Titanic Page #22

114 INT. F-DECK CORRIDORS / FAN ROOM

A functional space, with access to a number of machine spaces (fan rooms,

boiler uptakes). Jack and Rose are leaning against a wall, laughing.

JACK:

Pretty tough for a valet, this fella.

ROSE:

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...

JACK:

Kinda like we're doin' right now-- uh oh!

Lovejoy has spotted them from a cross-corridor nearby. He charges toward

them. Jack and Rose run around a corner into a blind alley. There is one

door, marked CREW ONLY, and Jack flings it open.

115 They enter a roaring RAN 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:

After you, m'lady.

CUT TO:

116 INT. BOILER ROOM FIVE AND SIX

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 smoky glow. They run the length of the boiler room,

dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal.

JACK:

(shouting over the din)

Carry on! Don't mind us!

They run through the open watertight door into BOILER ROOM SIX. Jack pulls

her through the fiercely hot alley between two boilers and they wind up in

the dark, out of sight of the working crew. Watching from the shadows, they

see the stokers working in the hellish glow, shovelling coal into the

insatiable maws of the furnaces. The whole place thunders with the roar of

the fires.

CUT TO:

117 INT. FIRST CLASS SMOKING ROOM

Amid unparalled luxury, Cal sits at a card game, sipping brandy.

COLONEL GRACIE:

We're going like hell I tel you. I have fifty dollars that says we make it

into New York Tuesday night!

Cal looks at his gold pocket watch, and scowls, not listening.

CUT TO:

118 OMITTED

119 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.

CUT TO:

120 INT. HOLD #2

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, lashing down

to a pallet. It looks like a royal coach from a fairy tale, its brass trim

and headlamps nicely set off by its deep burgundy color.

Rose climbs into the plushly upholstered back seat, acting very royal.

There are cut crystals bud vases on the walls back there, each containing a

rose. Jack jumps into the driver's seat, enjoying hte feel of the leather

and wood.

JACK:

Where to, Miss?

ROSE:

To the stars.

ON JACK as her hands come out of the shadows and pull him over the seat

into the back. He lands next to her, and his breath seems loud in the quiet

darkness. He looks at her and she is smiling. It is the moment of truth.

JACK:

Are you nervous?

ROSE:

Au contraire, mon cher.

He strokes her face, cherishing her. She kisses his artist's fingers.

ROSE:

Put your hands on me Jack.

He kisses her, and she slides down in the seat under his welcome weight.

CUT TO:

121 INT. WIRELESS ROOM

A BRILLIANT ARC OF ELECTRICITY fills frame-- the sparks 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.

BRIDE:

Look at this one, he wants his private train to meet him. La dee da.

(slaps them down)

We'll be up all bloody night on this lot.

Phillips start to receive an incoming message from a nearby ship, the

Leyland frieghter CALIFORNIAN, which jams his outgoing signal. At such

close range, the beeps are deafening.

PHILLIPS:

Christ! It's that idiot on the Californian.

Cursing, Phillips furiously keys a rebuke.

CUT TO:

122 INT. / EXT. WIRELESS SHAK / FREIGHTER CALIFORNIAN

Wireless Operater CYRIL EVANS pulls his earphone off his ear as the

Titanic's spark deafens him. he translates the message for THIRD OFFICER

GROVES.

EVANS:

Stupid bastard. I try to warn him about the ice, and he says "Keep out.

Shut up. I'm working Cape Race."

GROVES:

Now what's he sending?

EVANS:

"No seasickness. Poker business good. Al". Well that's it for me. I'm

shutting down.

As Evans wearily switches off his generator, Groves goes out on deck. PAN

oFF Him to reveal the ship is stopped fifty yards from the edge of a field

of pack ice and icebergs stretching as far as the eye can see.

CUT TO:

123 EXT. OCEAN / TITANIC

ON TITANIC, steaming hellbent through the darkness, hurling up white water

at the bows. The bow comes straight at us, until the bow wave WIPES THE

FRAME--

CUT TO:

124 INT. HOLD #2

PUSHING IN on the rear window of the Renault, which is completely fogged

up. Rose's hand comes up and slams against the glass for a moment, making a

handprint in the veil of condensation.

INSIDE THE CAR, Jack's overcoat is liek 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.

ROSE:

You're trembling.

JACK:

It's okay. I'm alright.

He lays his cheek against her chest.

JACK:

I can feel your heart beating.

She hugs his head to her chest, and just holds on for dear life.

OLD ROSE (V.O.)

Well, I wasn't the first teenage girl to get seduced in the backseat of a

car, and certainly not the last, by several million. He had such fine

hands, artists' hands, but strong too... roughened by work. I remember

their touch even now.

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