mov_scene167.jpg (7704 bytes)298 EXT. LIFEBOATS / OPEN SEA - DAWN

Golden light washes across the white boats, which gloat in a calm sea reflecting the rosy sky. All around them, like a flotilla of sailing ships, are icebergs. The CARPATHIA sits nearby, as boats row toward her.



IMAGES DISSOLVE into one another: a ship's 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, part aching song of love lost forever.

mov_scene168.jpg (6853 bytes)THE IMAGES CONTINUE to music... Rose, outside of time, outside of herself, coming into Carpathia, barely able to stand... Rose being draped with 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 doctor's 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.


You won't find any of your people back here, sir. It's all steerage.

Cal ignores him and goes amongst this wrecked group, looking under shawls and blankets at one bleak face after another.

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.


Yes, I lived. How awkward for you.


Rose... your mother and I have been looking for you--

She holds up her hand, stopping him.


Please don't. Don't talk. Just listen. We will make a deal, since that is something you understand. From this moment you do not exist for me, nor I for you. You shall not see me again. And you will not attempt to find me. In return I will keep my silence. Your actions last night need never come to light, and you will get to keep the honor you have carefully purchased.

She fixes him with a glare as cold and hard as the ice which changed their lives.


Is this in any way unclear?



(after a long beat)

What do I tell your mother?



Tell her that her daughter died with the Titanic.


She stands, turning to the rail. Dismissing him. We see Cal stricken with emotion.


You're precious to me, Rose.



Jewels are precious. Goodbye, Mr. Hockley.

We see that in his way, the only way he knows, he does truly love her.

After a moment, he turns and walks away.


That was the last time I ever saw him. He married, of course, and inherited his millions. The crash of 28 hit his interests hard, and he put a pistol in his mouth that year. His children fought over the scraps of his estate like hyenas, or so I read.

301 ANGLE ON ROSE, at the railing of the Carpathia, 9pm April 18th. She gazes up at the Statue of Liberty, looking just as it does today, welcoming her home with her glowing torch. It is just as Fabrizio saw it, so clearly, in his mind.

302 LATER CARPATHIA DISCORGES 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 of 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.

The officer steers her toward a holding area for processing. Rose walks forward with the dazed immigrants. The BOOM! of photographer's magnesium flashes cause them to flinch, and the glare is blinding. There is a sudden disturbance near her as two men burst through the cordon, running to embrace an older woman along the survivors, who cries out with joy. The reporters converge on this emotional scene, and flashes explode.

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.


Can you exchange one life for another? A caterpillar turns into a butterfly. If a mindless insect can do it, why couldn't I? Was it any more unimaginable than the sinking of the Titanic?

TRACKING WITH HER as she walks away, further and further until she flashes and the roar are far behind her, and she is till walking, determined.



Old Rose sits with the group in the Imaging Shack, lit by the blue glow of the screens. She holds the hair comb with the jade butterfly on the handle in her gnarled hands.


We never found anything on Jack. There's no record of him at all.


No, there wouldn't be, would there? And I've never spoken of him until now, not to anyone.

(to Lizzy)

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.




The Mir submersibles make their last pass over the ship. We hear Yuri the pilot on the UQC:


Mir One returning to surface.

The sub rises off the deck of the wreck, taking its light with it, leaving the Titanic once again it its fine and private darkness.



A desultory wrap 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.


I'm sorry.



We were pissin' in the wind the whole time.


Lovett notices a figure move through the lights far down at the stern of the ship.



Oh shit.




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 LOVETT 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.

LOVETT AND LIZZY run up behind her.


Grandma, wait!! Don't--

ROSE TURNS her head, looking at them. She turns further, and we see she has something in her hand, something she was about to drop overboard.

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.


Don't come any closer.



You had it the entire time?!


FLASH CUT TO: A SILENT IMAGE OF YOUNG ROSE walking away from Pier 54. The photographers' flashes go off like a battle behind her. She has her hands in her pockets. She stops, feeling something, and pulls out the necklace. She stares at it in amazement.

BACK ON KELDYSH, Rose smiles at Brock's incomprehension.


The hardest part about being so poor, was being so rich. But every time I though of selling it, I thought of Cal. And somehow I always got by without his help.

She holds it out over the water. Bodine and a couple of the other guys come up behind Lovett, reacting to what is in Rose's hand.


Holy shit.


Don't drop it Rose.



(a fierce whisper)

Rush her.



(to Bodine)

It's hers, you schmuck.

(to her)

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 onto it when it is... we're not dealing with logic here, I know that... but please... think about this a second.


I have. I came all the way here so this could go back where it belongs.

The massive diamond glitters. Brock edges closer and holds out his hand...


Just let me hold it in my hand, Rose. Please. Just once.

He comes closer to her. It is reminiscent of Jack slowly moving up to her at the stern of Titanic.

Surprisingly, she calmly places the massive stone in the palm of his hand, while still holding onto the necklace. Lovett 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.


My God.

His grip tightens on the diamond.

He looks up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes are suddenly infinitely wise and deep.


You look for treasures in the wrong place, Mr. Lovett. Only life is priceless, and making each day count.

His fingers relax. He opens them slowly. Gently she slips the diamond out of his hand. He feels it sliding away.

Then, with an impish little grin, Rose tosses the necklace over the rail. Lovett gives a strangled cry and rushes to the rail in time to see it hit the water and disappear forever.


Aww!! That really sucks, lady!

Brock Lovett goes through ten changes before he settles on a reaction... HE LAUGHS. He laughs until the tears come to his eyes. Then he turns to Lizzy.


Would you like to dance?

Lizzy grins at him and nods. Rose smiles. She looks up at the stars.

308 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 at the surfline. The Santa Monica pier, with its roller coaster 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.



310 THE WRECK OF TITANIC looms like a ghost out of the dark. It is lit by a kind of moonlight, a light of the mind. We pass over the endless forecastle deck to the superstructure, moving faster than subs can move... almost like we are flying.

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 chandelier. 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.