Unbroken Page #9

depression of Phil and Mac’s bodies. Neither one moves.

Bullet holes pop through the canvas, shooting beams of light

through the raft’s shadow. Bullets pierce the water

throughout the following sequence:

A shark approaching Louie is shot by a stream of bullets from

above.

Louie sees a long cord straying off the end of the raft. He

grabs it.

123

EXT. RAFT, PACIFIC OCEAN - DAY 123

Louie breaching, hooking his arms over the raft. He climbs

back in just as the shark comes back for another attack.

LOUIE:

Phil! Mac!

Beat. Phil speaks without moving or opening his eyes PHIL

If the Japs are this bad, we might

even win this damn war.

Mac moves. Looks round. Sees the plane has gone.

Then they hear the air hissing out of the raft. Water is

filling up the bottom. One raft left, the other is shot to

sh*t and already completely deflated.

Louie hunts out the patch kits. The others search out the

holes. Every time they move another hole is uncovered,

hissing out air. And all the time the sharks are circling.

Phil grabs an air pump, screws it to a valve, and starts

pumping. Bubbles push out of bullet holes. Louie works on

applying patches, using the edge of the mirror to rough up

the rubber round the hole before applying glue and patch.

Phil keeps pumping hard.

Suddenly a shark lunges up out of the water, mouth open,

right at Louie An

oar sweeps past Louie’s head, striking the shark back into

the water.

It’s Mac, come back to life. He beats the sharks with fury

and power we’ve not seen in him before.

Mac goes on swinging his oar, whacking at the sharks.

Mac continues hitting the sharks away as Phil pushes the pump

against his chest, inflating the raft.

124

EXT. RAFT, PACIFIC OCEAN - LATE AFTERNOON 124

The exhausted men continue with what little energy they have

left. Mac stands ready with his oar. We can see this fight

has taken a lot out of him.

LOUIE:

Did you see that Mac surprise

attack? Damn sharks were scared

sh*t. He came down on that thing

like a Goddamn dive bomber.

PHIL:

Saved your skinny ass.

We see this means a great deal to Mac, though he hides it

from the other men. Louie takes over the pumping.

125

Later-125

The sun goes down over the endless ocean. The men continue to

work into the night.

126

EXT. RAFT, PACIFIC OCEAN - DAY #34 - DAY 126

Louie is near the canvas bowl, stretched out.

Mac lies with his head on Phil’s lap, not moving. The three

are barely alive, their flesh almost transparent, their bones

visible. They speak slowly, not much energy left. Quizzing

each other to keep alive.

LOUIE:

1937. Baseball. MVP.

PHIL:

Uh... the kid from Detroit...

Gerhinger.

LOUIE:

Mac. Get in the game.

He’s trying to make out what’s happening with Mac.

LOUIE (CONT’D)

Mac?

68

No response from Mac: head-down, shoulders rhythmically

moving with his rasping breath. Louie moves over to Mac.

LOUIE (CONT’D)

Mac?

MAC:

Still here. What you gonna make for

breakfast, Zamp?

LOUIE:

Your call.

MAC:

Your mother’s gnocchi.

LOUIE:

Gnocchi for breakfast? Okay. Why

not?

MAC:

Am I gonna die?

After a moment-

LOUIE:

Maybe.

MAC:

You think, tonight?

LOUIE:

Maybe.

MAC:

Yes, sir. I think tonight.

Louie and Phil shuffle their weakened bodies until they’re

lying on either side of Mac, their arms round him.

LOUIE:

So you get your dough, and you roll

it out . . .

His voice fades into silence.

127

EXT. RAFT, PACIFIC OCEAN - SUNRISE - DAY #35 127

Quiet at the cut.

Gentle slap of water on the boat.

Mac’s body has been laid out face up, in a comfortable

position.

Louie is squatted at the back of the boat, waiting.

Phil is praying as he finishes preparing Mac’s body.

128

EXT. RAFT, PACIFIC OCEAN - MOMENTS LATER 128

Both men have hands on the corpse.

They shove him off.

The boat bobs, regaining balance.

The men seat themselves, grabbing sides of the boat,

steadying it, steadying themselves.

The body bobs in the water.

The men, looking at it.

The body is abruptly grabbed, somehow, and briefly towed.

It disappears into the water.

A130

EXT. RAFT, PACIFIC OCEAN - DAY 44 A130

Louie looks at Phil. How frail and emaciated he is. He then

looks up into the heavens. Into the clouds. Beautiful clouds.

It’s almost as if he can hear music. The sounds of angels

coming from the heavens.

130

EXT. RAFT, PACIFIC OCEAN - DAY #47 130

Wide on the raft.

Close on Louie.

Face-up, barely conscious, emaciated, sun-dazed.

Bobbing, sloshing.

Very quiet.

We hold on him for a long time. It is difficult to tell if

he is even breathing.

A shadow cuts his face.

Louie fights his eyes open, fights to focus. Sun and shadow

travel in bars across his face.

70

His point-of-view, looking steeply up: metal hull, topped by

rail, gliding along, traveling horizontally across the frame.

The sun pouring in at us is cut rhythmically by rail-posts.

Louie, looking.

His point-of-view: the ship continues to slide by. But now:

a person at the rail, looking down at us. He slips off;

another person. And another. Sailors, all looking down at

us. Japanese. All holding rifles pointed at us.

Louie.

He painfully wets his lips. He works his tongue,

preparing to speak. Then:

LOUIE:

Phil.

We hear Phil’s voice, very weak:

PHIL:

Yeah.

LOUIE:

I got good news and bad news.

131

INT. PRISON CELL - DAY 131

BLACK:

The sound of a heavy door opening.

Breathing and oofs! As a body is manhandled and flung to the

ground.

Close on Louie:
a blindfold is ripped away.

He is lying on a dirt floor. He blinks, looks:

His point-of-view: low looking steeply up at a Japanese guard

stepping away, the blindfold dangling from one hand. He goes

through the door and it is closed after him.

Louie collects himself, gets on his hands and knees, and

looks around the dim and very cramped space.

Wooden cell. Thatched roof. No exterior window. Small,

closed window in the door. Hole in the floor: latrine.

Louie squints at the dirt floor by one of his planted hands:

movement.

He jerks his hand away. He looks closer:

Wriggling maggots.

He presses himself into a corner.

After a beat:

LOUIE:

Phil?

A voice, distant and small, somewhere to the left:

PHIL:

Louie.

LOUIE:

. . You okay?

PHIL:

Land feels funny.

LOUIE:

Funny, yeah.

We hear Japanese yelling from down the hall, and a door

opening, a couple of footsteps, and a blow.

Louie, listening to Phil taking a beating.

Louie pounds at the door. He tries to see through the cracks

but can’t.

132 OMITTED 132

133

INT. CELL - DUSK 133

Louie sits on floor, forearms on knees, hands dangle limply,

head sunk below shoulders.

134

INT. STEEP ON WALL - MORNING 134

A small beam of morning sunlight illuminates the cell wall.

Louie lifts his face into it as if trying to escape into the

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