DEEP RISING

formerly known as TENTACLE

by Steven Sommers & Robert Mark Kamen

extended revisions by Robert Mark Kamen

 

Revised Draft

Jan. 1st, 1996

 

- - -

 

       OPEN TO:

 

       A FLASH OF LIGHTNING rips the HOLLYWOOD PICTURES LOGO away, and we

       find ourselves in the middle of...

 

1     EXT. STORMY SEA - NIGHT

 

       SUPERIMPOSED: SOUTH CHINA SEA

 

       The dark blue waters roil and boil and foam. THUNDER CRACKS. LIGHTING

       FLASHES.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

2     EXT. UNDERWATER - NIGHT

 

       An enourmous Japanese BATHYSCAPHE free-falls through the water. An

       autonomous fifteen-man submersible. Almost futuristic in its design.

       The nose cone is an amazing ultra-high-pressure plexi-dome. LETTERING

       along the side tells us this is the "SHINKAI 90000."

 

       COMPUTER PRINTED across the SCREEN are the WORDS:

 

              ASSIGNMENT:            GEOLOGICAL EXPLORATION.

                                   SUB-OCEANIC SEISMIC RESEARCH.

                                   TECTONIC PLATE SURVEILLANCE.

 

              ADDENDUM:        ABOUT TO BREAK THE WORLD'S RECORD

                                   FOR THE DEEPEST DIVE...

 

3     INT. SHINKAI 9000 - NIGHT

 

       The JAPANESE CAPTAIN watches a DLD laser tracking system and barks

       one-word questions to his JAPANESE CREW. The Sailors work the consoles

       and give clipped monosyllabic answers.

 

       The JAPANESE SCIENCE OFFICERS go over charts on the electronic

       position board, a contiuously-shifting graphic representation of the

       ocean contours below.

 

       Behind them is an elaborate DEPTH GAUGE with computerized graphics.

       READ: 34,000 feet and dropping. The Crew works at a fevered pitch.

 

       An ALARM SOUNDS as the depth gauge sounds 35,000 feet. All eyes on the

       depth gauge. Several Science Officers share excited looks.

 

4     INSERT ON THE DEPTH GAUGE: 35,100 -- 35,200 -- 35,300 -- 35,400...

 

       The excitment builds. Even the Captain's weathered eyes widen. And

       then, as the depth gauge hits 35,801 feet below sea level, the entire

       Crew breaks into CHEERS, WHOOPS, HANDSHAKES AND HIGH-FIVES.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

5     EXT. SHINKAI 9000 - NIGHT

 

       As it continues its descent, it passes corroding metal drums leaking

       toxic waste, radioactive waste, dumped in the depths, away from prying

       eyes, and populated areas.

 

       The vessel drops into the SULU BASIN. Imagine the Grand Canyon under

       forty thousand feet of water. But the Sulu Basin is ten times the size

       of the Grand Canyon. Down here, ten thousand fathoms below the storm,

       all is calm.

 

       The dual TURBO-PROPS on the ear of the submersible KICK ON. The

       Bathysaphe is now mobile. It glides down the side of an enormous rock

       face, carefully avoiding massive sandstone pinnacles which jut up from

       the ocean floor far below.

 

                                                               DISSOLVE TO:

 

6     EXT. DEEP SEA - NIGHT

 

       THE SHINKAI hovers near a gigantic tectonic plate.

 

       A ROBOTIC ARM extends out from under the plexi-dome. Its "hand" is a

       high-tech LASER CUTTER. It approaches the plate, steadies, then fires

       a direct BLUE BEAM at the bedrock, burns the rock into magma and cuts

       a perfect round pattern.

 

       Another ROBOTIC ARM reaches forward, its CLAW rips out the cut rock

       from inside the pattern, then takes the sample and sets it inside a

       hydro-basket on the submersible's port side.

 

                                                               DISSOLVE TO:

 

7     EXT. MINDINAO DEEP - NIGHT

 

       A desolate, barren, spooky place. Nothing breathes. Nothing lives. Or

       so it would appear. The creepy, foreboding MUSICAL SCORE tells us

       otherwise. The Shinkai ENTERS a huge ROCK FISSURE.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

8     INT. SHINKAI 9000 - NIGHT

 

       The Captain and the Science Officers stare through the plexi-dome and

       out into the freezing, cobalt blue of the PALAWAN TROUGH. The MUSIC

       intensifies as they round each curve. Then, dead ahead, is the end of

       the trough, which is half-blocked by a rock-encrusted embankment. The

       MUSIC builds.

 

       The Shinkai approaches the embankment. Slowly starts to glide up the

       side. The Captain and Science Officers seem mesmerized by all the

       lonely creepiness. They crest the embankment.

 

       And the plexi-domed VIEW FILLS with an unimaginable horror. As far as

       the eye can see, the entire murky landscape is filled with WHALE

       BONES. A valley of death. Cluttered here and there, carelessly flung

       about, are the rusting hulks of several ships. Seemingly ripped apart.

       Clusters of shark cartilage float through the water like white ghosts.

 

       The Captain, the Science Officers and the entire Crew just stare,

       frozen in place by the strage horror before them.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

9     INT. SHINKAI 9000 - NIGHT

 

       The vessel cruises through the valley of death.

 

       Everyone is nervously taking readings, making calculations and

       adjusting equipment. Gone is the excitement and euphoria of the record

       breaking. Several Crewmen cast nervous glances out through the plexi-

       dome. Giant skeletons everywhere.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

10    EXT. SHINKAI 9000 - NIGHT

 

       The Shinkai approaches an eerie-looking rock formation. The robotic

       arm comes out. The laser cutter steadies, aims, then shoots out its

       blue beam and cuts into the rock.

 

       WHOOSH!! A HUGE JET STREAM OF INKY BLOOD BLASTS OUT OF THE FORMATION!

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

11    INT. SHNKAI 9000 - NIGHT

 

       The Captain and the Science Officers recoil as the inky stuff

       envelopes the plexi-dome, completely blotting out the VIEW.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

12    EXT. PALAWAN TROUGH - NIGHT

 

       The Shinkai VANISHES into a huge cloud of inky blood. We HOLD for a

       LONG OMINOUS BEAT. And then, like a slow-motion earthquake, large

       boulders and giant crevices begin to shift in the murky waters. WHALE

       BONES TOPPLE and SCATTER. Several feet under the ancient silt,

       something is coming alive.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

13    INT. SHINKAI 9000 - NIGHT

 

       Everything outside the plexi-dome is still BLACK. Everyone is staring

       at the position board, which shows a large section of the OCEAN FLOOR

       STARTING TO MOVE, its contours incogruous with the rest of the graphic

       representation. The Science Officers look stunned.

 

       The Captain barks commands. The Crew leaps into high gear. Then the

       Captain reverses the trottle, and petal-to-the-metal he starts to back

       out. The inky blood swirls past the plexi-dome.

 

       Then suddenly, and impossibly, the SUBMERSIBLE JERKS TO A HALT.

       Everybody goes ass-over-teacups. EQUIPMENT SHATTERS. SPARKS FLY. GLASS

       BREAKS. Lots of YELLING in Japanese.

 

       The SHINKAI starts to ROCK and SHAKE. Something has a hold on it. More

       EQUIPMENT SHATTERS. Men are thrown about.

 

       Then it stops rocking. The Sailors stop yelling. Everything goes dead

       quiet. Frightened eyes share terror-filled looks. A SOUND is HEARD

       coming from the exterior of the ship, like feet runing across the

       outside of the hull. Very creepy. The HULL starts to MOAN and CREAK

       from an UNSEEN PRESSURE.

 

       And then the sub begins to be crushed like it's a beer can.

 

       The metal HULL TORQUES on all sides. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS

       and SHOOTS. More SPARKS FLY. The STEEL PLATING DIMPLES, CRUMBLES and

       SCREAMS in agony. CHAOS. PANDEMONIUM. And then the SHINKAI IMPLODES. A

       massive CHURNING SWIRL of water, metal and men.

 

                                                               SMASH CUT TO:

 

14    EXT. SOUTH CHINA SEA - SUNSET

 

       THE SAIPAN, a tricked out Jet Foil, built for speed not looks,

       gunmetal blue, lean and mean, rips across the choppy water. The

       Rolling Stones STREETFIGHTING MAN pours out of the jet foil,

       reverberating over the waves, as the CAMERA rushes right at the

       windsheild and into...

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

15    INT. PILOT HOUSE - SUNSET

 

       Stripped down, low frills, high tech...

 

       ...where JOHN T. FINNEGAN, bathed in the last light of day, all taut

       muscle and sinew, all business, with every one of his 38 years etched

       on his rugged, good looking face, is harnessed into the steering

       pylon, wrestling with his steering-sticks, holding the bouncing

       jetfoil steady as he can, hauling ass, propelled, it seems, by the

       music blasting out of four state of the art speakers bolted to the

       metal walls.

 

       Light from the laser imagers plays across Finnegan's face. The face of

       a man in his element, on the edge, in control. He barks commands into

       his RADIO HEADSET.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     How we doing out there?

 

       THROUGH THE WINDSHEILD we see LEILA, a muscular Filipina clambering

       over the foredeck. She's dripping wet. Tough as nails. She turns to

       Finnegan and "mouths" something into her headset. Finnegan flashes her

       his most charming smile.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     Yes, I'm very warm and dry in here,

                     thank you for your concern.

 

       His HEADSET comes alive withe the SOUND of LEILA bitching in an

       unitelligible foreign tounge.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     A raise? I already pay you two bucks

                     a day.

 

       He watches as Leila fights the WIND and SEASPRAY and dogs-tight a

       series of hatch-latches across the foredeck.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     Missed one darling.

 

       Leila turns and gives him a "jerking-off" sign with her hand.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     I love you too.

 

       The Radar Imager suddenly blinks, and goes to black. Dead. Finnegan

       taps on the screen. Nothing. Taps on the console. Still nothing.

       Simutaneously two more imagers shut down. His mouth screws tight.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

16    INT. ENGINE ROOM - NIGHT

 

       Crammed wall to wall with enough horsepower to fly a 747. Pumped out

       of two thumping engines. The domain of a scruffy, shifty-eyed,

       likeable little weasle of a mechanical genius...JOEY PANTUCCI. Wearing

       a mechanic's toolbelt, slung sideways across the hips like a

       gunslinger, singing the theme to "Gilligan's Island" over the engine's

       roar. Way off-key. His hands crammed deep in a tangle of wires. On the

       walls are a few pictures: Of a few major league engines. Of a few

       major league pinups, and a few of Pantucci and Finnegan...together in

       the U.S. Navy...in front of the Saipan in shinier days.

 

                                   PANTUCCI

                            (singing)

                     " -- if not for the courage of the

                     fearless crew -- "

 

       He tugs at the wires.

 

                                   PANTUCCI

                     " -- the Minnow would be lost, the

                     Minowwww would be lost."

 

       Finnegan's voice explodes through his headset...

 

                                   FINNEGAN (V.O.)

                            (radio filtered)

                     PANTUCCI!!

 

       Unperturbed, Pantucci works at the wires.

 

                                   PANTUCCI

                            (into radio)

                     Can we use our indoor voice

                     please...

 

                                   FINNEGAN (V.O.)

                            (radio filtered)

                     I'm flying blind here God damn it!

 

       Pantucci pulls two wires from the tangle.

 

                                   PANTUCCI

                     You trying to make me feel guilty?

 

       He begins to strip the wires with his teeth.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

17    INT. PILOT HOUSE - SUNSET

 

       Finnegan peers out of the windscreen, trying to see ahead of himself.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     Guilty will be the least of what you

                     feel when I run my rig into one of

                     these god damn no name islands! Get

                     me well here!

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

18    INT. ENGINE ROOM

 

       Pantucci twists one wire around another.

 

                                   PANTUCCI

                     All better...

 

19    INT. PILOT HOUSE - SUNSET

 

       The console lights up. The screens come back on line. Finnegan is

       pleased.

 

                                   PANTUCCI (V.O.)

                     Now tell me again...

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

20    INT. ENGINE ROOM

 

       Pantucci works his wrench around an engine mount. And his nervous eyes

       around six men, big, bad men, standing on the far side of the engines

       out in a narrow passage. A Maori(VIVO). Two Assies(MASON and

       MULLIGAN). A Samoan(MAMOOLI). A Chinese(CHIN). And an Aborigine

       (BILLY). Tattooed, armed to the teeth, packed in Kevlar body armor.

       Mercenaries. Who would as soon wring your neck as shake your hand. And

       a sixth man. HANOVER. The obvious leader. Smoother than the rest, but

       still showing the edge of a man risen from their ranks. He consults

       his watch with a growing concern.

 

                                   PANTUCCI

                     ...why we took this job?

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

21    INT. PILOT HOUSE - SUNSET

 

       Finnegan hits a button on his console. The Stones are replaced by the

       first chords of LAYLA.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     If I told you once...I told you a

                     thousand times...

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

22    INT. ENGINE ROOM

 

                                   PANTUCCI

                            (rote)

                     I know...I know...if the cash is

                     there we don't care...

                            (nervous)

                     Finnegan this is as mean a pile of

                     shit as we ever carried...

 

       Pantucci notices Hanover impatiently looking at his watch again, and

       nods for a mas of Assie mean and muscle named MASON to follow him up a

       ladder.

 

                                   PANTUCCI

                     ...and some of it's coming your way.

 

       He quickly pulls out a wrench, slaps it over a bolt and tightens it

       down. The leak stops. He blows on the WRENCH like it's a six-shooter,

       then spins it at the speed of light and holsters it into his toolbelt.

 

                                                               CUT TO:

 

23    INT. PILOT HOUSE - SUNSET

 

       As Finnegan is watching the sea ahead, swathed in the shrieking

       Clapton guitar solos, the hatch opens. Hanover enters, followed by

       Mason, who leaves the hatch door ajar. Finnegan's eyes remain fixed on

       the sea. His ears on the Clapton. Hanover and Mason hold onto any

       available rail as the boat slams over the waves.

 

                                   HANOVER

                     You remember the first time we met

                     Finnegan? I think you were just

                     starting out...smuggling gold off

                     Sumatra for those two Chinese...what

                     did we use to call them?

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     Fok Yu and Fok Yu Two...are we

                     strolling down memory lane for any

                     particular reason?

 

                                   HANOVER

                     No, it just struck me as odd...I

                     don't see you for all these years

                     and you've still got the same tape

                     stuck in the box.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     You know what they say...the

                     classics are eternal.

 

       Hanover looks at the Topo Imager. Holding onto the rail to keep his

       balance as the boat slams over the choppy sea.

 

                                   HANOVER

                     So where are we?

 

       Finnegan points to a spot in the middle of the map.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     Right here...middle of nowhere...

 

                                   HANOVER

                     And where is our point of arrival?

 

       Finnegan points to another spot on the map.

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     Right here...middle of nowhere...and

                     the answer to your question is yes.

 

                                   HANOVER

                     Which question is that?

 

                                   FINNEGAN

                     The one you came up to ask...are we

                     on schedule?

 

                                   HANOVER

                            (to Mason)

                     Take note Mr. Mason...this is why

                     you hire a professional...No

                     whining. No excuses.

&n