"TITANIC"
Screenplay by
James Cameron
BLACKNESS
Then two faint lights appear, close together... growing
brighter. They resolve into two DEEP SUBMERSIBLES, free-
falling toward us like express elevators.
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.
CUT TO:
EXT. / INT. MIR ONE / NORTH ATLANTIC DEEP
PUSHING IN on one of the falling submersibles, called MIR
ONE, right up to its circular viewport to see the occupants.
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. He's in his late
forties, deeply tanned, and likes to wear his Nomex suit
unzipped to show the gold from famous shipwrecks covering
his gray chest hair. 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 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 an R.O.V. (REMOTELY OPERATED VEHICLE) pilot and is
the resident Titanic expert.
Anatoly glances at the bottom sonar and makes a ballast
adjustment.
EXT. THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA
A pale, dead-flat lunar landscape. It gets brighter, lit
from above, as MIR ONE enters FRAME and drops to the seafloor
in a downblast from its thrusters. It hits bottom after its
two hour free-fall with a loud BONK.
INT. MIR ONE
Lovett and Bodine jerk awake at the landing.
ANATOLY
(heavy Russian accent)
We are here.
EXT. / INT. MIR ONE AND TWO
MINUTES LATER: THE TWO SUBS
Skim over the seafloor 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.
BODINE
Come left a little. She's right in
front of us, eighteen meters. Fifteen.
Thirteen... you should see it.
Do you see it? I don't see it...
there!
Out of the darkness, like a ghostly apparition, the bow of
the ship appears. Its knife-edge prow is coming straight at
us, seeming to plow the bottom sediment like ocean waves. It
towers above the seafloor, standing just as it landed 84
years ago.
THE TITANIC
Or what is left of her. Mir One goes up and over the bow
railing, intact except for an overgrowth of "rusticles"
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.
LOVETT
It still gets me every time.
The image pans to the front viewport, looking over Anatoly's
shoulder, to the bow railing visible in the lights beyond.
Anatoly turns.
Is just your guilt because of stealing
from the dead.
CUT WIDER
To show that Brock is operating the camera himself, turning
it in his hand so it points at his own face.
Thanks, Tolya. Work with me, here.
Brock resumes his serious, pensive gaze out the front port,
with the camera aimed at himself at arm's length.
It still gets me every time... to
see the sad ruin of the great ship
sitting here, where she landed at
2:30 in the morning, April 15, 1912,
after her long fall from the world
above.
Anatoly rolls his eyes and mutters in Russian. Bodine chuckles
and watches the sonar.
You are so full of shit, boss.
Mir Two drives aft down the starboard side, past the huge
anchor while Mir One passes over the seemingly endless
forecastle deck, with its massive anchor chains still laid
out in two neat rows, its bronze windlass caps gleaming. The
22 foot long subs are like white bugs next to the enormous
wreck.
LOVETT (V.O.)
Dive nine. Here we are again on the
deck of Titanic... two and a half
miles down. The pressure is three
tons per square inch, enough to crush
us like a freight train going over
an ant if our hull fails. These
windows are nine inches thick and if
they go, it's sayonara in two
microseconds.
Mir Two lands on the boat deck, next to the ruins of the
Officer's Quarters. Mir One lands on the roof of the deck
hous nearby.
Right. Let's go to work.
Bodine slips on a pair of 3-D electronic goggles, and grabs
the joystick controls of the ROV.
OUTSIDE THE SUB, the ROV, a small orange and black robot
called SNOOP DOG, lifts from its cradle and flies forward.
BODINE (V.O.)
Walkin' the dog.
Snoop Dog drives itself away from the sub, paying out its
umbilical behind it like a robot yo-yo. Its twin stereo-video
cameras swivel like insect eyes. The ROV descends through an
open shaft that once was the beautiful First Class Grand
Staircase.
Snoop Dog goes down several decks, then moves laterally into
the First Class Reception Room.
SNOOP'S VIDEO POV
Moving through the cavernous interior. The remains of the
ornate handcarved woodwork which gave the ship its elegance
move through the floodlights, the lines blurred by slow
dissolution and descending rusticle 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 the ghostly images of Titanic's opulence:
A grand piano in amazingly good shape, crashed on its side
against a wall. The keys gleam black and white in the lights.
A chandelier, still hanging from the ceiling by its wire...
glinting as Snoop moves around it.
Its lights play across the floor, revealing a champagne
bottle, then some WHITE STAR LINE china... a woman's high-
top "granny shoe". Then something eerie: what looks like a
child's 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 its rusted hinges. An ornate
piece of molding, a wall sconce... 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.
I'm in the sitting room. Heading for
bedroom B-54.
Stay off the floor. Don't stir it up
like you did yesterday.
I'm tryin' boss.
Glinting in the lights are the brass fixtures of the near-
perfectly preserved fireplace. An albino Galathea crab crawls
over it. Nearby are the remains of a divan and a writing
desk. The Dog crosses the ruins of the once elegant room
toward another DOOR. It squeezes through the doorframe,
scraping rust and wood chunks loose on both sides. It moves
out of a cloud of rust and keeps on going.
I'm crossing the bedroom.
The remains of a pillared canopy bed. Broken chairs, a
dresser. Through the collapsed wall of the bathroom, the
porcelain commode and bathtub took almost new, gleaming in
the dark.
Okay, I want to see what's under
that wardrobe door.
SEVERAL ANGLES
As the ROV deploys its MANIPULATOR ARMS and starts moving
debris aside. A lamp is lifted, its ceramic colors as bright
as they were in 1912.
Easy, Lewis. Take it slow.
Lewis grips a wardrobe door, lying at an angle in a corner,
and pulls it with Snoop's gripper. It moves reluctantly in a
cloud of silt. Under it is a dark object. The silt clears
and Snoop's cameras show them what was under the door...
Ooohh daddy-oh, are you seein' what
I'm seein'?
CLOSE ON LOVETT
Watching his monitors. By his expression it is like he is
seeing the Holy Grail.
Oh baby baby baby.
(grabs the mike)
It's payday, boys.
ON THE SCREEN
In the glare of the lights, is the object of their quest: a
small STEEL COMBINATION SAFE.
EXT. STERN OF DECK OF KELDYSH - DAY
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 hand-wringing 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.
Who's the best? Say it.
You are, Lewis.
(to the video crew)
You rolling?
CAMERAMAN
Rolling.
Brock nods to his technicians, and they set about drilling
the safe's hinges. During this operation, Brock amps the
suspense, working the lens to fill the time.
Well, here it is, the moment of truth.
Here's where we find out if the time,
the sweat, the money spent to charter
this ship and these subs, to come
out here to the middle of the North
Atlantic... were worth it. If what
we think is in that same... is in
that safe... it will be.
Lovett grins wolfishly in anticipation of his greatest find
yet. The door is pried loose. It clangs onto the deck. Lovett
moves closer, peering into the safe's wet interior. A long
moment then... his face says it all.
Shit.
You know, boss, this happened to
Geraldo and his career never
recovered.
(to the video cameraman)
Get that outta my face.
INT. LAB DECK, PRESERVATION ROOM - DAY
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.
You send out what I tell you when I
tell you. I'm signing your paychecks,
not 60 minutes. Now get set up for
the uplink.
Buell covers the phone and turns to Lovett.
BUELL
The partners want to know how it's
going?
How it's going? It's going like a
...
Syriusz16