
Do you know who the claimant was, Rose?
Someone named Hockley, I should imagine.
Nathan Hockley, right. Pittsburgh steel tycoon. For a
diamond necklace his son Caledon Hockley bought in
France for his fiancee... you... a week before he sailed
on Titanic. And the claim was filed right after the
sinking. So the diamond had to've gone down with
See the date?
April 14, 1912.
If your grandma is who she says she is, she was
wearing the diamond the day the Titanic sank.
And that makes you my new best friend. I will
happily compensate you for anything you can tell us
that will lead to the recovery.
I don't want your money, Mr. Lovett. I know how
hard it is for people who care greatly for money to give
You don't want anything?
(indicating the drawing)
You may give me this, if anything I tell you is of
(crossing the room)
Over here are a few things we've recovered from your
It is a darkened room lined with TV monitors. IMAGES OF THE WRECK fill the screens, fed from Mir One and Two, and the two ROV's, snoop Dog and DUNCAN.
Rose might not want to see this, Lewis.
No, no. It's fine. I'm curious.
Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr. Bodine.
Of course the experience of it was somewhat less
Will you share it with us?
A VIEW from one of the subs TRACKING SLOWLY over the boat deck. Rose recognizes one of the Wellin davits, still in place. She hears ghostly waltz music. The faint and echoing sound of an officer's voice, English accented, calling "Women and children only".
FLASHCUTS of screaming faces in a running crowd. Pandemonium and terror. People crying, praying, kneeling on the deck. Just impressions... flashes in the dark.
Rose looks at another monitor. SNOOP DOG moving down a rusted debris-filled corridor. Rose watches the endless row of doorways sliding past, like dark mouths.
IMAGES OF A CHILD, three years old, standing ankle deep in the water in the middle of an endless corridor. The child is lost and alone, crying.
Rose is shaken by the flood of memories and emotions. Her eyes well up and she puts her head down, sobbing quietly.
Just tell us what you can --
(holds up her hand for silence)
It's been 84 years... and I can still smell the fresh
paint. The china had never been used. The beds had
never been slept in.
SHOT CONTINUES IN A GLORIOUS REVEL as the gleaming white superstructure of Titanic rises mountainously beyond the rail, and above that of the buff-colored funnels stand against the sky like the pillars of a great temple. Crewmen move across the boat deck, dwarfed by the awesome scale of the steamer.
Southampton, England, April 10, 1912. it is almost noon on sailing day. A crowd of hundreds blackens the pier next to Titanic like ants on a jelly sandwich.
IN FG a gorgeous burgundy RENAULT TOURING CAR swings into frame, hanging from a loading crane. It is lowered toward HATCH #2.
On the pier horsedrawn vehicles, motorcars and lorries move slowly through the dense throng. The atmosphere is one of excitement and general giddiness. People embrace in tearful farewells, or wave and shout bon voyage wishes to friends and relatives on the decks above.
A white RENAULT, leading a silver-gray DAIMLER-BENZ, pushes through the crowd leaving a wake in the press of people. Around the handsome cars people are streaming to board the ship, jostling with hustling seamen and stokers, porters and barking WHITE STAR LINE officials.
The Renault stops and the LIVERIED DRIVER scurries to open the door for a YOUNG WOMAN dressed in a stunning white and purple outfit, with an enormous feathered hat. She is 17 years old and beautiful, regal of bearing, with piercing eyes.
It is the girl in the drawing. ROSE. She looks up at the ship, taking it in with cool appraisal.
(gazing at the leviathan)
So this is the ship they say is unsinkable.
It is unsinkable. God himself couldn't sink this ship.
This entire entourage of rich Americans is impeccably turned out, a quintessential example of the Edwardian upper class, complete with servants. Cal's VALET SPICER
LOVEJOY, it tall and impassive, dour as an undertaker. Behind him emerge TWO MAIDS, personal servants to Ruth and Rose.
A WHITE STAR LINE PORTER scurries toward them, harried by last minute loading.
Yes, sir. My pleasure sir.
Cal breezes on, leaving the minions to scramble. He quickly checks his pocket watch.
They pass a line of steerage passengers in their coarse wool and tweeds, queued up inside movable barriers like cattle in a chute. A HEALTH OFFICER examines their heads one by one, checking scalp and eyelashes for lice.
They pass a well-dressed young man cranking the handle of a wooden Biograph "cinematograph" camera mounted on a tripod. DANIEL MARVIN (whose father founded the Biograph Film Studio) is filming his young bride in front of the Titanic. MARY MARVIN stands stiffly and smiles, self conscious.
Mary Marvin, without an acting fiber in her body, does a bad Clara Bow pantomime of awe, hands raised.
Cal is jostled by two yelling steerage boys who shove past him. And he is bumped again a second later by the boys' father.
Honestly, Cal, if you werenít forever booking
everything at the last instant, we could have gone
through the terminal instead of running along the dock
like some squalid immigrant family.
All part of my charm, Ruth. At any rate, it was my
darling fiancee's beauty rituals which made up late.
You told me to change.
I couldn't let you wear black on sailing day, sweetpea.
It's bad luck.
I felt like black
Cal guides them out of the path of a horse-drawn wagon loaded with two tons of OXFORD MARMALADE, in wooden cases, for Titanic's Victualling Department.
A VIEW OF TITANIC from several blocks away, towering above the terminal buildings like the skyline of a city. The steamer's whistle echoes across Southampton.
PULL BACK, revealing that we were looking through a window, and back further to show the smoky inside of a pub. It is crowded with dockworkers and ship's crew.
Just inside the window, a poker game is in progress. FOUR MEN, in working class clothes, play a very serious hand.
JACK DAWSON and FABRIZIO DE ROSSI, both about 20, exchange a glance as the other two players argue in Swedish. Jack is American, a lanky drifter with his hair a little long for the standards of the times. He is also unshaven, and his clothes are rumpled from sleeping in them. He is an artist, and has adopted the bohemian style of the art scene in Paris. He is also very self-possessed and sure-footed for 20, having lived on his own since 15.
The TWO SWEDES continue their sullen argument, in Swedish.
You lost our money. I'm just trying to get it back.
Now shutup and take a card.
Hit me again, Sven.
ECU JACK'S EYES. They betray nothing.
CLOSE ON FABRIZIO licking his lips nervously as he refuses a card.
ECU STACK in the middle of the table. Bills and coins from four countries. This has been going on for a while. Sitting on top of the money are two 3RD CLASS TICKETS for RMS TITANIC.
The Titanic's whistle blows again. Final warning.
What sorry? What you got? You lose my money??
Ma va fa'n culo testa di cazzo --
Sorry, you're not going to see your mama again for a
Porca Madonna!! YEEAAAAA!!!
Jack kisses the tickets, then jumps on Fabrizioís back and rides him around the pub itís like winning the lottery.
You see? Is my destinio!! Like I told you. I go to
líAmerica!! To be a millionaire!!
Capito?? I got to America!!
No, mate. Titanic go to America. In five minutes.
Shit!! Come on, Fabri!
(grabbing their stuff)
(to all, grinning)
Itís been grand.
EXT. TERMINAL - TITANIC
Jack and Fabrizio, carrying everything they own in the world in the kit bags on their shoulders, sprint toward the pier. They tear through milling crowds next to the terminal. Shouts go up behind them as they jostle slow-moving gentlemen. They dodge piles of luggage, and weave through groups of people. They burst out onto the pier and Jack comes to a dead stop... staring at the vast wall of the ships hull, towering seven stories above the wharf and over an eighth of a mile long. the Titanic is monstrous.
Fabrizio runs back and grabs Jack, and they sprint toward the third class gangway aft, at E deck. They reach the bottom of the ramp just as SIXTH OFFICER MOODY detaches it at the top. It stars to swing down from the gangway doors.
Of course! Anyway, we donít have lice, weíre
(glances at Fabrizio)
Both of us.
Right, come aboard.
EXT. TITANIC AND DOCK - DAY
The mooring lines, as big around as a manís arm, are dropped into the water. A cheer goes up on the pier as SEVEN TUGS pull the Titanic away from the quay.
JACK AND FABRIZIO burst through a door onto the aft well deck. TRACKING WITH THEM as they run across the deck and up the steel stairs to the poop deck. They get to the rail and Jack starts to yell and wave to the crowd on the dock.
Of course not. Thatís not the point.
(to the crowd)
Goodbye! Goodbye!! Iíll miss you!!
EXT. SOUTHAMPTON DOCK - DAY
The crowd of cheering well-wishers waves heartily as a black wall of metal moves past them. Impossibly tiny figures wave back from the shipís rails. Titanic gathers speed.
IN A LONG LENS SHOT the prow of Titanic FILLS FRAME behind the lead tug, which is dwarfed. The bow wave spreads before the mighty plow of the liners hull as it moves down the River Test toward the English Channel.
Jack and Fabrizio walk down a narrow corridor with doors lining both sides like a college dorm. Total confusion as people argue over luggage in several languages, or wander in confusion in the labyrinth. They pass emigrants studying the signs over the doors, and looking up the words in phrase books.
They find their berth. It is a modest cubical, painted enamel white, with four bunks. Exposed pipes overhead. The other two guys are already there. OLAUS and BJORN GUNDERSEN.
Jack throws his kit on one open bunk, while Fabrizio takes the other.
A room service waiter pours champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and hands the Bucks Fizz to Rose. She is looking through her new paintings. There is a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works. They are all unknown paintings... lost works.
Cal is out on the covered deck, which has potted trees and vines on trellises, talking through the doorway to Rose in the sitting room.
(looking at a cubist portrait)
You're wrong. They're fascinating. Like in a
dream... there's truth without logic. Whatís his name
(reading off the canvas)
(coming into the sitting room)
He'll never amount to a thing, trust me. At least they
(blushing at the innuendo)
S'cuse me, Miss.
Titanic stands silhouetted against a purple post-sunset sky. She is lit up like a floating palace, and her thousand portholes reflect in the calm harbor waters. The 150 foot tender Nomadic lies-to alongside, looking like a rowboat. The lights of Cherbourg harbor complete the postcard image.
Entering the first class reception room from the tender are a number of prominent passengers. A BROAD-SHOULDERED WOMAN in an enormous feathered hat comes up the gangway, carrying a suitcase in each hand, a spindly porter running to catch up with her to take her bags.
OLD ROSE (V.O.)
At Cherbourg a woman came aboard named Margaret
Brown, but we all called her Molly. History would
call her the Unsinkable Molly Brown. Her husband
had struck gold someplace out west, and she was
what mother called "new money".
EXT. BOW - DAY
The ship glows with the warm creamy light of late afternoon. Jack and Fabrizio stand right at the bow gripping the curved railing so familiar from images of the wreck. Jack leans over, looking down fifty feet to where the prow cuts the surface like a knife, sending up two glassy sheets of water.
ON THE BRIDGE, CAPTAIN SMITH turns from the binnacle to FIRST OFFICER WILLIAM MURDOCH.
NOW BEGINS a kind of musical/visual setpiece... an ode to the great ship. The music is rhythmatic, surging forward with a soaring melody that addresses the majesty and optimism of the ship of dreams.
IN THE ENGINE ROOM the telegraph clangs and moves to "All Ahead Full".
IN THE BOILER ROOMS the STOKERS chant a song as they hurl coal into the roaring furnaces. The "black gang" are covered with sweat and coal dust, their muscles working like part of the machinery as they toil in the hellish glow.
UNDERWATER the enormous bronze screws chop through the water, hurling the steamer forward and churning up a vortex of foam that lingers for miles behind the juggernaut ship. Smoke pours from the funnels as --
The riven water flares higher at the bow as the shipís speed builds. THE CAMERA SWEEPS UP the prow to find Jack, the wind streaming through his hair and --
Captain Smith steps out of the enclosed bridge onto the wing. He stands with his hands on the rail, looking every bit the storybook picture of a Captain... a great patriarch of the sea.
Sheís got a bone in her teeth now, eh, Mr. Murdoch.
AT THE BOW Jack and Fabrizio lean far over, looking down.
In the glassy bow-wave two dolphins appear, under the water, running fast just in front of the steel blade of the prow. They do it for the sheer joy and exultation of motion. Jack watches the dolphins and grins. They break, jumping clear of the water and then dive back, crisscrossing in front of the bow, dancing ahead of the juggernaut.
FABRIZIO looks forward across the Atlantic, staring into the sunsparkles.
NOW WE PULL BACK, across the forecastle deck. Rising as we continue back, and the ship rolls endlessly forward underneath. Over the bridge wing, along the boat deck until her funnels come INTO FRAME beside us and march past like the pillars of heaven, one by one. We pull back, until we are looking down the funnels, and the people strolling on the decks and standing at the rail become antlike.
And still we pull back until the great lady is seen whole, in a gorgeous aerial portrait, black and severe in her majesty.
CLOSE ON J. BRUCE ISMAY, managing director of the White Star Line.
WIDER, showing the group assembled for lunch the next day. Ismay seated with Cal, Rose, Ruth, Molly Brown and Thomas Andrews in the Palm Court, a beautiful sunny spot enclosed by high arched windows.
Whyíre ships always beiní called ďsheĒ? Is it because
men think half the women around have big sterns and
should be weighed in tonnage?
(they all laugh)
Just another example of the men settiní the rules their
Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And
size means stability, luxury... and safety --
Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male
preoccupation with size might be of particular interest
to you, Mr. Ismay.
Sheís a pistol, Cal. You sure you can handle her?
(tense but feigning unconcern)
Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from
Jack sits on a bench in the sun. Titanicís wake spreads out behind him to the horizon. He has his knees pulled up, supporting a leather bound sketching pad, his only valuable possession. With conte crayon he draws rapidly, using sure strokes. An emigrant from Manchester named CARTMELL has his 3 year old daughter CORA standing on the lower rung of the rail. She is leaning back against his beer barrel of a stomach, watching the seagulls.
THE SKETCH captures them perfectly, with a great sense of the humanity of the moment. Jack is good. Really good. Fabrizio looks over Jacks shoulder. He nods appreciatively.
TOMMY RYAN, a scowling young Irish emigrant, watches as a crewmember comes by, walking three small dogs around the deck. One of them, a BLACK FRENCH BULLDOG, is among the ugliest creatures on the planet.
Like we could forget.
CLOSE ON JACK, unable to take his eyes off of her. They are across from each other, about 60 feet apart, with the well deck like a valley between them. She on her promontory, he on his much lower one. She stares down at the water.
He watches her unpin her elaborate hat and take it off. She looks at the frilly absurd thing, then tosses it over the rail. It sails far down to the water and is carried away, astern. A spot of yellow in the vast ocean. He is riveted by her. She looks like a figure in a romantic novel, sad and isolated.
Fabrizio taps Tommy and they both look at Jack gazing at Rose. Fabrizio and Tommy grin at each other.
Rose turns suddenly and looks right at Jack. He is caught staring, but he doesnít look away. She does, but then looks back. Their eyes meet across the space of the well deck, across the gulf between worlds.
Jack sees a man (Cal) come up behind her and take her arm. She jerks her arm away. They argue in pantomime. She storms away, and he goes after her, disappearing along the A-deck promenade. Jack stares after her.
SLOWLY PUSHING IN ON ROSE as she sits, flanked by people in heated conversation. Cal and Ruth are laughing together, while on the other side LADY DUFF-GORDON is holding forth animatedly. We donít hear what they are saying. Rose is staring at her plate, barely listening to the inconsequential babble around her.
Rose walks along the corridor. A steward coming the other way greets her, and she nods with a slight smile. She is perfectly composed.
She enters the room. Stands in the middle, staring at her reflection in the large vanity mirror. Just stands there, then --
With a primal, anguished cry she claws at her throat, ripping off her pearl necklace, which explodes across the room. In a frenzy she tears at herself, her clothes, her hair... then attacks the room. She flings everything off the dresser and it flies clattering against the wall. She hurls the handmirror against the vanity, cracking it.
Rose runs along the B deck promenade. She is disheveled, her hair flying. She is crying, her cheeks streaked with tears. But also angry, furious! Shaking with emotions she doesnít understand... hatred, self-hatred, desperation. A strolling couple watch her pass. Shocked at the emotional display in public.
Jack is kicked back on one of the benches gazing at the stars blazing gloriously overhead. Thinking artist thoughts and smoking a cigarette.
Hearing something, he turns as Rose runs up the stairs from the well deck. They are the only two on the stern deck, except for QUARTERMASTER ROWE, twenty feet above them on the docking bridge catwalk. She doesnít see Jack in the shadows, and runs right past him.
TRACKING WITH ROSE as she runs across the deserted fantail. Her breath hitches in an occasional sob, which she suppresses. Rose slams against the stern flagpole and clings there, panting. She stares out at the black water.
Then starts to climb over the railing. She has to hitch her long dress way up, and climbing is clumsy. Moving methodically she turns her body and gets her heels on the white painted gunwale, her back to the railing, facing out toward blackness. 60 feet below her, the massive propellers are churning the Atlantic into white foam, and a ghostly wake trails off toward the horizon.
IN A LOW ANGLE, we see Rose standing like a figurehead in reverse. Below her are the huge letters of the name "TITANIC".
She leans out, her arms straightening... looking down hypnotized, into the vortex below her. Her dress and hair are lifted by the wind of the ship's movement. The only sound, above the rush of water below, is the flutter and snap of the big Union Jack right above her.
No! Stay where you are. I mean it. I'll let go.
No you won't.
What do you mean no I won't? Don't presume to tell
me what I will and will not do. You don't know me.
You would have done it already. Now come on, take
I can't. I'm involved now. If you let go I have to
jump in after you.
Don't be absurd. You'll be killed.
It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't. To be
honest I'm a lot more concerned about the water
being so cold.
(taking off his left shoe)
Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over.
Well they have some of the coldest winters around,
and I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. Once
when I was a kid me and my father were ice-fishing
out on Lake Wissota... ice-fishing's where you chop a
hole in the --
I know what ice fishing is!
Sorry. Just... you look like kind of an indoor girl.
Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm tellin'
ya, water that cold... like right down there... it
hits you like a thousand knives stabbing all over your
body. You can't breath, you can't think... least not
about anything but the pain.
(takes off his other shoe)
Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in
after you. But like I said, I don't see a choice.
I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the
rail and get me off the hook here.
That's what everybody says. But with all due respect,
I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship.
Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dawson.
She plunges, letting out a piercing SHRIEK. Jack, gripping her hand, is jerked toward the rail. Rose barely grabs a lower rail with her free hand.
QUARTERMASTER ROWE, up on the docking bridge hears the scream and heads for the ladder.
I've got you. I won't let go.
Jack, awkwardly clutching Rose by whatever he can get a grip on as she flails, get her over the railing. They fall together onto the deck in a tangled heap, spinning in such a way that Jack winds up slightly on top of her.
Rowe slides down the ladder from the docking bridge like it's a fire drill and sprints across the fantail.
A few minutes later. Jack is being detained by the burly MASTER AT ARMS, the closest thing to a cop on board. He is handcuffing Jack. Cal is right in front of Jack, and furious. He has obviously just rushed out here with Lovejoy and another man, and none of them have coats over their black tie evening dress. The other man is COLONEL ARCHIBALD GRACIE, a mustachioed blowhard who still has his brandy snifter. He offers it to Rose, who is hunched over crying on a bench nearby, but she waves it away Cal is more concerned with Jack. He grabs him by the lapels.
Cal, stop! It was an accident.
It was... stupid really. I was leaning over and
You wanted to see the propellers?
(shaking his head)
Women and machinery do not mix.
MASTER AT ARMS
Was that the way of it?
Oh, right. Mr. Lovejoy, A twenty should do it.
Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?
Rose is displeased. Mmm... what to do?
(looking straight at Rose)
Sure. Count me in.
Good. Settled then.
(as Lovejoy passes)
Can I bum a cigarette?
As she undresses for bed Rose sees Cal standing in her doorway, reflected in the cracked mirror of her vanity. He comes towards her.
Diamond. Yes it is. 56 carats.
The Heart of the Ocean. Cal, it's... it's
Without a cut the wrinkled, weathered landscape of age has appeared around her eyes. But the eyes themselves are the same.
Well, that's the general idea, my dear.
So let me get this right. You were gonna kill yourself
by jumping off the Titanic?
I'm afraid I'm feeling a little tired, Mr. Lovett.
As the big hydraulic jib swing one of the Mir subs out over the water. Lovett walks as he talks with Bobby Buell, the partner's rep. They weave among deck cranes, launch crew, sub maintenance guys.
Bobby, buy me time. I need time.
We're running thirty thousand a day, and we're six
days over. I'm telling you what they're telling me.
The hand is on the plug. It's starting to pull.
Well you tell the hand I need another two days!
Bobby, Bobby, Bobby... we're close! I smell it. I
smell ice. She had the diamond on... now we just
have to find out where it wound up. I just gotta work
her a bit more. Okay?
Don't you mean work me?
Look, I'm running out of time. I need your help.
I'm not going to help you browbeat my hundred and
one year old grandmother. I came down here to tell
you to back off.
(with undisguised desperation)
Lizzy... you gotta understand something. I've bet it
all to find the Heart of the Ocean. I've got all my
dough tied up in this thing. My wife even divorced me
over this hunt. I need what's locked inside your
(he holds out his hand)
You see this? Right here?
That's the shape hand's gonna be when I hold that
thing. You understand? I'm not leaving here without it.
Look, Brock, she's going to this her way, in her
own time. Don't forget, she contacted you. She's out
here for her own reasons, God knows what they are.
Maybe she wants to make peace with the past.
What past? She has never once, ever said a
word about being on the Titanic until two days ago.
Then we're all meeting your grandmother for the
(looks at him hard)
You think she was really there?
Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm a believer. She was there.
Bodine starts the tape recorder. Rose is gazing at the screen, seeing THE LIVE FEED FROM THE WRECK -- SNOOP DOG is moving along the starboard side of the hull, heading aft. The rectangular windows of A deck (forward) march past on the right.
Three boys, shrieking and shouting, are scrambling around chasing a rat under the benches, trying to whomp it with a shoe and causing general havoc. Jack is playing with 5 year old CORA CARTMELL, drawing funny faces together in his sketchbook.
Fabrizio is struggling to get a conversation going with an attractive Norwegian girl, HELGA DAHL, sitting with her family at a table across the room.
No, no. Norwegian. Only.
Rose, coming toward them. The activity in the room stops... a hush falls. Rose feels suddenly self-conscious as the steerage passengers stare openly at this princess, some with resentment, others with awe. She spots Jack and gives a little smile, walking straight to him. He rises to meet her, smiling.
Could I speak to you in private?
Uh, yes. Of course. After you.
Jack and Rose walk side by side. They pass people reading or talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glance curiously at the mismatched couple. He feels out of place in his rough clothes. The are both awkward, for different reasons.
Rose. Rose DeWitt Bukater.
That's quite a moniker. I may hafta get you to write
Jack... I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning
to get up the nerve to face you.
Well, here you are.
Here I am. I... I want to thank you for what you did.
Not just for... for pulling me back. But for your
You're welcome. Rose.
Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little
rich girl. What does she know about misery?
That's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking
was... what could have happened to hurt this girl so
much she thought she had no way out.
I don't... it wasn't just one thing. It was everything.
It was them, it was their whole world. And I was
trapped in it, like an insect in amber.
(in a rush)
I just had to get away... just run and run and run...
and then I was at the back rail and there was no more
ship... even the Titanic wasn't big enough. Not
enough to get away from them. And before I'd really
thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious.
I'll show them. They'll sure be sorry!
Uh huh. They'll be sorry. 'Course you'll be dead.
(she lowers her head)
Oh God, I am such an utter fool.
That penguin last night, is he one of them?
Penguin? Oh, Cal! He is them.
Is he your boyfriend?
Worse I'm afraid.
So don't marry him.
If only it were that simple.
It is that simple.
Oh, Jack... please don't judge me until you've seen
Well, I guess I will tonight.
Just some sketches.
Well, they didn't think too much of 'em in Paree.
Don't worry about it. Plenty more where they came
Yup. That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots
of girls willing to take their clothes off.
She had beautiful hands.
I thing you must have had a love affair with her...
No, no! Just with her hands.
(looking up from the drawings)
You have a gift, Jack. You do. You see people.
I see you.
You wouldn'ta jumped.
Ruth is having tea with NOEL LUCY MARTHA DYER-EDWARDES, the COUNTESS OF ROTHES, a 35ish English blue blood with patrician features. Ruth sees someone coming across the room and lowers her voice.
We're awfully sorry you missed it. The Countess and
I are just off to take the air on the boat deck.
That sounds great. Let's go. I need to catch up on the
No, but we're making excellent time.
Captain, the press knows the size of Titanic, let them
marvel at her speed too. We must give them something
new to print. And the maiden voyage of Titanic must
I prefer not to push the engines until they've been
properly run in.
Of course I leave it to your good offices to decide
what's best, but what a glorious end to your last
crossing if we get into New York Tuesday night
and surprise them all.
(Ismay slaps his hand on the table)
Retire with a bang, eh, E.J.?
Rose and Jack stroll aft, past people lounging on deck chairs in the slanting late-afternoon light. Stewards scurry to serve tea or hot coca.
You wouldn't last two days. Thereís no hot water,
and hardly ever any caviar.
(angry in a flash)
Listen, buster... I hate caviar! And I'm tired of people
dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the
I'm sorry. Really... I am.
Well, alright. There's something in me, Jack. I feel
it. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an
artist, or, I don't know... a dancer. Like Isadora
Duncan.. a wild pagan spirit...
DANIEL AND MARY MARVIN. Daniel is cranking the big wooden movie camera as she poses stiffly at the rail.
Marvin grins and starts yelling and gesturing. We see this in CUTS, with music and no dialogue.
SERIES OF CUTS:
Rose posing tragically at the rail, the back of her hand to her forehead.
Jack on a deck chair, pretending to be a Pasha, the two girls pantomiming fanning him like slave girls.
Jack, on his knees pleading with his hands clasped while Rose, standing, turns her head in bored disdain.
Rose cranking the camera, while Daniel and Jack have a western shoot-out. Jack wins and leers into the lens, twirling an air mustache like Snidely Whiplash.
Painted with orange light, Jack and rose lean on the A-deck rail aft, shoulder to shoulder. The ship's lights come on.
It is a magical moment... perfect.
Well, then logging got to be too much like work, so I
went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica.
That's a swell place, they even have a rollercoaster. I
sketched portraits there for ten cents a piece.
A whole ten cents?!
(not getting it)
Yeah; it was great money... I could make a dollar a
day, sometimes. But only in summer. When it got
cold, I decided to go to Paris and see what the real
artists were doing
(looks at the dusk sky)
Why can't I be like you, Jack> Just head out for the
horizon whenever I like it.
(turning to him)
Say we'll go there, sometime... to that pier... even it
we only ever just talk about it.
Alright, we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go
on the rollercoaster until we throw up and we'll ride
horses on the beach... right in the surf... but you have
to ride like a cowboy, none of that side-saddle stuff.
You mean one leg on each side? Scanalous! Can you
Sure. If you like.
(smiling at him)
I think I would.
(she looks at the horizon)
And teach me to spit too. Like a man. Why should
only men be able to spit. It's unfair.
They didn't teach you that in finishing school? Here,
it's easy. Watch closely.
RUTH, the Countess of Rothes, and Molly Brown have been watching them hawking lugees. Rose becomes instantly composed.
Charmed, I'm sure.
Well, Jack, it sounds like you're a good man to have
around in a sticky spot--
Shall we go dress, mother?
(over her shoulder)
See you at dinner, Jack.
(as they walk away)
Rose, look at you... out in the sun with no hat.
Well, you're about to go into the sankepit. I hope
you're ready. What are you planning to wear?
Men's suits and jackets and formal wear are strewn all over the place. Molly is having a fine tine. Jack is dressed, except for his jacket, and Molly is tying his bow tie.
A steward bows and smartly opens the door to the First Class Entrance.
Jack steps in and his breath is taken away by the splendor spread out before him. Overhead is the enormous glass dome, with a crystal chandelier at it's center. Sweeping down six stories is the First Class Grand Staircase, the epitome of the opulent naval architecture of the time.
And the people: the women in their floor length dresses, elaborate hairstyles and abundant jewelry... the gentlemen in evening dress, standing with one hand at the small of the back, talking quietly.
Jack descends to A deck. Several men nod a perfunctory greeting. He nods back, keeping it simple. He feels like a spy.
Cal comes down the stairs, with Ruth on his arm, covered in jewelry. They both walk right past Jack, neither one recognizing him. Cal nods at him, one gent to another. But Jack barely has time to be amused. Because just behind Cal and Ruth on the stairs is Rose, a vision in red and black, her low-cut dress showing off her neck and shoulders, her arms sheathed in white gloves that come well above the elbow. Jack is hypnotized by her beauty.
CLOSE ON ROSE, as she approaches Jack. He imitates the gentlemen's stance, hand behind his back. She extends her gloved hand and he takes it, kissing the backs of her fingers. Rose flushes, beaming noticeably. She can't take her eyes off him.
Cal, surly you remember Mr. Dawson.
(caught off guard)
Dawson! I didnít recognize you.
Amazing! You could almost pass for a gentleman.
CUT TO THE RECEPTION ROOM ON D DECK, as the party descends to dinner. They encounter Molly Brown, looking good in a beaded dress, in her own busty broad-shouldered way. Molly grins when she sees Jack. As they are going into the dining saloon she walks next to him, speaking low:
Yeah, you just dress like a pallbearer and keep your
Remember, the only thing they respect is money, so
just act like youíve got alot of it and youíre in the club.
As they enter the swirling throng, Rose leans close to him, pointing out several notables.
Calís a lucky man. I know him well, and it can only
(shaking his hand)
Good to meet you Jack. Are you of the Boston
No, the Chippewa Falls Dawsons, actually.
Like a ballroom at the palace, alive and lit by a constellation of chandeliers, full of elegantly dressed people and beautiful music from BANDLEADER WALLACE HARTLEYíS small orchestra. As Rose and Jack enter and move across the room to their table. Cal and Ruth beside them, we hear...
How do you take your caviar, sir?
(answering for him)
Just a soupcon of lemon...
(to Jack, smiling)
... it improves the flavor with champagne.
No caviar for me, thanks.
Never did like it much.
Well, right now my address is RMS Titanic. After
that, Iím on Godís good humor.
Well... itís a big world, and I want to see it all before I
go. My father was always talkiní about goiní to see
the ocean. He died in the town he was born in, and
never did see it. You canít wait around, because you
never know what hand youíre going to get dealt next.
See, my folks died in a fire when I was fifteen, and
Iíve been on the road since. Somthiní like that
teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make
each day count.
(raising his glass)
I work my way from place to place. Tramp steamers
and such. I won my ticket on Titanic in a lucky
hand at poker.
( he glances at Rose)
A very lucky hand.
All life is a game of luck.
A real man makes his own luck, Archie.
All three million of them.
His blood and soul are in this ship. She may be mine
on paper, but in the eyes of God she belongs to
Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews. Truly.
TIME TRANSITION: Dessert has been served and a waiter arrives with cigars in a humidor on a wheeled cart. The men start clipping ends and lighting.
Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?
Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and
congratulate each other on being masters of the
Joining us, Mr. Dawson? You donít want to stay out here
with the women, do you?
Probably best. Itíll be all business and politics, that
sort of thing. Wouldnít interest you. Good of you to
Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin.
INSERT: We see him slip a tiny folded note into her palm.
Ruth, scowling, watches him walk away across the enormous room. Rose surreptitiously opens the note below table level. It reads: ďMake it count. Meet me at the clockĒ.
INT. A-DECK FOYER - NIGHT
Rose crosses the A -Deck foyer, sighting Jack at the landing above. Overhead is the crystal dome. Jack has his back to her, studying the ornate clock with itís carved figures of Honor and Glory. It softly strikes the hour.
MOVING WITH ROSE as she goes up the sweeping staircase toward him. He turns, sees her... smiles.
Crowded and alive with music, laughter and raucous carrying on. An ad hoc band is gathered near the upright piano, honking out lively stomping music on fiddle, accordion and tambourine. People of all ages are dancing, drinking beer and wine, smoking, laughing, even brawling.
Tommy hands Rose a pint of stout and she hoists it. Jack meanwhile dances with 5 year old Cora Cartmell, or tries to, with her standing on his feet. As the tune ends, Rose leans down to the little girl.
You're still my best girl, Cora.
Just move with me. Don't think.
INT. THIRD CLASS GENERAL ROOM
The scene is rowdy and rollicking. A table gets knocked over as a drunk crashes into it. And in the middle of it... Rose dancing with Jack in her stocking feet. The steps are fast and she shines with sweat. A space opens around them, and people watch them, clapping as the band plays faster and faster.
FABRIZIO AND HELGA. Dancing has obviated the need for a common language. He whirls her, then she responds by whirling him... Fabrizio's eyes go wide when he realizes she's stronger than he is.
The tune ends in a mad rush. Jack steps away from Rose with a flourish, allowing her to take a bow. Exhilarated and slightly tipsy, she does a graceful ballet ployer, feet turned out perfectly. Everyone laughs and applauds. Rose is a hit with the steerage folks, who've never had a lady party with them.
They move to a table, flushed and sweaty. Rose grabs Fabrizio's cigarette and takes a big drag. She's feeling cocky. Fabrizio is grinning, holding hands with Helga.
I don't know what she's say, she don't know what I
say, so we get along fine.
THE DOOR to the well deck is open a few inches as Lovejoy watches through the gap. He sees Jack holding Rose, both of them laughing.
LOVEJOY closes the door.
The stars blaze overhead, so bright and clear you can see the Milky Way. Rose and Jack walk along the row of lifeboats. Still giddy from the party, they are singing a popular song "Come Josephine in My Flying Machine".
Uh huh. You got mailed to the wrong address.
I did, didn't I?
Look! A shooting star.
That was a long one. My father used to say that
whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven.
I like that. Aren't we supposed to wish on it?
SUNDAY APRIL 14, 1912. A bright clear day. Sunlight splashing across the promenade. Rose and Cal are having breakfast in silence. The tension is palpable. Trudy Bolt, in her maid's uniform, pours the coffee and goes inside.
I was tired.
Yes. Your exertions below decks were no doubt
I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow
You will never behave like that again! Do you
I'm not some foreman in your mills that you can
command! I am your fiancee--
Rose is dressed for the day, and is in the middle of helping Ruth with her corset. The tight bindings do not inhibit Ruth's fury at all.
Of course I know it's gone. You remind me every day!
Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts
hidden by a good name. And that name is the only
card we have to play.
(hurt and lost)
How can you put this on my shoulders?
It's so unfair.
Of course it's unfair! We're women. Our choices are
At the divine service, Captain Smith is leading a large group in the hymn "Almighty Father Strong To Save." Rose and Ruth sing in the middle of the group.
Lovejoy stands well back, keeping an eye on Rose. He notices a commotion at the entry doors. Jack has been halted there by two stewards. He is dressed in his third class clothes, and stands there, hat in hand, looking out of place.
I was just here last night... don't you remember?
(seeing Lovejoy coming toward him)
He'll tell you.
Mr. Hockley and Mrs. DeWitt Bukater continue to be
most appreciative of your assistance. They asked me
to give you this in gratitude--
-- and also to remind you that you hold a third class
ticket and your presence here is no longer appropriate
Gentlemen, please see that Mr. Dawson gets back
where he belongs.
(giving the twenties to the stewards)
And that he stays there.
Come along you.
Don't be absurd. I can't think of a skill I should likely
The next stop on our tour will be the bridge. This
Jack, walking with determination, is followed closely by Tommy and Fabrizio. He quickly climbs the steps to B-Deck and steps over the gate separating 3rd from 2nd class.
Amore is'a not logical.
HAROLD BRIDE, the 21 year old junior Wireless Operator, hustles in and skirts around Andrews' tour group to hand a Marconigram to Captain Smith.
FIRST OFFICER MURDOCH
Havn't seen them since Southampton.
Andrews leads the group back from the bridge along the boat deck.
About half, actually. Rose, you miss nothing, do
you? In fact, I put in these new type davits, which can
take an extra row of boats here.
(he gestures along the deck)
But it was thought... by some... that the deck would
look too cluttered. So I was over-ruled.
(slapping the side of a boat)
Waste of deck space as it is, on an unsinkable ship!
Sleep soundly, young Rose. I have built you a good
ship, strong and true. She's all the lifeboat you need.
Jack closes the door behind her, and glances out through the ripple-glass window to the starboard rail, where the gym instructor is chatting up the woman who was riding the bike. Rose and Jack are alone in the room.
No wait. Let me try to get this out. You're amazing...
and I know I have nothing to offer you, Rose. I know
that. But I'm involved now. You jump, I jump,
remember? I can't turn away without knowin' you're
going to be alright.
I don't think so. They've got you in a glass jar like
some butterfly, and you're goin' to die it you don't
break out. Maybe not right away, 'cause you're
strong. But sooner or later the fire in you is goin' to
It's not up to you to save me, Jack.
You're right. Only you can do that.
I have to go back, they'll miss me. Please, Jack, for
both our sakes, leave me alone.
The most elegant room on the ship, done in Louis Quinze Versaille style. Rose sits on a divan, with a group of other women arrayed around her. Ruth, the Countess Rothes and Lady Duff-Gordon are taking tea. Rose is silent and still as a porcelain figurine as the conversation washes around her.
REVERSE, ROSE'S POV: A tableau of MOTHER and DAUGHTER having tea. The four year old girl, wearing white gloves, daintily picking up a cookie. The mother correcting her on her posture, and the way she holds the teacup. The little girl trying so hard to please, her expression serious. A glimpse of Rose at that age, and we see the relentless conditioning... the path to becoming an Edwardian geisha.
ON ROSE. She calmly and deliberately turns her teacup over, spilling tea all over her dress.
TITANIC STEAMS TOWARD US, in the dusk sky, as if lit by the embers of a giant fire. As the ship looms, FILLING FRAME, we push on the bow. Jack is there, right at the apex of the bow railing, his favorite spot. He closes his eyes, letting the chill wind clear his head.
Jack hears her voice, behind him...
Sssshh. Come here.
Slowly he raises his hands, arms outstretched, and they meet hers... fingertips gently touching. Then their fingers intertwine. Moving slowly, their fingers caress through and around each other like the bodies of two lovers.
Jack tips his face forward into her blowing hair, letting the scent of her wash over him, until his cheek is against her ear.
Rose turns her head until her lips are near his. She lowers her arms, turning further, until she finds his mouth with hers. He wraps his arms around her from behind, and they kiss like this with her head turned and tilted back, surrendering to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. They kiss, slowly and tremulously, and then with building passion.
Jack and the ship seem to merge into one force of power and optimism, lifting her, buoying her forward on a magical journey, soaring onward into a night without fear.
IN THE CROW'S NEST, high above and behind them, lookout FREDERICK FLEET nudges his mate, REGINALD LEE, pointing down at the figures in the bow.
OLD ROSE blinks, seeming to come back to the present. She sees the wreck on the screen, the sad ghost ship deep in the abyss.
Don't you love it? There's Smith, he's standing there
with the iceberg warning in his fucking hand...
... excuse me... in his hand, and he's ordering more
26 years of experience working against him. He
figures anything big enough to sink the ship they're
going to see it in time to turn. But the ship's too big,
with too small a rudder... it can't corner worth shit.
Everything he knows is wrong.
... 1912. Like in a dream the beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery emerge from the rusted ruin. Jack is overwhelmed by the opulence of the room. He sets his sketchbook and drawing materials on the marble table.
(bad French accent)
Zat is true, I am not used to working in such 'orreeble
(seeing the paintings)
Should I be expecting him anytime soon?
Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out.
A diamond. A very rare diamond, called the Heart of
ROSE'S BEDROOM. ON THE BUTTERFLY COMB as Rose draws it out of her hair. She shakes her head and her hair falls free around her shoulders.
IN THE SITTING ROOM Jack is laying out his pencils like surgical tools. His sketchbook is open and ready. He looks up as she comes into the room, wearing a silk kimono.
Jack looks so stricken, it is almost comical. The kimono drops to the floor (this is all in cuts, lyrical).
He does landscapes.
Despite his nervousness, he draws with sure strokes, and what emerges is the best thing he has ever done. Her pose is languid, her hands beautiful, and her eyes radiate her energy.
PUSH SLOWLY IN ON ROSE'S FACE...
MATCH DISSOLVE/MORPH to Rose, 101 years old. Only her eyes are the same.
You mean, did we "do it"?
BACK TO 1912. Jack is signing the drawing. Rose, wearing her kimono again, is leaning on his shoulder, watching.
She puts the diamond back in the safe, placing the drawing and the note on top of it. Closes the door with a CLUNK!
Lovejoy enters from the Palm Court through the revolving door and crosses the room toward Hockley. A fire is blazing in the marble fireplace, and the usual fatcats are playing cards, drinking and talking. Cal sees Lovejoy and detaches from his group, coming to him.
(low but forceful)
This is ridiculous, Lovejoy. Find her.
TITANIC glides across an unnatural sea, black and calm as a pool of oil. The ships lights are mirrored almost perfectly in the black water. The sky is brilliant with stars. A meteor traces a bright line across the heavens.
ON THE BRIDGE, Captain Smith peers out at the blackness ahead of the ship. QUARTERMASTER HICHENS brings him a cup of hot tea with lemon. It steams in the bitter cold of the open bridge. Second Officer Lightoller is next to him, staring out at the sheet of black glass the Atlantic has become.
Yes, like a mill pond. Not a breath of wind.
It'll make the bergs harder to see, with no breaking
water at the base.
Mmmmm. Well, I'm off. Maintain speed and
heading, Mr. Lightoller.
And wake me, of course, if anything becomes in the
slightest degree doubtful.
Rose, fully dressed now, returns to the sitting room. They hear a key in the lock. Rose takes Jacks hand and leads him silently through the bedrooms. Lovejoy enters by the sitting room door.
Rose and Jack come out of her stateroom, closing the door. She leads him quickly along the corridor toward the B deck foyer. They are halfway across the open space when the sitting room door opens in the corridor and Lovejoy comes out. The valet sees Jack with Rose and hustles after them.
Lovejoy emerges from another lift and runs to the one Jack and Rose were in. The Operator is just closing the gate to go back up. Lovejoy runs around the bank of elevators and scans the foyer... no Jack and Rose. He tries the stairs going down to F-Deck.
A functional space, with access to a number of machine spaces (fan rooms, boiler uptakes). Jack and Rose are leaning against the wall, laughing.
He's an ex-Pinkerton. Cal's father hired him to keep
Cal out of trouble... to make sure he always got back
to the hotel with his wallet and watch, after some crawl
through the less reputable parts of town...
Kinda like what we're doin' right now-- uh oh!
They enter a roaring FAN ROOM, with no way out but a ladder going down. Jack latches the deadbolt on the door, and Lovejoy slams against it a moment later. Jack grins at Rose, pointing to the ladder.
Jack and Rose come down the escape ladder and look around in amazement, It is like a vision of hell itself, with the roaring furnaces and black figures moving in the smoking glow. They run the length of the boiler room, dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal.
Amid unparalleled luxury, Cal sits at a card game, sipping brandy.
INT. BOILER ROOM SIX
The furnaces roar, silhouetting the glistening stokers. JACK kisses Rose's face, tasting the sweat trickling down from her forehead. They kiss passionately in the steamy, pounding darkness.
Jack and Rose enter and run laughing between the rows of stacked cargo. She hugs herself against the cold, after the dripping heat of the boiler room.
They come upon William Carter's brand new RENAULT touring car, lashed down to a pallet. It looks like a royal coach from a fairy tale, it's brass trim and headlamps nicely set off by it's deep burgundy color.
Rose climbs into the plushly upholstered back seat, acting very royal. There are cut crystal bud vases on the walls back there, each containing a rose. Jack jumps into the driver's seat, enjoying the feel of the leather and wood.
To the stars.
Au contraire, mon cher.
A BRILLIANT ARC OF ELECTRICITY fills frame-- the spark gap of the Marconi instrument as SENIOR WIRELESS OPERATOR JACK PHILLIPS (24) rapidly keys out a message. Junior Operator Bride looks through the huge stack of outgoing messages swamping them.
Wireless Operator CYRIL EVANS pulls his earphone off his ear as the Titanic's spark deafens him. He translates the message for THIRD OFFICER GROVES.
Now what's he sending?
"No seasickness. Poker business good. Al". Well
thatís it for me. I'm shutting down.
ON TITANIC, steaming hell-bent through the darkness, hurling up white water at the bows. The bow comes straight at us, until the bow wave WIPES THE FRAME--
INSIDE THE CAR, Jack's overcoat is a blanket over them. It stirs and Rose pulls it down. They are huddled under it, intertwined, still mostly clothed. Their faces are flushed and they look at each other wonderingly. She puts her hand on his face, as if making sure he is real.
It's okay. I'm alright.
The bow sweeps under us, and the CAMERA CLIMBS toward the foremast and the tiny half-cylinder of the crow's nest, which grows as we push in on lookouts Fleet and Lee. They are stamping their feet and swinging their arms, trying to keep warm in the 22 knot freezing wind, which whips the vapor of their breath away behind.
Well I can.
Without hearing the words over the roar of the furnaces, we see stokers telling TWO STEWARDS which way Rose and Jack went. The stewards move off toward the forward holds.
Cal stands at the open safe. He stares at the drawing of Rose and his face clenches with fury. He reads the note again: "DARLING, NOW YOU CAN KEEP US BOTH LOCKED IN YOUR SAFE. ROSE"
Lovejoy, standing behind him, looks over his shoulder at the drawing. Cal crumples Rose's note, then takes the drawing in both hands as if to rip it in half. He tenses to do it, then stops himself.
The two stewards enter. They have electric torches and play the beams around the hold. They spot the Renault with its fogged up rear window and approach it slowly.
FROM INSIDE we see the torch light up Rose's passionate handprint, still there on the fogged up glass. One steward whips open the door.
Rose and Jack, fully dressed, come through a crew door onto deck. They can barely stand. they are laughing so hard.
UP ABOVE THEM, IN THE CROW'S NEST, lookout Fleet hears the disturbance below and looks around and back down to the well deck, where he can see two figures embracing.
Jack and Rose stand in each others arms. Their breath clouds around them in the now freezing air, but they don't even feel the cold.
This is crazy.
I know. It doesn't make any sense. That's why I
IN THE CROW'S NEST Fleet nudges Lee.
They're a bloody sight warmer than we are.
Well if that's what it takes for us two to get warm, I'd
rather not, if it's all the same.
FLEET'S POV: a massive iceberg right in their path, 500 yards out.
Inside the enclosed wheelhouse, SIXTH OFFICER MOODY walks unhurriedly to the telephone, picking it up.
Yes. What did you see?
Iceberg right ahead!
(hangs up, calls to Murdoch)
Iceberg right ahead!
(standing behind Hichens)
Hard 'a starboard. The helm is hard
IN BOILER ROOM SIX, leading stoker FREDERICK BARRETT is standing with 2nd Engineer JAMES HESKETH when the red warning light and "STOP" indicator come on.
MURDOCH'S jaw clenches as the bow turns with agonizing slowness. He holds his breath as the horrible physics play out.
IN THE CROW'S NEXT Frederick Fleet braces himself.
THE BOW OF THE SHIP thunders right at the CAMERA and--
KRUUUNCH!! The ship hits the berg on it's starboard bow.
UNDERWATER we see the ice smashing in the steel hull plates. The iceberg bumps and scrapes along the side of the ship. Rivets pop as the steel plate of the hull flexes under the load.
IN #2 HOLD the two stewards stagger as the hull buckles in four feet with a sound like THUNDER. Like a sledgehammer beating them off their feet. The icy water swirls around the Renault as the men scramble for the stairs.
ON G-DECK forward Fabrizio is tosses from his bunk by the impact. He hears a sound like the greatly amplified squeal of a skate on ice.
IN BOILER ROOM SIX Barrett and Hesketh stagger as they hear the ROLLING THUNDER of the collision. They see the starboard side of the ship buckle in toward them and are almost swept off their feet by a rush of water coming in about two feet above the floor.
ON THE FORWARD WELL DECK Jack and Rose break their kiss and look up in astonishment as the berg sails past, blocking out the sky like a mountain. Fragments break off it and crash down onto the deck, and they have to jump back to avoid flying chunks of ice.
ON THE BRIDGE Murdoch rings the watertight door alarm. He quickly throws the switch that closes them.
BARRETT AND HESKETH hear the DOOR ALARM and scramble through the swirling water to the watertight door between Boiler Rooms 6 and 5. The room is full of water vapor as the cold sea strikes the red hot furnaces. Barrett yells to the stokers scrambling through the door as it comes down like a slow guillotine.
JACK AND ROSE rush to the starboard rail in time to see the berg moving aft down the side of the ship.
In his stateroom, surrounded by piles of plans while making notes in his ever-present book, Andrews looks up at the sound of a cut-crystal light fixture tinkling like a windchime.
He feels the shudder run through the ship. And we see it in his face. Too much of his soul is in this great ship for him not to feel its mortal wound.
IN THE FIRST CLASS SMOKING ROOM Gracie watches his highball vibrating on the table.
IN THE PALM COURT, with it's high arched windows, Molly Brown holds up her drink to a passing waiter.
IN THE CROW'S NEST Fleet turns to Lee...
Smell ice can you? Bleedin' Christ!
CLOSE ON MURDOCH. The alarm bells still clatter mindlessly, seeming to reflect his inner state. He is in shock, unable to get a grip on what just happened. He just ran the biggest ship in history into an iceberg on it's maiden voyage.
An iceberg, sir. I put her hard 'a starboard and run
the engines full astern, but it was too close. I tried to
port around it, but she hit.. and I--
Close the emergency doors.
The doors are closed.
In steerage, Fabrizio comes out into the hall to see whatís going on. He sees dozens of rats running by.
A couple of people have come out into the corridor in robes and slippers. A STEWARD hurries along, reassuring them.
I shouldn't worry, m'am. We've likely thrown a
propeller blade, that's the shudder you felt. May I
bring you anything?
Jack and Rose are leaning over the starboard rail, looking at the hull of the ship.
Could it have damaged the ship?
It didn't seem like much of a bump. I'm sure we're
Fabrizio and Tommy are in a crowd of steerage men clogging the corridors, heading aft away from the flooding. Many of them have grabbed suitcases and duffel bags, some of which are soaked.
Bruce Ismay, dressed in pajamas under a topcoat, hurries down the corridor, headed for the bridge. An officious steward named BARNES comes along the other direction, getting the few concerned passengers back into their rooms.
Yes there is, I've been robbed. Now get the Master at
Arms. Now, you moron!
He turns to Andrews, standing behind him.
We've struck ice.
Well, do you think the ship is seriously damaged?
Stokers and firemen are struggling to draw the fires. They are working in waist deep water churning around them as it flows into the boiler room, ice cold and swirling with grease from the machinery. Chief Engineer Bell comes partway down the ladder and shouts.
The gentleman, now joined by another man, leans on the forward rail watching the steerage men playing soccer with chunks of ice.
A moment later Captain Smith rounds the corner, followed by Andrews and Carpenter Hutchinson. They have come down from the bridge by outside stairs. The three men, their faces grim, brush right past Jack and Rose. Andrews barely glances at her.
Not unless the pumps get ahead.
We have to tell Mother and Cal.
Now it's worse.
Come with me, Jack. I jump, you jump... right?
Cal and Ruth wait in the sitting room, along with the Master at Arms and two stewards (Steward #1 and Barnes). Silence as Rose and Jack enter. Ruth closes her robe at her throat when she sees Jack.
That's right. Two things very dear to me have disappeared
this evening. Now that one is back...
(he looks from Rose to Jack)
... I have a pretty good idea where to find the other.
(to Master at Arms)
Cal, you can't be serious! We're in the middle of an
emergency and you--
MASTER AT ARMS
Right then. Now don't make a fuss.
He couldn't have.
Of course he could. Easy enough for a professional.
He memorized the combination when you opened the
(just to her, low and cold)
Maybe he did it while you were putting your clothes
They put it in my pocket!
(holding Jack's coat)
It's not even your pocket, son.
"Property of A.L. Reyerson".
I was going to return it! Rose--
Smith and Andrews come down the steps to the mail sorting room and find the clerks scrambling to pull mail from the racks. They are furiously hauling wet sacks of mail up from the hold below.
Andrews climbs partway down the stairs to the hold, which is almost full. Sacks of mail float everywhere. The lights are still on below the surface, casting an eerie glow. The Renault is visible under the water,. the brass glinting cheerfully. Andrews looks down as the water covers his shoe, and scrambles back up the stairs.
Andrews unrolls a big drawing of the ship across the chartroom table. It is a side elevation, showing all the watertight bulkheads. His hands are shaking. Murdoch and Ismay hover behind Andrews and the Captain.
Five compartments. She can stay afloat with the first
four compartments breached. But not five. Not five.
As she goes down by the head the water will spill over
the tops of the bulkheads... at E Deck... from one to
the next... back and back. There's no stopping it.
The pumps will buy you time... but minutes only. From
this moment, no matter what we do, Titanic will founder.
But this ship can't sink!
She is made of iron, sir. I assure you, she can. And
she will. It is a mathematical certainty.
An hour, two at most.
Two thousand two hundred souls aboard, sir.
Andrews is standing along the boat deck, as seamen and officers scurry to uncover the boats. Steam is venting from the pipes in the funnels overhead, and the din is horrendous. Speech is difficult adding to the crew's level of disorganization. Andrews sees some men fumbling with the mechanism of one of the Wellin davits and yells to them over the roar of steam.
No sir! Not with these new davits, sir.
From inside the sitting room they can here knocking and voices in the corridor.
Get out. We're busy.
This is ridiculous.
BLACKNESS. Then BANG! The door is thrown open and the light snapped on by a steward. The Cartmell family rouses from a sound sleep.
ON PHILLIPS, looking shocked.
That's right. The distress Cal. CQD. Tell whoever
responds that we are going down by the head and need
Maybe you ought to try sending that new distress call...
It may be our only chance to use it.
Thomas Andrews looks around in amazement. The deck is empty except for the crew fumbling with the davits. He yells over the roar of the steam to First Officer Murdoch.
They've all gone back inside. Too damn cold and
noisy for them.
A large number of First Class passengers have gathered near the staircase. They are getting indigent about the confusion. Molly Brown snags a passing YOUNG STEWARD.
Hockley's entourage comes up to the A-deck foyer. Cal is carrying the lifebelts, almost as an afterthought. Rose is like a sleepwalker.
There's no need for language, Mr. Hockley.
Go back and turn the heater on in my room, so it
won't be too cold when we get back.
The ship will sink.
Yes. In an hour or so.. all this.. will be at the
bottom of the Atlantic.
Yes, I understand. Thankyou.
Lovejoy and the Master at Arms are handcuffing Jack to a 4" WATER PIPE as a crewman
rushes in anxiously and almost blurts to the Master at Arms...
Go on. I'll keep an eye on him.
Junior Wireless Operator Bride is relaying a message to Captain Smith from the CUNARD LINER CARPATHIA.
And she's the only one who's responding?
The only one close, sir. She says she can be here in
Lightoller has his boats swung out. He is standing amidst a crowd of uncertain passengers in all states of dress and undress. One first class woman is barefoot. Others are in stockings. The maitre of the restaurant is in top hat and overcoat. Others are still in evening dress, while some are in bathrobes and kimonos. Women are wearing lifebelts over velvet gowns, then topping it with sable stoles. Some brought jewels, others books, even small dogs.
Lightoller sees Smith walking stiffly toward him and quickly goes to him. He yells into the Captain's ear, through cupped hands, over the roar of the steam...
ON WALLACE HARTLEY raising his violin to play.
It is chaos, with stewards pushing their way through narrow corridors clogged with people Carrying suitcases, duffel bags, children. Some have lifebelts on, others don't.
Fabrizio and Tommy push past the stewards, going the other way. They reach a huge crowd gathered at the bottom of the MAIN 3RD CLASS STAIRWELL. Fabrizio spots Helga with the rest of the Dahl family, standing patiently with suitcases in hand. He reached her and she grins, hugging him.
Tommy pushes to where he can see what's holding up the group. There is a steel gate across the top of the stairs, with several stewards and seamen on the other side.
We're just waiting, dear. When they finish putting
First Class people in the boats, they'll be startin' with
us, and we'll want to be all ready, won't we?
Boat 7 is less than half full, with 28 aboard a boat made for 65.
TRACKING along the rows of portholes angling down into the water. Under the surface, they glow green. Pushing in on one porthole which is half submerged. Inside we see Jack, looking apprehensively at the water rising up the glass.
INSIDE THE MASTER AT ARMS' OFFICE Jack sits chained to the waterpipe, next to the porthole. Lovejoy sits on the edge of a desk. He puts a .45 bullet on the desk and watches it roll across and fall off. He picks up the bullet.
At the stairwell rail on the bridge wing, Fourth Officer Boxhall and Quartermaster Rowe light the first distress rocket. It shoots into the sky and EXPLODES with a thunderclap over the ship, sending out white starbursts which light up the entire deck as they fall.
WHIP PAN off the starbursts to Ismay. The Managing Director of White Star Line is cracking. Already at the breaking point from his immense guilt, the rocket panics him. He starts shouting a the officers struggling with the falls of BOAT 5.
Do you know who I am?
(numbly, backing away)
Yes, quite right. Sorry.
SECOND OFFICER LIGHTOLLER is loading the boat nearest Cal and Rose... Boat 6.
DANIEL MARVIN has his Biograph camera set up, cranking away... hoping to get an exposure off the rocket's light. He was Mary posed in front of the scene at the boats.
ROSE watches the farewells taking place right in front of her as they step closer to the boat. Husbands saying goodbye to wives and children. Lovers and friends parted. Nearby MOLLY is getting a reluctant woman to board the boat.
Will the lifeboats be seated according to class? I hope
they're not too crowded--
Oh, Mother shut up!
(Ruth freezes, mouth open)
Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there
aren't enough boats... not enough for half. Half on the
people on this ship are going to die.
Not the better half.
Come on Ruth, get in the boat. These are the first
class seats right up here. That's it.
I'd rather be his whore than your wife.
Stuff a sock in it, would ya, Ruth. She'll be along.
TRACKING WITH ROSE, as she runs through the clusters of people. She looks back and a furious Cal is coming after her. She runs breathlessly up to two proper looking men.
Cal breaks free and runs after her. He reaches the entrance, but runs into a knot of people coming out. He pushes rudely through them...
Cal runs in, and down the landing, pushing past the gentlemen and ladies who are filing up the stairs. He scans the A-Deck foyer. Rose is gone.
Ain't you boys ever rowed before? Here, gimme
those oars. I'll show ya how it's done.
Around them the evacuation is in full swing, with the boats in the water, others being lowered.
Jack pulls on the pipe with all his strength. It's not budging. He hears a gurgling sound. Water pours under the door, spreading rapidly across the floor.
What? You have to get to a boat right away!
No! I'll do this with or without your help, sir. But
without will take longer.
Take the elevator to the very bottom, go left down the
crewman's passage, then make a right.
Bottom, left, right. I have it.
Rose run up as the last Elevator Operator is closing up his lift to leave.
Molly and the two seamen are rowing, and they've made it a hundred feet or so. Enough to see that the ship is angled down into the water, with the bow rail less than ten feet above the surface.
The car has landed in a foot of freezing water, shocking the hell out of her. She claws the door open and splashes out, hiking up her floor-length skirt so she can move. The lift goes back up, behind her, as she looks around.
Jack is hopelessly pulling on the pipe again, straining until he turns red. He collapses back on the bench, realizing heís screwed. Then he hears her through the door.
She splashes over to Jack and puts her arms around him.
I know, I know.
See if you can find a key for these. Try those
drawers. Itís a little brass one.
(she looks at him)
I just realized I already knew.
A LIFEBOAT hits the surface of the water, seen from below.
While the seamen detach the falls, Boat one rocks next to the hull. Lucille and Sir Cosmo Duff-Gordon sit with ten others in a boat made for four times that many.
Rose stops trashing the room, and stands there, breathing hard.
Iíll be right back.
Iíll wait here.
Rose splashes down the hall to a stairwell going up to the next deck. She climbs the stairs, her long skirt leaving a trail like a giant snail. The weight of it is really slowing her down. She rips at the buttons and shimmies quickly out of the thing. She bounds up the stairs in her stockings and knee-length slip, to find herself in--
A LONG CORRIDOR... part of the labyrinth of steerage hallways forward. She is alone here. A long groan of stresses metal echoes along the hall, unimpeded now.
The lights flicker and go out, leaving her in utter darkness. A beat. Then they come back on. She finds herself hyperventilating. That one moment of blackness was the most terrifying of her life.
A steward runs around the nearest corner, his arms full of lifebelts. He is upset to see someone still in his section. He grabs her forcefully by the arm, pulling her with him like a wayward child.
Wait. Wait! I need your help! Thereís-
No need to panic, miss. Come along!
No, let me go! Youíre going the wrong way!
She SHOUTS in his ear, and when he turns, she punches him squarely in the nose. Shocked, he lets her go and staggers back.
See you there, buster!
She turns around, SEES: a glass case with a fire-axe in it. She breaks the glass with a battered suitcase which is lying discarded nearby, and seizes the axe, running back the way she came.
AT THE STAIRWELL she looks down and gasps. The water has flooded the bottom five steps. She goes down and has to crouch to look along the corridor to the room where Jack is trapped.
Rose plunges into the water, which is up to her waist... and powers forward, holding the axe above her head in two hands. She grimaces at the pain from the literally freezing water.
Jack has climbed up on the bench, and is hugging the waterpipe. Rose wades in, holding the axe above her head.
Weíll find out.
The axe comes down . K-WHANG! Rose gingerly opens her eyes and looks... Jack is grinning with two separated cuffs.
Rose drops the, all the strength going out of her.
TITANIC ON THE LETTERS TITANIC painted two feet high on the bow of the doomed steamer. Once 50 feet above the waterline, they now quietly slip below the surface. We see them, gold on black, rippling and dimming to a pale green as they go deeper.
IN BOAT SIX, Ruth looks back at the Titanic, transfixed by the sight of the dying liner. The bowsprit is now barely above the waterline. Another of Boxhallís rockets EXPLODES overhead. K-BOOM! It lights up the whole area, and we see half a dozen boats in the water , spreading out from the ship.
The widest passageway in the ship, it is used by crew and steerage alike, and runs almost the length of the ship. Right now steerage passengers move along it like refugees, heading aft.
CRASH! A wooden doorframe splinters and the door bursts open under the force of Jacks shoulder. Jack and Rose stumble through, into the corridor. A STEWARD, who was nearby herding people along, marches over.
JACK AND ROSE
AN IRISH WOMAN gives Rose a blanket, more for modesty than because she is blue-lipped and shivering.
ON THE BOAT DECK, the action has moved to the aft group of boats, numbers 9, 11, 13, and 15 on the starboard side, and 10, 12, 14 and 16 on the port side. The pace of work is more frantic. You see crew and officers running now to work the davits, their previous complacency gone.
CAL pushes through the crowd, scanning for Rose. Around him is chaos and confusion. A woman is calling for a child who has become separated in the crowd. A man is shouting over people's heads. A woman takes hold of Second Officer Lightoller's arm as he is about to launch Boat 10.
(pointing down at the water)
There, look... twenty or so in a boat built for sixty five.
And I saw one boat with only twelve. Twelve!
Well... we were not sure of the weight--
Rubbish! They were tested in Belfast with the weight
of 70 men. Now fill these boats, Mr. Lightoller. For
God's sake, man!
We're running out of time. And this strutting
... isn't letting any men in at all.
The one on the other side is letting men in.
Then that's out play. But we're still going to need
(he starts off forward)
No. We've been together for forty years, and where
you go I go. Don't argue with me, Isador, you know
it does no good.
AT THE BOW... the place where Jack and Rose first kissed... the bow railing goes under water. Water swirls around the capstans and windlasses on the foc'sel deck.
Smith strides to the bridge rail and looks down at the well deck. Water is shipping over the sides and the well deck is awash. Two men run across the deck, their feet sending up spray. Behind Smith, Boxhall fires another rocket. WHOOSH!
INT. E-DECK CORRIDORS AND STAIRWELL
Fabrizio, standing with Helga Dahl and her family, hears Jack's voice.
We gotta get up there or we're gonna be gargling
saltwater. Where's Tommy?
TOMMY has his hands on the bars of the steel gate which blocks the head of the stairwell. The crew open the gate a foot or so and a few women are squeezing through.
Well, whatever we're goin' to do, we better do it fast.
INT. CAL AND ROSE'S SUITE
CLUNK! Cal opens his safe and reaches inside. As Lovejoy watches, he pulls out two stacks of bills, still banded by bank wrappers. Then he takes out the "Heart of the Sea", putting it in the left pocket of his overcoat, and locks the safe.
(patting the .45 in his waistband)
So do I.
Jack, Rose, Fabrizio and Tommy are lost, searching for a way out. They push past confused passengers... past a mother changing her babyís diaper on top of an upturned steamer trunk... past a woman arguing heatedly with a man in Serbo-Croatian, a wailing child next to them... past a man kneeling to console a woman who is just sitting on the floor, sobbing... and past another man with an English/ Arabic dictionary, trying to figure out what the signs mean, while his wife and children wait patiently.
Jack et al come upon a narrow stairwell and they go up two decks before they are stopped by a small group pressed up against a steel gate. The steerage men are yelling at a scared STEWARD.
Ruth rows with Molly Brown, two other women and the incompetent sailors. She rests on her oars, exhausted, and looks back at the ship.
It slants down into the water, still ablaze with light. Nothing is above water forward of the bridge except the foremast. Another rocket goes off, lighting up the entire area... there are a dozen boats moving outward from the ship.
AT THE BOAT DECK RAIL Captain Smith is shouting to Boat 6 through a large metal megaphone.
FROM BOAT 6 the whistle come shrilly across the water. Quartermaster Hichens grips the rudder in fear.
We got room for lots more. I say we go back.
No! It's our lives now, not theirs. And I'm in charge
of this boat! Now row!!
As Cal and Lovejoy cross the foyer they encounter Benjamin Guggenheim and his valet, both are dressed in white tie, tail coats and top hats.
We have dressed in our best and are prepared to go
down like gentlemen.
That's admirable, Ben.
I'll be sure to tell your wife... when I get to
There are still two cardgames in progress. The room is quiet and civilized. A silver serving cart, holding a large humidor, begins to roll slowly across the room. One of the cardplayers takes a cigar from it as it rolls by.
Cal and Lovejoy are walking aft with a purposeful stride. They pass CHIEF BAKER JOUGHIN, who is working up a sweat tossing deck chairs over the rail. After they go by, Joughin takes a break and pulls a bottle of scotch from a pocket, upending it. He drains it, and tosses it over the side too, then stands there a little unsteadily.
PANIC IS SETTING IN around the remaining boats aft. The crowd here is now a mix of all three classes. Officers repeatedly warn men back from the boats. The crowd presses in closer.
Seaman SCARROTT brandishes the tiller of boat 14 to discourage a close press of men who look ready to rush the boat. Several men break ranks and rush forward.
Lightoller pulls out his Webley revolver and aims it at them.
CAL AND LOVEJOY arrive in time to see Murdoch lowering his last boat.
There are still some boats forward. Stay with this
one... Murdoch. He seems quite... practical.
The passengers shout in panic to the crew above to stop lowering. They are ignored. Some men put their hands up, trying futiley to keep the 5 tons of boat 15 from crushing them.
Fred Barrett, the stoker, gets out his knife and leaps to the after falls, climbing rudely over people. He cuts the aft falls while another crewman cuts the forward lines. 13 drifts out from beneath 15 just seconds before it touches the water with a slap.
CAL, looking down from the rail hears GUNSHOTS--
Fifth Officer Lowe, in boat 14 is firing his gun as a warning to a bunch of men threatening to jump into the boat as it passes the open promenade on A-Deck.
The shots echo away.
Cal sees Murdoch turn from the davits for boat 15 and start walking toward the bow. He catches up and falls in beside him.
EXT. BOAT DECK, PORT
Jack, Rose et al burst out onto the boat deck from the crew stairs just aft of the third funnel. They look at the empty davits.
(staring at her bedraggled state)
Yes, miss... there are still a couple of boats all the way
forward. This way, I'll lead you!
ANGLE ON THE BAND... incredibly they are still playing. Jack, Rose and the others run by.
Water pours like a spillway over the forward railing on B-Deck. CAMERA SWEEPS UP past A-Deck to the boat deck where Murdoch and his team are loading Collapsible C at the forward-most davits.
NOTE: There are four so-called collapsibles, or Engelhardt boats, including two which are stored on the roof of the officers quarters.
The crowd here is sparse, with most people still aft. Cal slips his hand out of the pocket of his overcoat and into the waist pocket of Murdoch's greatcoat, leaving the stacks of bills there.
As you've said.
Women and children? Any more women and children?
(glancing at Cal)
Any one else, then?
Bruce Ismay, seeing his opportunity, steps quickly into Collapsible C. He stares straight ahead, not meeting Murdoch's eyes.
ON THE PORT SIDE Lightoller is getting people into boat 2. He keeps his pistol in his hand at this point. Twenty feet below them the sea is pouring into the doors and windows of B deck staterooms. They can hear the roar cascading into the ship.
Get in the boat, Rose.
Go on. I'll get the next one.
No. Not without you!
(he smiles reassuringly)
I'll be alright. Hurry up so we can get going... we got
our own boat to catch.
Get in... hurry up, it's almost full.
Almost as good as you.
I always win, Jack. One way or another.
(looks at him, smiling)
Pity I didn't keep that drawing. It's going to be worth
a lot more by morning.
ROSE'S PERCEPTION... IN SLOW MOTION: The ropes going through the pulleys as the seamen start to lower. All sound going away... Lightoller giving orders, his lips moving... but Rose hears only the blood pounding in her ears... this cannot be happening... a rocket bursts above in slow motion, outlining Jack in a halo of light... Rose's hair blowing in slow motion as she gazes up at him, descending away from him... she sees his hand trembling, the tears at the corners of his eyes, and cannot believe the unbearable pain she is feeling..
Rose is still staring up, tears pouring down her face.
SUDDENLY SHE IS MOVING. She lunges across the women next to her. Reaches the gunwale, climbing it...
Hurls herself out of the boat to the rail of the A-Deck promenade, catching it, and scrambling over the rail. The Boat 2 continues down. But Rose is back on Titanic.
Hockley too has seen her jump. She is willing to die for this man, this gutter scum. He is overwhelmed by a rage so all consuming it eclipses all thought.
TRACKING WITH JACK as he bangs through the doors to the foyer and sprints down the stairs. He sees her come into the A-Deck foyer, running toward him, Cal's long coat flying out behind her as she runs.
They meet at the bottom of the stairs, and collide in an embrace.
He RUNS along the rail and down the stairs. As he reaches the landing above them he raises the gun. SCREAMING in rage, he FIRES.
The carved cherub at the foot of the center railing EXPLODES. Jack pulls Rose toward the stairs going down to the next deck. Cal fires again, running down the steps toward them. A bullet blows a divet out of the oak paneling behind Jack's head as he pulls Rose down the next flight of stairs.
Hockley steps on the skittering head of the cherub statue and goes sprawling. The gun clatters across the marble floor. He gets up, and reeling drunkenly goes over to retrieve it.
The bottom of the grand staircase is flooded several feet deep. Jack and Rose come down the stairs two at a time and run straight into the water, fording across the room to where the floor slopes up, until they reach dry footing at the entrance to the dining saloon.
STEADICAM WITH HOCKLEY as he reels down the stairs in time to see Jack and Rose splashing through the water toward the dining saloon. He FIRES twice. Big gouts of spray near them, but he's not a great shot.
The water boils up around his feet and he retreats up the stairs a couple of steps. Around him the woodwork groans and creaks.
I put the diamond in my coat pocket.
And I put my coat... on her.
Lovejoy moves among the tables and ornate columns, searching... listening... his eyes tracking rapidly. It is a sea of tables, and they could be anywhere. A silver serving trolley rolls downhill, bumping into tables and pillars.
He glances behind him. The water is following him into the room, advancing in a hundred foot wide tide. The reception room is now a rolling lake, and the grand staircase is submerged past the first landing. Monstrous groans echo through the ship.
ON JACK AND ROSE, crouched behind a table, somewhere in the middle. They see the water advancing toward them, swirling over the floor. They crawl ahead of it to the next row of tables.
Lovejoy moves over one row and looks along the tables. Nothing.
The ship GROANS and CREAKS. He moves another row.
ANGLE ON A METAL CART... five feet tall and full of stacks of china dishes. It starts to roll down the aisle between tables.
ON ROSE as the cart rolls toward her. It hits a table and the stacks of dishes topple out, EXPLODING across the floor and showering her.
She scrambles out of the way and--
Lovejoy spins, seeing her. He moves rapidly toward her, keeping the gun aimed--
That's when Jack tackles him from the side. They slam together into a table, crashing over it, and toppling to the floor. They land in the water which is flowing rapidly between the tables.
Jack and Lovejoy grapple in the icy water. Jack jams his knee down on Lovejoy's hand, breaking his grip on the pistol, and kicks it away. Lovejoy scrambles up and lunges at him, but Jack GUTPUNCHES him right in the solar plexus, doubling him over.
Lovejoy gets up and looks around for his gun. He pulls it up out of the water and wades after them.
They run through the galley and Rose spots the stairs. She starts up and Jack grabs her hand. He leads her DOWN.
They crouch together on the landing as Lovejoy runs to the stairs. Assuming they have gone up (who wouldn't?) he clomps up them two at a time.
They wait for the footsteps to recede. A long CREAKING GROAN. Then they hear it... a CRYING CHILD. Below them. They go down a few steps to look along the next deck.
The corridor is awash, about a foot deep. Standing against the wall, about 50 feet away, is a little BOY, about 3. The water swirls around his legs and he is wailing.
A torrent of water comes pouring down the stairs like rapids. In seconds it is too powerful for them to go against.
Jack and Rose run as a wave blasts around the corner, foaming from floor to ceiling. It gains on them like a locomotive. They make it to a stairway going up.
Jack and Rose pound up the steps as white water swirls up behind them. PULL BACK to reveal that a steel gate blocks the top of the stairs. Jack SLAMS against the gate, gripping the bars.
A terrified steward standing guard on the landing above turns to run at the sight of the water thundering up the stairs.
The lights short out and the landing is plunged into darkness.
The water rises over the lock and he's doing it by feel.
Suddenly the gate gives and SWINGS OPEN. They are pushed through by the force of the water. They make it to stairs on the other side of the landing and follow the steward up to the next deck.
Cal comes reeling out of the first class entrance, looking wild-eyed. He lurches down the deck toward the bridge. Waltz music wafts over the ship. Somewhere the band is still playing.
CAL'S POV: A little girl, maybe two years old, is crying alone in an alcove. She looks up at Cal beseechingly. Cal moves on without a glance back... reaching a large crowd clustered around COLLAPSIBLE A just aft of the bridge. He sees Murdoch and a number of crewmen struggling to drag the boat to the davits, with no luck.
Cal pushes forward, trying to signal Murdoch, but the officer ignores him. Nearby TOMMY AND FABRIZIO are being pushed forward by the crowd behind. PURSER McELROY pushes them back, getting a couple of seamen to help him. He brandishes his gun, waving it in the air, yelling for the crowd to stay back.
Lightoller, with a group of crew and passengers, is trying to get Collapsible B down from the roof. They slide it down a pair of oars leaned against the deck house.
Jack and Rose run up seemingly endless stairs as the ship groans and torques around them.
Murdoch, at Collapsible Am is no longer in control. The crowd is threatening to rush the boat. They push and jostle, yelling and shouting at the officers. The pressure from behind pushes them forward, and one guy falls off the edge of the deck into the water less than ten feet below.
A man next to Tommy rushes forward, and Tommy is shoved from behind. Murdoch SHOOTS the first man, and seeing Tommy coming forward, puts a bullet into his chest.
Tommy collapses, and Fabrizio grabs him, holding him in his arms as his life flows out over the deck.
Murdoch turns to his men and salutes smartly. Then he puts the pistol to his temple and... BLAM! He drops like a puppet with the strings cut and topples over the edge of the boat deck into the water only a few feet below.
Cal stares in horror at Murdoch's body bobbing in the black water. The MONEY FLOATS out of the pocket of his greatcoat, the bills spreading across the surface.
The crew rush to get the last few women aboard the boat.
Thomas Andrews stands in front of the fireplace, staring at the large painting above the mantle. The fire is still going in the fireplace.
The room is empty except for Andrews. An ashtray falls off the table. Behind him Jack and Rose run into the room, out of breath and soaked. They run through, toward the aft revolving door... the Rose recognizes him. She sees that his lifebelt is off, lying on a table.
(a tear runs down his cheek)
I'm sorry that I didn't build you a stronger ship,
It's going fast... we've gotta keep moving.
And to you, Mr. Andrews.
The band finishes the waltz/ Wallace Hartley looks at the orchestra members.
Without a word they walk back to their places. They join in with Hartley, filling out the sound so that it reaches all over the ship on this still night. The vocalist begins: "If in my dreams I be, nearer my God to thee..."
THE HYMN PLAYS OVER THE FOLLOWING SEQUENCE:
A seaman pulls off his lifebelt and catches up to Captain Smith as he walks to the bridge. He proffers it, but Smith seems to stare right through him. Without a word he turns and goes onto the bridge. He enters the enclosed WHEELHOUSE and closes the door. He is alone, surrounded by the gleaming brass instruments. He seems to inwardly collapse.
IN THE FIRST CLASS SMOKING ROOM Andrews stands like a statue. He pulls out his pocketwatch and checks the time. Then he opens the face of the mantle clock and adjusts it to the correct time: 2:12 a.m. Everything must be correct.
IN CALíS PARLOR SUITE water swirls in from the private promenade deck. Rose's paintings are submerged. The Picasso transforms under the water's surface. Degas' colors run. Monet's water lilies come to life.
DOWNANGLE on two figures lying side by side, fully clothed, on a bed in a FIRST CLASS CABIN. Elderly Ida and Isador Straus stare at the ceiling, holding hands like young lovers. Water pours into the room through a doorway. It swirls around the bed, two feet deep and rising fast.
IN A STEERAGE CABIN somewhere in the bowels of the ship, the young IRISH MOTHER, seen earlier stoically waiting at the stairs is tucking her two young children into bed. She pulls up the covers, making sure they are all warm and cozy. She lies down with them on the bed, speaking soothingly and holding them.
ON THE PORT SIDE Collapsible B is picked up by the water. Working frantically, the men try to detach it from the falls so the ship[ won't drag it under. Colonel Gracie hands Lightoller a pocket knife and he saws furiously at the ropes as the water swirls around his legs. The boat, still upside down, is swept off the ship. Men start diving in, swimming to stay with it.
IN COLLAPSIBLE A Cal sits next to the wailing child, whom he has completely forgotten. He watches the water rising around the men as they work, scrambling to get the ropes cut so the ship won't drag the collapsible under.
Fabrizio removes the lifebelt from Tommy's body and struggles to put it on as the water rises around him.
CAPTAIN SMITH, standing near the wheel, watches the black water climbing the windows of the enclosed wheelhouse. He has the stricken expression of a damned soul on Judgment Day. The windows burst suddenly and a wall of water edged with shards of glass slams into Smith. He disappears in a vortex of foam.
Collapsible A is hit by a wave as the bow plunges suddenly. It partially swamps the boat, washing it along the boat deck. Over a hundred passengers are plunged into the freezing water and the area around the boat becomes a frenzy of splashing, screaming people.
As men are trying to climb into the collapsible, Cal grabs an oar and pushes them back into the water.
WALLACE HARTLEY sees the water rolling rapidly up the deck toward them. He holds the last note of the hymn in sustain, and then lowers his violin.
Jack and Rose run out of the PALM COURT into a dense crowd. Jack pushes his way to the rail and looks at the state of the ship. The bridge is under water and there is chaos on deck. Jack helps her put her lifebelt on. People stream around them, shouting and pushing.
Collapsible A is whirled like a leaf in the currents around the sinking ship. It slams against the side of the forward funnel.
Suddenly there is a concussion deep in the bowels of the ship as a furnace explodes and a blast of hot air belches out of the ventilator, ejecting Fabrizio. He surfaces in a roar of foam and keeps swimming.
Jack and Rose clamber over the A-Deck rail. Then, using all his strength, he lowers her toward the deck below, holding on with one hand, She dangles, then falls. Jack jumps down behind her.
They join a crush of people literally clawing and scrambling over each other to get down the narrow stairs to the well deck... the only way aft.
Seeing that the stairs are impossible, jack climbs over the B-Deck railing and helps Rose over. He lowers her again, and she falls in a heap. BAKER JOUGHIN, now three sheets to the wind, happens to be next to her. He hauls Rose to her feet. Jack drops down and the three of them push through the crowd across the well deck. Near them, at the rail people are jumping into the water.
The ship GROANS and SHUDDERS. The man ahead of Jack is walking like a zombie.
You wanna walk a little faster through that valley, fella?
The stay cables along the top of the funnel snap, and they lash like steel whips down into the water. Cal watches as the funnel topples from it's mounts. Falling like a temple pillar twenty eight feet across it whomps into the water with a tremendous splash. People swimming underneath it disappear in an instant.
Fabrizio, a few feet away, is hurled back by a huge wave. He comes up, gasping... still swimming. The water pouring into the open end of the funnel draws in several swimmers. The funnel sinks, disappearing, but--
Hundreds of tons of water pour down through the 30 foot hole where the funnel once stood, thundering down into the belly of the ship. A whirlpool forms, a hole in the ocean, like an enormous toilet-flush. T.W. McCawley, the gym instructor, swims in a frenzy as the vortex draws him in. He is sucked down like a spider going down a drain.
Fabrizio, nearby, swims like Hell as more people are sucked down behind him. He manages to get clear. He's going to live no matter what it takes.
Water roars in through the doors and windows, cascading down the stairs like rapids. John Jacob Astor is swept down the marble steps to A-Deck, which is already flooded... a roiling vortex. He grabs the headless cherub at the bottom of the staircase and wraps his arms around it.
Astor looks up in time to see the 30 foot glass dome overhead EXPLODE INWARD with the wave of water washing over it. A Niagara of sea water thunders down into the room, blasting through the first class opulence. It is the Armageddon of elegance.
The flooding is horrific. Walls and doors are splintered like kindling. Water roars down corridors with pile-driver force.
The CARTMELL FAMILY are at the top of a stairwell, jammed against a locked gate like Jack and Rose were. Water boils up the stairwell behind them. Bert Cartmell shakes the gate futiley, shouting for help. Little Cora wails as the water boils up around them all.
Rose and Jack struggle to climb the well deck stairs as the ship tilts. Drunken Baker Joughin puts a hand squarely on Rose's butt and shoves her up onto the deck.
As the bow goes down the STERN RISES. IN BOAT TWO, which is just off the stern, passengers gape as the giant bronze propellers rise out of the water like gods of the deep, FILLING FRAME behind them.
People are JUMPING from the well deck, the poop deck, the gangway doors. Some hit debris in the water and are hurt or killed.
ON THE POOP DECK Jack and Rose struggle aft as the angle increases. Hundreds of passengers, clinging to every fixed object on deck, huddle on their knees around FATHER BYLES, who has his voice raised in prayer. They are praying, sobbing or just staring at nothing, their minds blank with dread.
Pulling himself from handhold to handhold, Jack tugs Rose aft along the deck.
THE PROPELLERS are twenty feet above the water and rising faster.
JACK AND ROSE make it to the stern rail, right at the base of the flagpole. They grip the rail, jammed in between other people. It is the spot where Jack pulled her back onto the ship, just two nights... and a lifetime... ago.
Above the wailing and sobbing, Father Byles' voice carries, cracking with emotion.
Rose sees a young mother next to her, clutching her five year old son, who is crying in terror.
He shall wipe every tear from their eyes. And there
shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or
pain, for the former world has passed away.
As the ship tilts everything not bolted down inside shifts.
CUPBOARDS burst open in the pantry, showering the floor with tons of china. A PIANO slides across the floor, crashing into a wall. FURNITURE tumbles across the smoking room floor.
ON THE A-DECK PROMENADE passengers lose their grip and slide down the wooden deck like a bobsled run, hundreds of feet before they hit the water. TRUDY BOLT, Rose's maid, slips as she struggles along the railing and slides away screaming.
AT THE STERN the propellers are 100 feet out of the water and rising. Panicking people leap from the poop deck rail, fall screaming and hit the water like mortar rounds. A man falls from the poop deck, hitting the bronze hub of the starboard propeller with a sickening smack.
SWIMMERS LOOK UP and see the stern towering over them like a monolith, the propellers rising against the stars. 110 feet. 120.
AT THE STERN RAIL a man jumps. IN HIS POV we fall seemingly forever, right past one of the giant screws. The water rushes up--
TRACKING SLOWLY IN on Ruth as the sounds of the dying ship and the screaming people come across the water.
REVERSE/ HER POV: IN A WIDE SHOT we see the spectacle of the Titanic, her lights blazing, reflecting in the still water. It's stern is high in the air, angled up over forty five degrees. The propellers are 150 feet out of the water. Over a thousand passengers cling to the decks, looking from a distance like a swarm of bees.
The image is shocking, unbelievable, unthinkable. Ruth stares at the spectacle, unable to frame it or put it into any proportion.
In darkness Chief Engineer Bell hangs onto a pipe at the master breaker panel. Around him men climb through tilted cyclopean machines with electric hand-torches. It is a black hell of breaking pipes, spraying water, and groaning machinery threatening to tear right out of its bedplates.
Water sprays down, hitting the breaker panel, but Bell will not leave his post. CLUNK. The breakers kick. He slams them in again and-- WHOOM! a blast of light! Something melts and arcing fills the engine room with nightmarish light--
WIDE SHOT. The lights go out all over the ship. Titanic becomes a vast black silhouette against the stars.
IN COLLAPSIBLE C: BRUCE ISMAY has his back to the ship, unable to watch the great steamer die. He is satatonic with remorse, his mind overloaded. He can avert his eyes, but he can't block out the sounds of dying people and machinery.
A loud CRACKING REPORT comes across the water.
Near the third funnel a man clutches the ship's rail. He stares down as the DECK SPLITS right between his feet. A yawning chasm opens with a THUNDER of breaking steel.
LOVEJOY is clutching the railing on the roof of the Officers' Mess. He watches in horror as the ship's structure RIPS APART right in front of him. He gapes down into a widening maw, seeing straight down into the bowels of the ship, amid a BOOMING CONCUSSION like the sound of artillery. People falling into the widening crevasse look like dolls.
The stay cables on the funnel part and snap across the decks like whips, ripping off davits and ventilators. A man is hit by a whipping cable and snatched OUT OF FRAME. Another cable smashes the rail next to Lovejoy and it rips free. He falls backward into the pit of jagged metal.
Fires, explosions and sparks light the yawning chasms as the hull splits down through nine decks to the keel. The sea pours into the gaping wound--
It is a thundering black hell. Men scream as monstrous machinery comes apart around them, steel frames twisting like taffy. Their torches illuminate the roaring, foaming demon of water as it races at them through the machines. Trying to climb, they are overtaken in seconds.
The STERN HALF of the ship, almost four hundred feet long, falls back toward the water. On the poop deck everyone screams as they feel themselves plummeting. The sound goes up like the roar of fans at a baseball stadium when a run is scored.
Swimming in the water directly under the stern a few unfortunates shriek as they see the keel coming down on them like God's bootheel. The massive stern section falls back almost level, thundering down into the sea and pushing out a mighty wave of displaced water.
Jack and Rose struggle to hold onto the stern rail. They feel the ship seemingly RIGHT ITSELF. Some of those praying think it is salvation.
Now the horrible mechanics play out. Pulled down by the awesome weight of the flooded bow, the buoyant stern tilts up rapidly. They feel the RUSH OF ASCENT as the fantail angles up again. Everyone is clinging to benches, railings, ventilators... anything to keep from sliding as the stern lifts.
The stern goes up, past 45 degrees, then past sixty.
People start to fall, sliding and tumbling. They skid down the deck, screaming and flailing to grab onto something. They wrench other people loose and pull them down as well. There is a pile-up of bodies at the forward rail. The DAHL FAMILY falls one by one.
The stern is now straight up in the air... a rumbling black monolith standing against the stars. It hangs there like that for a long grace note, its buoyancy stable.
Rose lies on the railing, looking down fifteen stories to the boiling sea at the base of the stern section. People near them, who didn't climb over, hang from the railing, their legs dangling over the long drop. They fall one by one, plummeting down the vertical face of the poop deck. Some of them bounce horribly off deck benches and ventilators.
Jack and Rose lie side by side on what was the vertical face of the hull, gripping the railing, which is now horizontal. Just beneath their feet are the gold letters TITANIC emblazoned across the stern.
Rose stares down terrified at the black ocean waiting below to claim them. Jack looks to his left and sees Baker Joughin, crouching on the hull, holding onto the railing. It is a surreal moment.
IN A HIGH SHOT, we see the stern descend into the boiling sea. The name TITANIC disappears, and the tiny figures of Jack and Rose vanish under the water.
Where the ship stood, now there is nothing. Only the black ocean.
Bodies are whirled and spun, some limp as dolls, others struggling spasmodically, as the vortex sucks them down and tumbles them.
Jack rises INTO FRAME F.G. kicking hard for the surface... holding tightly to Rose, pulling her up.
AT THE SURFACE: a roiling chaos of screaming, thrashing people. Over a thousand people are now floating where the ship went down. Some are stunned, gasping for breath. Others are crying, praying, moaning, shouting... screaming.
Jack and Rose surface among them. They barely have any time to gasp for air before people are clawing at them. People driven insane by the water, 4 degrees below freezing, a cold so intense it is indistinguishable from death by fire.
A man pushes Rose under, trying to climb on top of her... senselessly trying to get out of the water, to climb onto anything. Jack PUNCHES him repeatedly, pulling her free.
Jack strokes rhythmically, the effort keeping him from freezing.
It's so cold.
I know. I know. Help me, here. Look around.
A DEVIL is right in front of her face. It is the black FRENCH BULLDOG, swimming right at her like a seamonster in the darkness, it's coal eyes bugging. It motors past her, like it's heading for Newfoundland.
Beyond it Rose sees something in the water.
But when Jack tries to get up onto the thing, it tilts and submerges, almost dumping Rose off. It is clearly only big enough to support her. He clings to it, close to her, keeping his upper body out of the water as best be can.
Their breath floats around them in a cloud as they pant from the exertion. A MAN swims toward them, homing in on the piece of debris. Jack warns him back,
Let me try at least, or I'll die soon.
You'll die quicker if you come any closer.
Yes, I see. Good luck to you then.
The boat is overloaded and half-flooded. Men cling to the sides in the water. Others, swimming, are drawn to it as their only hope. Cal, standing in the boat, slaps his oar in the water as a warning.
(pointing with the oar)
It's that way!
FABRIZIO'S POV: Cal in SLOW MOTION, yelling and wielding the oar. A demon in a tuxedo. The image fades to black.
JACK AND ROSE still afloat amid a chorus of the damned. Jack sees a ship's officer nearby, CHIEF OFFICER WILDE. He is blowing his whistle furiously, knowing the sound will carry over the water for miles.
Please... help us. Save one life! SAVE ONE LIFE!
AW knock it off, yer scarin' me. Come on girls, grab
your oars. Let's go.
Well come on!
It you don't shut that hole in yer face, there'll be one
less in this boat!
IN BOAT ONE: Sir Cosmo and Lucille Duff Gordon sit with ten other people in a boat that is two thirds empty. They are two hundred yards from the screaming in the darkness.
TWENTY BOATS, most half full, float in the darkness. None of them make a move.
Jack squeezes the water out of her long coat, tucking it in tightly around her legs. He rubs her arms. His face is chalk white in the darkness. A low MOANING in the darkness around them.
Just a few more minutes. It'll take them a while to get
the boats organized
I'm so cold.
You're going to get out of this... you're going to go
on and you're going to make babies and watch them
grow and you're going to die an old lady, warm in
your bed. Not here. Not this night. Do you
I can't feel my body.
Rose, listen to me. Listen. Winning that ticket was
the best thing that ever happened to me.
Never let go.
I Promise. I will never let go, jack. I'll never let go.
Fifth Officer Lowe, the impetuous young Welshman, has gotten boats 10, 12 and Collapsible D together with his own boat 14. A demon of energy, he's had everyone hold the boats together and is transferring passengers from 14 into the others, to empty his boat for a rescue attempt.
As the women step gingerly across into the other boats, Lowe sees a shawled figure in too much of a hurry. He rips the shawl off, and finds himself staring into the face of a man. He angrily shoves the stowaway into another boat and turns to his crew of three.
The beam of an electric torch plays across the water like a searchlight as Boat 14 comes toward us.
ANGLE FROM THE BOAT as the torch illuminates floating debris, a poignant trail of flotsam: a violin, a child's wooden soldier, a framed photo of a steerage family. Daniel Marvin's wooden Biograph camera.
Then, their white lifebelts bobbing in the darkness like signposts, the first bodies come into the torches beam. The people are dead but not drowned, killed by the freezing water. Some look like they could be sleeping. One seaman throws up. Lowe sees a mother floating with her arms frozen around her lifeless baby.
IN A HOVERING DOWNANGLE we see Jack and Rose floating in the black water. The stars reflect in the mill pond surface, and the two of them seem to be floating in interstellar space. They are absolutely still. Their hands are locked together. Rose is staring upwards at the canopy of stars wheeling above her. The music is transparent, floating... as the long sleep steals over Rose, and she feels peace.
CLOSE on Rose's face. Pale, like the faces of the dead. She seems to be floating in a void. Rose is in a semi-hallucinatory state. She knows she is dying. Her lips barely move as she sings a scrap of Jack's song:
A SHOOTING STAR flares... a line of light across the heavens.
TIGHT ON ROSE again. We see that her hair is dusted with frost crystals. Her breathing is so shallow, she is almost motionless. Her eyes track down from the stars to the water.
Then the lookout flashes his torch toward her and the light flares across the water, silhouetting the bobbing corpses in between. It flicks past her motionless form and moves on. The boat is 50 feet away, and moving past her. The men look away.
Rose lifts her head to turn to Jack. We see that her hair has frozen to the wood under her.
He seems to be sleeping peacefully.
But he is not asleep.
Rose can only stare at his still face as the realization goes through her.
She closes her eyes. She is so weak, and there just seems to be no reason to even try.
And then... her eyes snap open.
She raises her head suddenly, crackling the ice as she rips her hair off the wood. She calls out, but her voice is so weak they don't hear her. The boat is invisible now, the torch light a star impossibly far away. She struggles to draw breath, calling again.
IN THE BOAT Lowe hears nothing behind him. He points to something ahead, turning the tiller.
ROSE struggles to move. Her hand, she realizes, is actually frozen to Jack's. She breathes on it, melting the ice a little, and gently unclasps their hands, breaking away a tin tinkling film.
Rose rolls off the floating staircase and plunges into the icy water. She swims to Chief Officer Wilde's body and grabs the whistle. She starts to BLOW THE WHISTLE with all the strength in her body. Its sound slaps across the still water.
IN BOAT 14 Lowe whips around at the sound of the whistle.
EXTREME CLOSEUP of Rose's ancient, wrinkled face. Present day.
Lovett, for the first time, has even forgotten to ask about the diamond.
MATCHING MOVE as the camera tracks along the faces of the saved.
DISSOLVE TO: ANOTHER BOAT, and then ANOTHER, seeing faces we know among the survivors: Ismay in a trance, just staring and trembling... Cal, sipping from a hip flask offered to him by a black-faced stoker... Ruth hugging herself, rocking gently.
IN BOAT 14: CLOSE ON ROSE, lying swaddled. Only her face visible, white as the moon. The man next to her jumps up, pointing and yelling. Soon everyone is looking and shouting excitedly. In Rose's POV it is all silent, SLOW MOTION.
IN A SLOW-MOTION SILENCE we see Lowe light a green flare and wave it as everyone shouts and cheers. Rose doesn't react. She floats beyond all human emotion.
IMAGES DISSOLVE into one another: a ships hull looming, with the letters CARPATHIA visible on the bow... Rose watching, rocked by the sea, her face blank... seamen helping survivors up the rope ladder to the Carpathia's gangway doors... two women crying and hugging each other inside the ship... ALL SILENT, ALL IN SLOW-MOTION. There is just music, so gentle and sad, part elegy, part hymn, art aching song of love lost forever.
THE IMAGES CONTINUE to music... Rose, outside of time, outside of herself, coming into Carpathia, barely able to stand... Rose being draped by warm blankets and given hot tea... BRUCE ISMAY climbing aboard. He has the face and eyes of a damned soul.
As Ismay walks along the hall, guided by a crewman toward the doctors cabin, he passes rows of seated and standing widows. He must run the gauntlet of their accusing gazes.
It is the afternoon of the 15th. Cal is searching the faces of the widows lining the deck, looking for Rose. The deck of Carpathia is crammed with huddled people, and even the recovered lifeboats of Titanic. On a hatch cover sits an enormous pile of lifebelts.
He keeps walking toward the stern. Seeing Cal's tuxedo, a steward approaches him.
Rose is sipping hot tea. Her eyes focus on him as he approaches her. He barely recognizes her. She looks like a refugee, her matted hair hanging in her eyes.
Rose... your mother and I have been looking for you--
(after a long beat)
What do I tell your mother?
Tell her that her daughter died with the Titanic.
Jewels are precious. Goodbye, Mr. Hockley.
After a moment, he turns and walks away.
LATER CARPATHIA DISGORGES THE SURVIVORS at the Cunard pier, Pier 54. Over 30,000 people line the dock and fill the surrounding streets. The magnesium flashes of the photographers go off like small bombs, lighting an amazing tableau.
Several hundred police keep the mob back. The dock is packed with friends and relatives, officials, ambulances, and the press--
Reporters and photographers swarm everywhere... 6 deep at the foot of the gangways, lining the tops of cars and trucks.. it is the 1912 equivalent to a media circus. They jostle to get close to the survivors, tugging on them as they pass and shouting over each other to ask them questions.
Rose is covered with a woolen shawl and walking with a group of steerage passengers. Immigration officers are asking them questions as they come off the gangway.
Dawson. Rose Dawson.
Rose uses this moment to slip away into the crowd. She pushes through the jostling people, moving with purpose, and none challenges her in the confusion.
Old Rose sits with the group in the imaging shack, lit by the blue glow of the screens. She holds the haircomb with the jade butterfly on the handle in her gnarled hands.
No, there wouldn't be, would there? And I've never
spoken of him until now, not to anyone.
Not even your Grandfather. A woman's heart is a deep
ocean of secrets. But now you all know there was a
man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me, in
every way that a person can be saved.
(closing her eyes)
I don't even have a picture of him. He exists now
only in my memory.
EXT. OCEAN FLOOR/ TITANIC WRECK
The Mir submersibles make their last pass over the ship. We hear Yuri the pilot on the UQC:
A desultory wrap up party for the expedition is in progress. There is music and some of the (co-ed) Russian crew are dancing. Bodine is getting drunk in the aggressive style of Baker Joughin.
Lovett stands at the rail, looking down into the black water. Lizzy comes to him, offering him a beer. She puts her hand on his arm.
We were pissin' in the wind the whole time.
Rose walks through the shadows of the deck machinery. Her nightgown blows in the wind. Her feet are bare. Her hands are clutched at her chest, almost as if she is praying.
ON BROCK AND LIZZY running down the stairs from the top deck, hauling ass.
ROSE reaches the stern rail. Her gnarled fingers wrap over the rail. Her ancient foot steps up on the gunwale. She pushes herself up leaning forward. Over her shoulder, we see the black water glinting far below.
BROCK AND LIZZY run up behind her.
It is the "Heart of the Ocean".
Lovett sees his holy grail in her hand and his eyes go wide. Rose keeps it over the railing where she can drop it anytime.
You had it the entire time!?
BACK ON KELDYSH, Rose smiles at Brock's incomprehension.
Don't drop it Rose.
(a fierce whisper)
It's hers, you schmuck.
Look, Rose, I... I don't know what to say to a woman
who tries to jump off the Titanic when it's not sinking,
and jumps back on when it is... we're not dealing with
logic here, I know that... but please... think
bout this for a second.
I have. I came all the way here so this could go back
where it belongs.
Surprisingly, she calmly places the massive stone in the palm of his hand, while still holding onto the necklace. Brock gazes at the object of his quest. An infinity of cold scalpels glint in its blue depths. It is mesmerizing. It fits in his hand just like he imagined.
He looks up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes are suddenly infinitely wise and deep.
Then, with an impish little grin, Rose tosses the necklace over the rail. Bodine gives a strangled cry and rushes to the rail in time to see it hit the water and disappear forever.
IN THE BLACK HEART OF THE OCEAN, the diamond sinks, twinkling end over end, into the infinite depths.
A GRACEFUL PAN across Rose's shelf of carefully arranged pictures:
Rose as a young actress in California, radiant... a theatrically lit studio publicity shot...
Rose and her husband, with their two children... Rose with her son at his college graduation... Rose with her children and grandchildren at her 70th birthday. A collage of images of a life lived well.
THE PAN STOPS on an image filling frame. Rose, circa 1920. She is at the beach, sitting on a horse in the surfline. The Santa Monica pier, with it's rollercoaster is behind her. She is grinning, full of life.
We PAN OFF the last picture to Rose herself, warm in her bunk. A profile shot. She is very still. She could be sleeping, or maybe something else.
WE GO INSIDE, and the echoing sound of distant waltz music is heard. The rust fades away from the walls of the dark corridor and it is transformed... WE EMERGE onto the grand staircase, lit by glowing chandeliers. The music is vibrant now, and the room is populated by men in tie and tails, women in gowns. It is exquisitely beautiful.
IN POV we sweep down the staircase. The crowd of beautiful gentlemen and ladies turn as we descend toward them. At the bottom a man stands with his back to us... he turns and it is Jack. Smiling he holds his hand out toward us.
IN A SIDE ANGLE Rose goes into his arms, a girl of 17. The passengers, officers and crew of the RMS Titanic smile and applaud in the utter silence of the abyss.