BioShock 1x01 The Lighthouse

B I O S H O C K
Episode #101
"The Lighthouse"
Written by
Ryan M. Lange
Based on
"BioShock: Rapture" by John Shirley
rmlwriting@gmail.com 6/7/2019

EXT. THE NORTH ATLANTIC - MORNING
1 1
SUPER: 1948. The North Atlantic.
FADE FROM BLACK:
ROWBOAT OARS SYNCHRONIZE AS THEY PIERCE A COLD AND ICY OCEAN.
WIDE ANGLE: TEN BOATS CROSS CALM OPEN WATERS UNDER FOG COVER.
A LITTLE GIRL (8) in a light blue old-fashioned dress sits
cramped among TEN PEOPLE in one of them. She clutches onto a
STUFFED RABBIT and looks to her MOTHER (35) for reassurance.
Her mother matches her gaze with a smile that insists it’ll
all be okay. She takes her daughter’s hand, then scans the
horizon with optimism as their boats continue to row.
A FUNNELED LIGHT CARVES THROUGH THE THICK FOG FROM AFAR.
It spins in the distance until it becomes clearer that it
belongs to a LIGHTHOUSE LANTERN. The mother leans close to
her daughter and points at it:
MOTHER
It’s alright, little love. Can you
see it? We’re almost there now.
The fog starts to clear itself up and reveal an overcast sky.
WIDE ANGLE: A LIGHTHOUSE RISES FROM A ROCK IN A DESOLATE SEA.
TEN EMPTIED BOATS depart its base. The rock the only visible
land on the horizon -- their CONVOY OF 100 PEOPLE rows ahead.
CUT TO BLACK
SUPER: THREE YEARS EARLIER
INT. ANDREW RYAN’S OFFICE - NIGHT [NEW YORK CITY]
2 2
SUPER: 1945. Park Avenue, New York City.
FADE FROM BLACK:
CHIEF OF SECURITY SULLIVAN (50s) enters into Andrew Ryan’s
corporate office in a long, rain-dampened jacket. A former
detective, he’s bald with resigned eyes. Think J.K. Simmons.
Sullivan finds ANDREW RYAN (40s) standing in front of his
enormous window as he gazes out at the skyline. He dons a
crisply-tailored suit with his dark oily hair slicked back.

He has an intense gaze and defined facial lines. Think Bryan
Cranston. Ryan’s silhouette in the shadows, the only other
source of light is a GREEN-SHADED LAMP upon a glass table.
ANDREW RYAN
... Well then? Do you have them?
SULLIVAN
Both of them, sir.
ANDREW RYAN
Then I suppose let’s get the less
catastrophic report out of the way.
SULLIVAN
As you’d like. The strikes are
continuing at the Kentucky mines
and the Mississippi refinery with
no signs of slowing.
ANDREW RYAN
(sighs)
... We need to be tougher about
these kinds of things, Sullivan.
SULLIVAN
Sir, I’ve sent in strikebreakers
and Pinkertons to get the names on
their leaders, see if we can get
anything on them, but these guys
are persistent. A hard-nosed bunch.
ANDREW RYAN
... And have you been out there in
person? Hm? Did you go to Kentucky
or Mississippi yourself now, Chief?
Because if not, you need not await
permission from me to take personal
action. Not on this!...
(curls lip)
... Unions...
(bitter)
They had a little army of their own
in Russia. They called them Workers
Militias. But do you know who these
strikers truly are? They’re puppets
of the Reds, Sullivan!... That’s
right -- Soviet agents!... And what
is it that they demand? Why -- it’s
better wages and work conditions...
(scoffs)
Leeches. Now, what is all of that
but Socialism?... I had no need of
a union. I made it all my own way.
2.

SULLIVAN
I’ll... see to them myself, sir.
ANDREW RYAN
(ignores him)
I came here from Russia as a boy
after the Bolshies had taken the
place over and ripped it apart...
we barely got out of there alive...
(turns to Sullivan)
I won’t see that sickness spread.
SULLIVAN
No, sir.
ANDREW RYAN
(calms himself)
... And the other report?
(off his look, grave)
It’s true then, isn’t it?
SULLIVAN
(nods reluctantly)
Both cities are nearly entirely
destroyed. Just one bomb apiece.
Sullivan steps closer and opens an ENVELOPE in his hands,
then hands TWO GLOSSY PHOTOS OF BOMBED CITIES over to Ryan.
Ryan holds them up to the window’s twinkling light to make
them out. He finds sharp BLACK-AND-WHITE SNAPS OF THE RUINS
OF HIROSHIMA, as seen from above.
ANDREW RYAN
... Just one bomb for a whole city.
THE GLOSS REFLECTS THE SKYLINE AS IF NEW YORK IS ON FIRE.
SULLIVAN
Our man in the State Department
smuggled these out. Some in the
target cities were... atomized.
Hundreds of thousands gone in
Hiroshima and Nagasaki, with a
great many more to die from flash
and radiation burns. They say that
an equal amount are likely to die
from cancer and radiation sickness
in the next twelve months or so...
ANDREW RYAN
... Cancer? Caused by this weapon?
3.

SULLIVAN
Yes, sir. It’s not confirmed... but
they say that it’s likely, based on
past experiments...
ANDREW RYAN
... I see. And we are certain the
Soviets are developing these now?
SULLIVAN
(nods reluctantly)
They’re working on them.
ANDREW RYAN
..... Two gigantic empires... two
colossal octopi struggling with one
another upon the world stage -- and
each one, equipped with weapons as
monstrous and as powerful as these.
(shakes his head)
... Just one bomb to destroy an
entire city...
(shakes head)
Their bombs will only grow to be
bigger and more powerful in time,
Sullivan. And what do you suppose
will happen to us when they do?
SULLIVAN
Atomic war is what some are sayin’.
ANDREW RYAN
Oh, I feel certain of it! They’ll
destroy us all!...
(simmers)
But... there may be another
possibility available. For some.
(off his look)
I despise what we are becoming as a
civilization, Sullivan. First -- it
was the Bolsheviks. Then Roosevelt.
Truman -- carrying on much of what
Roosevelt began. Tiny men riding on
the backs of the greats... and it
will only stop when the men of
value stand up and say ‘no more’!
Sullivan nods. Ryan eyes him as if wondering if he can be
trusted.
ANDREW RYAN (CONT’D)
... I’ve decided that it’s time,
Sullivan.
(MORE)
4.

A project I was once toying with
will no longer be just a toy, but
rather a grand reality. It entails
its risks -- but it must be done...
and you may as well be the first to
know it will take, perhaps, every
penny I have to make it happen...
(off his look of concern)
At first, it was an experiment...
no more than a hypothesis -- or a
game. I’ve already commissioned the
prints for a smaller version, but
it could be bigger -- much bigger!
(to himself)
... I feel as if this could be the
solution to a gigantic problem...
SULLIVAN
... The union problem?
ANDREW RYAN
No... well, yes. In the long run.
But I had been thinking of a more
pressing problem... such as the
destruction of human civilization.
The problem we all face, Sullivan,
is the inevitability of Atomic War.
And this great problem calls for us
to prepare for a gigantic solution.
(turns to Sullivan)
... I’ve sent out my explorers and
I’ve taken the time to pick my plot
-- but I wasn’t so sure if I’d ever
give the go-ahead. Not until this.
He peers at the photos of the devastation again.
With my solution, Sullivan, we can
escape the mutual destruction these
men in suits who scuttle about in
the halls of government power would
bring us. We are going to build a
brand new world in the one place
that these madmen cannot touch...
SULLIVAN
(”... okay?”)
..... Yes, sir.
(off his silence)
Anything more, sir?...
(off his look)
I mean -- tonight?
(MORE)
5.

If I’m going to go break up those
strikes, then I’d better leave
first thing in the morning.
ANDREW RYAN
Yes, yes, you go and get your rest.
But there will be no rest for me
tonight... I must continue to plan.
Sullivan nods, then takes his chance to exit the room.
Ryan turns away from the window and walks over to his desk.
He DROPS THE PHOTOS IN THE TRASH, then slumps down into his
padded-leather desk chair and reaches in for his TELEPHONE.
But Ryan hesitates to pick it up. He withdraws his hand from
it as a memory starts to resurface.
INT. TRAIN CAR - DAY - FLASHBACK [RUSSIA]
3 3
A YOUNG ANDREI RIANOFSKI stares out of a moving train-car
window in fear as it leaves the platform. He watches his
father’s friend VASILISA as she’s HIT WITH THE BUTT OF A
RIFLE by GUARDS in long green coats with red epaulets.
The GUARDS SHOUT IN RUSSIAN as everything plays fast and
fleeting like flashes in a dream. Vasilisa’s husband DMETRI
watches her fall, then grabs onto the guard’s rifle barrel:
FATHER
(in Russian)
Look away, boy!
But Andrei can’t turn away. BANG! He watches as HIS FATHER’S
FRIEND DMETRI TOPPLES. The guard then aims down at Vasilisa.
Andrei turns and closes his eyes as (O.S.) BANG!
INT. ANDREW RYAN ARMS - OFFICE - NIGHT [NEW YORK CITY]
4 4
CLOSE ON: RYAN SITS IN HIS CHAIR WITH A DOUR EXPRESSION.
ANDREW RYAN
(grumbles)
..... Workers militia...
We PULL BACK from his desk as he finally raises up his
phone’s receiver, then starts to dial up a number.
FADE TO BLACK.
END TEASER
SULLIVAN (CONT'D)
6.

SUPER: BIOSHOCK
RIVETS ARE DRILLED. PRESSURIZED AIR HISSES. WATER CRASHES.
BUBBLES RISE. A WHALE CALLS FROM AFAR. RUSTY METAL GROANS.
INT. ANDREW RYAN ARMS - ELEVATOR - DAY [NYC]
5 5
SUPER: 1946. Andrew Ryan Arms, Fifth Avenue.
FADE FROM BLACK:
BILL MCDONAGH (50s) itches for a cigarette as he rides the
fancy gold-plated elevator to the top of Andrew Ryan Arms.
A BOX OF PIPE FITTINGS under one arm and a TOOLKIT in hand,
he’s a Briton with friendly muttonchops and a stubbly gray
chin. A tough and seasoned engineer. Think Liam Cunningham.
DING! Elevators doors open to reveal a tiny wood-paneled
antechamber that’s hardly wider than the elevator itself.
INT. ANDREW RYAN ARMS - PENTHOUSE ANTECHAMBER - MOMENTS LATER
6 6
McDonagh steps into the room as his toolbox CLANKS against
his leg. An artfully paneled mahogany door to the penthouse
stands ahead, and he can see it has a
BRASS KNOB WITH AN EAGLE EMBOSSED ON IT.
He notices a small METAL GRID on the wall near the doorknob.
McDonagh steps up to the door and tries the knob but finds
it’s locked. He KNOCKS on the door, but there’s no answer.
BILL MCDONAGH
... Ello?..... It’s the plumbin’
contractor! -- From Chinowski’s!
(off silence, projected)
... ‘Ello?...
(corrects himself)
... Hel-lo?...
ANDREW RYAN (O.S.)
(CRACKLES)
That the other plumber, is it?
McDonagh traces the disembodied voice to the metal grid on
the wall, then leans closer to speak into it:
BILL MCDONAGH
... Uh... it is, sir! --
7.

METAL GRID
(SQUEAKS)
No need to shout into the intercom!
He leans away at the FEEDBACK. The PENTHOUSE DOOR CLICKS,
then slides itself into the wall as there’s nobody there.
INT. ANDREW RYAN ARMS - HALLS / SITTING ROOM (CONTINUOUS)
7 7
McDonagh enters a carpeted hall adorned with fine OLD
PAINTINGS. A TIFFANY LAMP glows on an inlaid table as he
continues ahead and into an enormous plush sitting room.
The room holds a luxurious FIREPLACE for its sofas to
surround, along with choice PAINTINGS and a glossy GRAND
PIANO. A lofty display of FRESH FLOWERS in a Chinese jade
vase rests on an intricately carved table. McDonagh eyes a
GOLD SCULPTURE of a satyr chasing an undressed woman as:
ANDREW RYAN (O.S)
The other two are already at work
in back. The main bathroom’s just
through here.
McDonagh turns to see Ryan dressed in a gray suit in an arch
to the next room. He doesn’t recognize the man, but McDonagh
nods and accepts his advice.
McDonagh steps down the hall, then stops and glances back as
a GOLD AND IVORY TELEPHONE CHIMES before a big window. Ryan
answers it with a grunt, then listens a short while before:
(over the phone)
... Eisley, you will not make any
further excuses! If you cannot deal
with these people, then I will find
myself someone who has the courage!
Someone brave enough to scare away
this pack of hungry dogs! They will
not find my campfire undefended!...
McDonagh stops at the end-of-hall junction to see a steel and
white-tile bathroom at the end of another hall.
(over the phone)
Taxes are theft, Eisley!... No, no.
There’s no need to do it, I already
fired her. I’ve got a new secretary
coming up from reception. Elaine...
something...
(OFF INDISTINCT CHATTER)
(MORE)
8.

No, I don’t want someone from
accounting... that’s the whole
problem, isn’t it? Those kinds of
people are too interested in my
money and offer me no discretion.
(OFF LOUDER CHATTER)
... Well, they won’t get a penny
out of me more than is necessary,
and if you can’t see to it, then
I’ll find myself a lawyer who can!
CLANK! Ryan hangs up his phone with force, and McDonagh
hurries his way to the bathroom.
TIME CUT
McDonagh kneels next to the toilet as he uses a SPANNER to
tighten a pipe joint. He senses a presence standing over him
and looks up in surprise to see Ryan standing there.
I didn’t intend to startle you.
(faux smiles)
Just curious as to how you’re
getting along.
BILL MCDONAGH
(resumes work, nods)
... We’re getting on with it, sir.
Soon to have it done.
ANDREW RYAN
(points)
Is that a brass fitting you’re
putting in there? I believe the
other two were using tin...
BILL MCDONAGH
Well, then I’ll be sure they
didn’t, sir. Don’t want me bailing
out your loo once in a fortnight.
Tin’s not reliable, like. And if
it’s the price you’re worried about
-- I’ll pick up the cost of the
brass. So not to worry, squire.
ANDREW RYAN
And why would you do that?
BILL MCDONAGH
... Well... Mr. Ryan...
(narrows eyes, turns)
Because no man bails water out of
privies built by Bill McDonagh.
9.

McDonagh tightens the pipe with his WRENCH one last time.
BILL MCDONAGH (CONT’D)
There you are. Right as the mail.
The pipes now, anyhow...
ANDREW RYAN
You mean the job is done?
BILL MCDONAGH
I’ll see how the lads are getting
on, but I’d say we’re nearly ready
to call it a day here, sir.
McDonagh starts the water flow and checks its integrity. Ryan
hovers as he cleans up his tools, then exhumes a RECEIPT PAD
from a pocket. McDonagh scribbles in it and tears a BILL off.
He offers it to Ryan, who accepts it and raises it up close.
ANDREW RYAN
... Really!...
(off Bill’s silence)
... Why, this is quite reasonable.
You could have stretched your time
or inflated your price, and yet you
didn’t. Most do like to assume they
can take advantage of the wealthy.
BILL MCDONAGH
... I believe in being paid, sir.
Even in being paid well. But only
for the work that I do.
Ryan chuckles, then flashes him a flicker of a smile.
ANDREW RYAN
Well, I see I’ve struck a nerve.
And that’s because you’re a man
like me now, aren’t you?... A man
of pride and capability who knows
who he is.
Ryan turns on his heel and exits back into the hall. McDonagh
hoists up his toolbox, then heads back for the sitting room.
He enters in and finds Ryan as he tears a CHECK out of his
CHECKBOOK, then offers it. McDonagh takes it and reads it.
BILL MCDONAGH
(nods)
Thank you, sir.
10.

He then makes his way back towards the elevator and reaches
the arch to the hallway as:
ANDREW RYAN
Mind if I ask you a question?...
McDonagh stops in the arch and turns to look back in silence.
Where do you think a man’s rights
should end?
BILL MCDONAGH
(confused)
... His rights, sir?
(off his nod, considers)
... Rights are rights. That’s like
asking which fingers a man should
do without. I need all ten of ‘em,
me...
ANDREW RYAN
(tight-lipped smile)
I like that.
(smiles dissipates)
Now... just suppose if you were to
lose one or two fingers? Then what
would you do?... You would think
yourself unable to work, and you’d
have a right to a handout for it,
yes?
BILL MCDONAGH
(shakes head)
... No... I’d find something to do
with my eight fingers. Or four. And
I’d make my own way. I want to use
my talents more, and that’s right
enough. But I don’t take handouts.
ANDREW RYAN
And what talents are those? Not
that I’d discount your gift for
plumbing, but is that what you
mean?
BILL MCDONAGH
No, sir. Not as such. I’m by way of
being an engineer. In a simple way,
mind you. Could be that I’ll start
me own... my own... construction
operation. Not so young anymore,
but still... I see things in my
mind that I’d like to build, and --
11.

ANDREW RYAN
You’re British. Not one of the
gentry types... most certainly.
BILL MCDONAGH
... Right as rain, sir.
(defensive)
‘Grew up round Cheapside, like.
ANDREW RYAN
You’re touchy about your origins.
(chuckles)
I know the feeling. I, too, am an
immigrant. I was rather young when
I came here from Russia, and I’ve
since learned to control my speech.
I reinvented myself -- for a man
must make of his life a ladder he
never ceases to climb. If you are
not rising, you are slipping your
way down those rungs, my friend...
(gestures)
... But by ascending, one creates
one’s own class, you see? Eh?...
One classes oneself!...
BILL MCDONAGH
(honest)
Couldn’t agree more, sir. That’s
why I came over here to the USA.
Anyone can rise their way up out
here... right on up to the top.
ANDREW RYAN
(grunts skeptically)
Yes, and no. There are those who
simply don’t have the stuff. But
it’s not a ‘class’ or race or creed
they were born into that decides...
it’s something inside of a man.
And that something, I see in you.
(points at Bill, nods)
You’re a true mugwump, Billy. A
real individual. We’ll talk again,
you and I...
McDonagh nods back, but he doesn’t believe it for a second.
EXT. SVISLACH RIVER - DAY [MINSK, BELARUS]
8 8
SUPER: Minsk, Belarus.
12.

BRIGID TENENBAUM (20s) sits on the edge of a concrete wharf
that runs along the Svislach River. She wears a shirtwaist
dress and has soft facial features with curly brunette hair.
A TIN LUNCH PAIL rests beside her as she eats part of a
SANDWICH CUT INTO FOUR SQUARES.
She stares at the flowing water below as a large percentage
of the BUILDINGS BEHIND HER ARE MERELY RUBBLE after the war.
A SEAGULL LANDS ON THE WHARF TEN FEET AWAY FROM HER.
Tenenbaum continues to eat as it hops closer. She notices it
doing this, then stops eating. The seagull hops closer again.
Tenenbaum turns away from it and guards her lunch in her lap.
INT. UNEMPLOYMENT OFFICE - DAY - LATER [MINSK]
9 9
Tenenbaum hands her EMPLOYMENT FORMS over to a FEMALE OFFICE
CLERK behind a long counter with numerous CLERKS:
NAME: BRIGID TENENBAUM. SEX: F. AGE: 26. CITY OF BIRTH:
MINSK. NATIONALITY: BELARUSIAN. FIELD OF WORK: GENETICS.
She stands in the line of a temporary post-war unemployment
center that’s taken over an old post office in Minsk.
The clerk examines her forms closely, then starts to cross-
check them with BINDERS OF PAPERWORK on a shelf to her side.
There aren’t many scientists needed in the city right now.
LINES OF PEOPLE step towards the other clerks. CONSTRUCTION
WORKERS with mustaches and coats of oiled dirt take up a few
to themselves as TWO WOMEN carry CRYING BABIES in their arms.
As always, nobody in here wants to be here.
The clerk sighs, then picks up another binder. Tenenbaum sees
an 8-YEAR-OLD GIRL one line over. The girl stares back up at
her with dread as she hides behind her POLISH MOTHER’s skirt.
Tenenbaum smiles at her in an attempt to calm her down... but
this just makes the girl URINATE DOWN HER LEG ONTO THE FLOOR.
The mother realizes this, then kneels to comfort her daughter
in Polish. Tenenbaum catches sight of a few LONG SCARS on the
woman’s hand as she strokes her daughter’s cheek.
The mother sees her daughter’s eyes lock behind her -- and
she turns to find Tenenbaum there. The woman stands as her
skin grows pale, like she’s face to face with a bad memory.
13.

POLISH WOMAN
You!
(shields daughter)
Do not look at her!
Tenenbaum freezes up as people in nearby lines start to look:
POLISH WOMAN (CONT’D)
(to everyone, projected)
Traitor!... Do not help this woman!
She is a killer in disguise! --
Tenenbaum takes a step back up to the counter in fear, then
looks at the clerk with pleading eyes. The clerk hesitates
for a moment, then signals to a SECURITY OFFICER.
POLISH WOMAN (CONT’D)
(to Tenenbaum, incensed)
You think you can hide out in a
Hero City!?... You think that
anyone would forget your face?! --
The officer steps in towards the polish woman:
SECURITY OFFICER
We ask that you calm down or
step outside with me, miss --
POLISH WOMAN (CONT'D)
(ignores him, to
Tenenbaum)
Not yours! After all they did
to your family, and you just
helped them take everyone
else’s! --
SECURITY OFFICER (CONT’D)
(reaches for her)
Miss -- please --
POLISH WOMAN
(pushes hands away)
Get away from me!... This woman
performed experiments on others in
Auschwitz! -- She does not belong!
SECURITY OFFICER
Okay, come with me --
The officer grabs the woman’s arm and pulls her to the exit
with a firm and annoyed grip. The mother reluctantly obeys:
POLISH WOMAN
(as she’s dragged out)
They should have wrung you up at
the trial and hung you out to dry
with all the rest! -- Nazi scum!!
14.

Tenenbaum watches the woman and her daughter disappear from
sight as the doors soon close behind them. The clerk eyes
Tenenbaum with mistrust, and the others glare at her too.
Tenenbaum stands in embarrassment for a moment, then extends
a hand out to the clerk. The clerk hands her paperwork back.
INT. MCDONAGH’S FLAT - BEDROOM - MORNING [NYC]
10 10
A CLANGOROUS BED-SIDE TELEPHONE RINGS.
McDonagh squints and awakens in his low-rent flat’s twin bed.
He yawns, then sits up and answers his telephone’s receiver:
BILL MCDONAGH
Yes?...
SULLIVAN (V.O.)
(over the phone)
This Bill McDonagh?
BILL MCDONAGH
Right enough. Who’s askin’?
SULLIVAN (V.O.)
Name’s Sullivan. Head of Security
for Andrew Ryan.
BILL MCDONAGH
Security?... And what’s ‘e been
sayin’ I’ve done, then?... Look
here, mate -- I’m not a crook, so
you can just go ahead and --
SULLIVAN (V.O.)
Nah, nah. Nothing like that. Boss’
set me to find you. Your old chum
Chinowski said he lost your number
so he could try to take the job for
himself. Had to go get it from our
friends over at the phone company.
BILL MCDONAGH
... Job? What... what job?
SULLIVAN (V.O.)
Well, if you want it... Andrew
Ryan’s offering you employ as his
new building engineer -- starting
immediately.
McDonagh just sits there on his bed in his undergarments.
15.

EXT. NEW YORK CITY DOCKS - EVENING
11 11
Sullivan wanders past misty New York docks that house THREE
FREIGHTERS. He peeks over shoulder and bundles against the
Spring cold as WAVES CRASH DOWN and SEAGULLS huddle together.
Sullivan makes his way for the gangplank of THE OLYMPIAN --
the largest of the tankers. He waves at PINELLI, an armed
guard at the top of the plank, who nods for him to continue.
Sullivan looks the way he came to see a MAN (50s) in a slouch
hat and trench coat seventy yards off who pretends to analyze
cracked boat moorings.
He steps onto the plank as RUBEN GREAVY (50s) awaits him at
the top -- a bespectacled engineer in a cream-colored coat.
Think Jared Harris. The men shake hands.
RUBEN GREAVY
Sullivan.
SULLIVAN
Professor.
RUBEN GREAVY
(frazzled)
... How many times... I’m not a
professor. I have a doctorate in...
(off his disinterest)
... Never mind...
(looks over shoulder)
You know there’s someone shadowing
you over on the docks back there?
SULLIVAN
(looks back, shrugs)
... Eh, it’s a different gumshoe
this time. Maybe the FBI or IRS.
(turns his collar up)
Kinda chilly out here.
RUBEN GREAVY
Let’s take a walk, shall we?
The two step off along a companionway towards Greavy’s cabin.
INT. THE OLYMPIAN - GREAVY’S QUARTERS - EVENING
12 12
Sullivan follows Greavy into a tiny oval cabin with a narrow
bed and a table covered in SKETCHES, BLUEPRINTS, and DESIGNS.
Many look like London and Manhattan hatched cathedral babies.
16.

Greavy reaches under his pillow and removes a BOTTLE OF
BRANDY, then pours each of them a slug in a glass. Sullivan
eases his down as Greavy’s eyes are caught on the prints.
RUBEN GREAVY
We need to be ready for any kind of
raid they might throw our way...
SULLIVAN
Well, with any luck Ryan’ll get the
place finished before they can come
screwin’ with us. The foundation’s
already been laid. Power’s flowing,
right? Most of the stuff’s in place
or out on those support ships. Just
a few more shipments left to go --
Greavy pours a second glass without offering Sullivan one,
which Sullivan certainly notices.
RUBEN GREAVY
(snorts)
You have no idea of the work or the
risk. It’s enormous. It’s the very
soul of innovation. And I need more
men! We’re already behind schedule.
(shakes head)
I don’t want to see his face if --
SULLIVAN
You’ll get more men. Soon. He’s
hired a new man to supervise the,
uh -- ‘foundational work’. Goes by
the name of McDonagh. Intends to
put him right on the North Atlantic
project once he’s proven himself.
RUBEN GREAVY
... McDonagh? Never heard of him.
Don’t tell me he’s another one of
those apples picked from an orange
tree?
SULLIVAN
A what?
RUBEN GREAVY
(sighs)
You know Ryan... has his own grand
notions of how to go about picking
all his men. Sometimes they can be
remarkable, truly. And other times,
well... other times they’re just
strange.
17.

SULLIVAN
(scowls)
You mean like me?
RUBEN GREAVY
(dismissive)
No, no, no...
Sullivan eyes him with distrust, then sighs.
SULLIVAN
... So the government thinks Ryan’s
hiding something ‘cause he’s trying
to keep them from finding out where
his shipments are going to and what
for. And he is hiding something...
but it’s just not what they think.
Greavy reaches for the blueprints and shuffles through:
RUBEN GREAVY
Well, the strategic value of such a
construction is rather significant
in a world where we’re likely to go
toe-to-toe with the Soviets. Mr.
Ryan doesn’t want any outsiders
going down there to report on what
he’s building, and understandably
so. He wants to run it his way --
without interference, ‘specially
once it’s all set up. That’s the
whole point now, isn’t it? Or to be
more accurate -- he wants to set it
up to run itself. Let the laissez-
faire principle roam free. And he
figures that if governments know
about it -- they’ll infiltrate.
Then... there’s the union types.
The communist organizers. Suppose
they were to worm their way in?...
(shakes head)
The only way to keep people like
that out is to keep it all a secret
from them. Mr. Ryan doesn’t want
outsiders to learn about some of
his new technology there either.
You’d be amazed at what he’s got...
new inventions he could patent and
make a fortune on -- but he’s been
holding back. All for this project.
SULLIVAN
And where’s he been getting all
these new inventions?
18.

RUBEN GREAVY
He’s been recruiting people for
years. Who do you think it is who
designs those new dynamos of his?
SULLIVAN
(looks into empty glass)
... Well, it’s his call. You’ve
worked for him twice as long as I
have, and he don’t tell me shit...
RUBEN GREAVY
... He likes the details to be
compartmentalized on this sort of
project. Keeps a better secret...
Sullivan crosses over to a PORTHOLE and peers out. He watches
the G-man pace over to The Olympian then eye it up and down.
SULLIVAN
Son of a bitch is still out there.
Doesn’t seem to be empowered to do
anything but ogle the ship.
RUBEN GREAVY
I’ve got to go ahead and meet with
the Wales brothers. You know what
they’re like... artists. All too
aware of their own genius...
(frowns at blueprints)
... Unless there is anything to
share besides this new man that
Ryan’s taken on?
SULLIVAN
Who? Oh, McDonagh? No. I’m here to
confirm the time you ship out. Ryan
wanted me to head down and see you
off myself. He’s starting to think
they might be listening to his
telephones somehow. I’m thinking if
you can leave before midnight
tonight, then that’s better off.
RUBEN GREAVY
I’ll be gone once the captain’s
back. Should be under an hour.
SULLIVAN
Just leave here as soon as you can.
Maybe they’ll get a warrant for us
after all.
(MORE)
19.

Wouldn’t find themselves anything
illegal, but if Ryan wants to keep
them from knowing what he’s doing,
then the less they see, the better.
RUBEN GREAVY
(chuckles)
And who could possibly imagine what
he’s up to? Jules Verne? Certainly
not any of these drones over at the
IRS...
(off his look)
Sullivan -- one thing I can assure
you of is that Ryan is correct. If
they knew the truth of what he has
in mind here, then they would be
worried. Particularly so, if you
consider how little help he gave
the Allies during the war...
SULLIVAN
He didn’t take a side. Didn’t care
for Hitler or the Japs, neither...
RUBEN GREAVY
... Still... he’s shown no special
loyalty to the United States. And
who could blame him?... Look at the
wreckage this ant society has made
of Europe for the second time this
century. And all of the horrors of
Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I can’t
wait to leave all that behind...
Greavy sits up to escort Sullivan to his cabin door.
RUBEN GREAVY (CONT’D)
What Ryan has every intention of is
to create something that will grow.
At first, across the seabed -- and
in time -- above the surface, once
these ‘nations’ have done such
damage to themselves that they no
longer post a threat. Until then,
he is right to mistrust them all.
Because he is creating something
that will compete with them all. A
whole new society, yes, indeed...
and in time -- an entire new world.
One which will utterly replace the
vile and squirming ant-heap that
humanity has let itself become...
SULLIVAN (CONT'D)
20.

INT. THE CLANGER BAR - OFFICE - EVENING
13 13
FRANK GORLAND (O.S.)
Merton?
HARV MERTON (60s) gapes up at Gorland from behind his beer-
stained desk in The Clanger’s smoky office. A skinny man with
a large round head, he wears a turtleneck and a bowler hat.
Think William Sanderson.
FRANK GORLAND (CONT’D)
(jabs thumb over shoulder)
... Get outta my bar.
FRANK GORLAND (40s) looms there in his overcoat as he runs a
hand over his prickly bald head. He has an intense gaze and
speaks with a thick Brooklyn accent. Think Bobby Cannavale.
HARV MERTON
... Whatta hell ya mean, your bar?
Merton tamps a CIGARETTE out in his ashtray as Gorland
smiles, then leans against the office door.
FRANK GORLAND
... I’m the owner of it, ain’t I?
As of tonight I am, anyhow.
HARV MERTON
(indignant)
Whatta hell ya mean you’re the
owner?
FRANK GORLAND
... You know any other expressions
besides whatta hell? You’re about
to sign this bar on over to me, is
whatta hell...
Gorland removes PAPERS from his coat and hands them over to
Merton. They read HUDSON LOANS at the top and detail a BILL
OF SALE with HARV’S DRUNKEN SIGNATURE SIGNED AT THE BOTTOM.
That look familiar? You signed it.
HARV MERTON
That was you?... Hudson Loans?
Nobody told me that was --
FRANK GORLAND
A loan is a loan, Merton. What I
seem to recall is, you were drunk
when you signed it.
(MORE)
21.

Needed some money to pay off your
gambling vig. And a big fucking vig
it was, too...
HARV MERTON
... You were there that night?...
But I... I don’t remember --
FRANK GORLAND
You remember getting the money,
don’t you?
HARV MERTON
... It... it don’t count if I was
drunk!
FRANK GORLAND
Merton... if there was no business
done drunk in this town, then half
of its business wouldn’t get done.
HARV MERTON
I’m thinkin’ you put something in
my drink! That’s what I think! The
next morning I was ill and pale --
FRANK GORLAND
You cashed the check, didn’t you?
Eh? So stop whining. You got the
loan, you couldn’t pay interest,
and time’s up. Now it’s all mine!
(gestures to papers)
It’s all there in black and white.
This dump was your collateral.
HARV MERTON
(timid)
Look... Mr. Gorland... don’t think
I mean you any disrespect. Now I
know you done hustled... I mean,
uh... worked your way into a good
thing or two, this end of town...
(off his scowl)
... But you can’t just come and
take another man’s bidness.
FRANK GORLAND
... I can’t?... Well, it’s a good
thing my attorneys sure can, then.
They’ll come after your ass hammer
and tongs, pal. Hammer, Tongs, and
Klein -- attorneys at law!
Gorland laughs a hearty laugh as Merton sees he’s cornered.
FRANK GORLAND (CONT'D)
22.

HARV MERTON
Okay, okay. Whatta ya want from me?
FRANK GORLAND
(shakes head)
Not what I want. What I’m taking.
(off his look)
I told you already. I want the bar!
I own a bookkeeping operation... I
own a drugstore. But hey... I don’t
own a bar! Not yet, I don’t. And I
like The Clanger. Lots of dirt here
on the fights too, what with the
boxin’ setup and all. It could
prove to be useful. Now, you go
ahead and you call that fatass
bartender of yours in here and tell
him that he’s got a new boss.
INT. THE CLANGER BAR - EVENING [NEW YORK CITY]
14 14
DUKE ELLINGTON’S “A SLIP OF THE LIP” SPINS ON A 40’S JUKEBOX.
DING!-DING! A BOXING BELL DINGS ON A WALL BEHIND THE BAR.
A NEW KEG is tapped with German-style brews. PATRONS CHEER as
many wait in line to fill their mugs. They CLINK, then drink.
The cave-like Clanger is decorated with WORN-OUT BOXING
GLOVES -- FRAYED ROPES from rings -- and BLACK-AND-WHITE
PHOTOS OF OLD-TIME BOXERS like John L. Sullivan.
Gorland and an Irish bartender MULROONEY (60s) serve at the
ends of the bar. Gorland listens in on his patrons -- cleans
DIRTY MUGS with a BAR RAG -- and serves more and more DRINKS.
THE WEEKS PASS BY... and we PULL BACK FROM THE JUKEBOX as it
NOW SPINS AN ERNIE WHITMAN BIG-BAND CUT. TWITCHY AND “SNORT”
BIANCHI (40s) sit at the bar as Gorland tends it nearby.
TWITCHY
... But can we count on Steele?...
Thinks he’s about to challenge The
Bomber next year...
Twitchy is thin with a pencil-thin mustache he twitches
between his fingers, while Bianchi is a chunkier Italian.
“SNORT” BIANCHI
So let him challenge. He can lose
one fight. He needs the payoff, and
he needs this one big...
23.

Snort snorts, then sees Gorland listening over the CROWD.
“SNORT” BIANCHI (CONT’D)
Hey bartender! There’s a broad over
there trying to get a drink. How’s
about you fuck off and serve ‘er!
FRANK GORLAND
I’m not just your bartender. I’m
the owner here, gents. You want to
come back inside again, then show
some respect for the establishment.
(looks past them)
..... Psst...
(leans closer)
Maybe you two should go and, uh...
take a powder... if these here feds
are looking for you.
He nods to the door as they notice SPECIAL AGENT VOSS (40s),
a flatfoot in a gray snap-brim and overcoat. Voss glances
around as he sticks out like a sore thumb. Think Jay Karnes.
Bianchi and Twitchy slip out of the back door before Voss
approaches the bar. He reaches for a pocket as if to show ID:
... No need for the badge, Voss.
Still haven’t forgotten you.
SPECIAL AGENT VOSS
Word on the street is, this here
joint is yours now...
FRANK GORLAND
That’s right. Lock, stock, and
leaky barrels.
VOSS
That so?
(sour)
So what you been calling yourself
these days? Gorland still, right?
FRANK GORLAND
My name is Frank Gorland. You know
that.
VOSS
(shakes head)
That’s not the name you had when we
tried to connect you to that
interstate bookmaking op...
24.

FRANK GORLAND
You wanta see my birth certificate?
VOSS
Our man’s already seen it. Says
maybe it’s been forged.
FRANK GORLAND
Yeah? But he’s not sure, eh?...
(shakes his head)
Not much of an expert then, is he?
VOSS
(snorts)
..... You got that right. Now are
you gonna offer me a drink or not?
FRANK GORLAND
Bourbon?
VOSS
Good guessin’.
Gorland grabs the necessities, then pours Voss a DOUBLE SHOT.
FRANK GORLAND
... You didn’t come here to cadge
drinks with me now, did you?
VOSS
(slugs his drink)
Got that one right, too. I figure
you’re gonna hear some good stuff
in a place like this. And if you
give me something sweet to chew on
every now and again... we might be
able to lay off finding out who the
hell you really are.
FRANK GORLAND
(chuckles, plays coy)
... If I tip you, it’s because I’m
a good citizen. No other reason.
(curious)
Anything special that’s going on?
Voss sets his drink down and stews it over.
VOSS
You hear anything about some kind
of big, secret project happening
down at those docks? One that’s
maybe been bankrolled by Andrew
Ryan? A North Atlantic Project?
(MORE)
25.

Millions and millions of bucks just
flowing on out there to the sea...
FRANK GORLAND
(interested, shakes head)
Nah...
(off his dissapointment)
But if I do, I’ll let you know.
What kinda deal’s he been up to?
VOSS
... That’s something we don’t...
something you don’t get to know.
FRANK GORLAND
(leans in)
Look. You’re killing my back here
with this. Listen, I gotta make it
look like... you know.
Voss seems to understand him well enough. He nods.
... Listen here, flatfoot! You
won’t find anything out from me!
Now charge me with something, or go
ahead and buzz off outta my place!
Voss gets up from his seat as a few patrons take notice.
VOSS
You better watch your step,
Gorland.
Voss adjusts his tie, then turns and leaves the bar. Gorland
watches him go for posterity, then heads off to his office.
INT. THE CLANGER BAR - EVENING
15 15
Gorland tends the bar alone a few nights later as a DRUNK
BLONDE CHIPPIE (30s) frantically waves an EMPTY GLASS in his
direction. She slurs as she impatiently awaits his arrival:
BAR BLONDIE
Mr. Fat-Cat Ryan... god damn him!
(waves drink faster)
... Hey, wherezmuh drinkie at?!
Gorland finishes serving TWO SAILORS with white caps arguing
over bar dice, then turns to her and steps in to help.
FRANK GORLAND
What’re you havin’, darlin’?
VOSS (CONT'D)
26.

BAR BLONDIE
(rolls her eyes)
... What’m I havin’, he sez!...
The blonde gives him a sheepish look... then starts to sob.
The sequins on her secondhand silver-blue gown are slip off
her shoulder straps as half her bosom is near exposed.
BAR BLONDIE (CONT’D)
I’ll have a Scotch if I can’t have
my man back... that’s what I’ll
have!... Just dead, dead, dead...
and no one from that Ryan crew
sayin’ nothin’ about the why...
FRANK GORLAND
... Lost your man now, didja?
That’ll get you a big one on the
house, sweet cakes.
Gorland sits behind the bar and reaches for a BOTTLE and a
SHOT GLASS. He pours her a DOUBLE SCOTCH.
BAR BLONDIE
Go on now, spritz some goddamn soda
in there too! Whatya think, I’m a
lush ‘cause I take a free drink?!
Gorland gives her a spritz of soda, as requested, while a
quieter DORSEY AND SINATRA CROONER POPS ONTO THE JUKEBOX.
FRANK GORLAND
Soda it is, darlin’. There you go.
BAR BLONDIE
(sobs harder)
... I just want my Irving back...
(sobs even harder)
... Jus’ wannim back...
FRANK GORLAND
What’s become of the unfortunate
soul? Lost at sea now, was he?...
BAR BLONDIE
(gawps)
... How’d you know about that?...
Are you a mind reader?
FRANK GORLAND
(winks)
A little fishy told me.
27.

BAR BLONDIE
... So then you heard about Ryan’s
little fun show! My Irving shipped
out there with hardly a g’bye...
just said he had to do some kinda
important diving for them Ryan
people. That’s where he was getting
all a’ his lettuce, see... what
they call those deep-sea dives.
(wipes tears)
Learned it in the navy salvage.
Said it was pennies from heaven.
Just a month at sea doin’ some
kinda underwater building, then --
FRANK GORLAND
Underwater building? You mean like
pylons for some kind of dock?
BAR BLONDIE
I dunno about that. But I tell ya,
he came back from there the first
time real spooked. Wouldn’t talk
about it. Said it was as much as
his life was worth to talk, see?...
But Irv did tell me one thing...
(off his look)
Them ships over at dock 17, they’re
hidin’ something from the feds, and
he was plenty scared about it. What
if he was onto somethin’ criminal,
not even knowin’ it, and then he
took the fall?!
(distressed)
And then... then I get myself a
telegram... a little piece of
paper... sayin’ that he ain’t even
comin’ back. Accident on the job.
Buried at sea. Like that’s that.
But that’s the end of my Irving...
(head wags)
And I’m supposed to just swallow
that? Uh-uh. Well, I went over to
Seaworthy Construction where he was
hired at, and they threw me out!
Treated me like I was some kinda
tramp! When all I wanted was what
was comin’ to me...
(huffs)
I come out of South Jersey, and let
me tell you, we get whatever it is
we’re owed, because if you try to
get between us? Oh-ho, now --
(MORE)
28.

(shakes head)
Don’t. Don’t you even dare it...
Gorland tunes out the rest of her words as his mind wanders
to how he’s going to get into Seaworthy Construction.
INT. BOXING PREP ROOM - NIGHT
16 16
Gorland chews on a toothpick as he steps into a sweat-reeking
prep room in a striped suit and a toupee. He finds a scarred
and barrel-chested STEELE (30s) sitting on a rubdown table.
Steele’s BOXING GLOVES are being laced up by a BLACK TRAINER
as Gorland approaches. He hands the man a FIVE-DOLLAR BILL:
FRANK GORLAND
(Little Italy accent)
I’ll tie his gloves on for ‘im,
bud.
The trainer takes the bill from him and leaves the room.
Steele eyes Gorland as he considers where to punch him.
(chews toothpick)
I’m Lucio Fabrici. Bianchi sent me.
STEELE
Bianchi? What for? I told him it
was a done deal an hour back...
(off Gorland’s glare)
Look here, Fabrici... if Bianchi’s
gonna welsh on my cut, then I won’t
take it! This is hard enough on me!
FRANK GORLAND
You ever hear of a triple cross,
kid? Bianchi’s changed his mind.
(leans in, quietly)
Bianchi doesn’t want you to throw
the fight... but we’ve already let
it out that you’re throwing it so
we can bet on you the other way.
See? You’ll get your cut of the
proceeds twice over.
BANG-BANG-BANG! -- Someone BANGS on the other side of the
door as the MUFFLED CROWD CHEER by the ring grows louder.
STEELE
... You mean it? Say, that’s swell!
I’ll knock that lug’s socks right
off of him if that’s what it takes.
BAR BLONDIE (CONT'D)
29.

Steele SMACKS his boxing gloves together, then heads for the
door. Gorland beams as he watches him go:
FRANK GORLAND
You do that, Steele! I hear ‘em
calling you! Get out there and nail
him early -- first chance you get!
Make it a knockout in the first!
STEELE
Go tell Bianchi I’ll deliver him a
KO in the first round, and how. Ha!
INT. DRUGSTORE BASEMENT - LATER
17 17
Gorland sits in the room behind the BETTING COUNTERS of a
drugstore basement with his chief bookie GARCIA (40s), a
chubby Cuban man in a three-piece suit. Their pal MORRY
(60s) tends the counter as Gorland leans back and chats.
GARCIA
(shakes head)
I dunno, boss. I get how knowing
he’s throwing the fight’ll get us
paid off if we place bets with our
own guys, but... I just don’t see
how you’re gonna make the kind of
money you’re talking about here.
FRANK GORLAND
‘Cause he isn’t going to throw the
fight, genius. All the smart mob
money’ll be on him losing -- and
that’s why we bet on him winning.
Take ‘em big-time with a surprise!
GARCIA
(concerned)
... They’ll take it outta Steele’s
hide, boss...
FRANK GORLAND
And how’s that my worry?
(off his blank look)
You just make sure the mob’s up to
their neck betting against Steele.
They’re gonna be a bunch of sad
little monkeys when they lose --
but they won’t trace it back to us.
(off his head shake)
(MORE)
30.

If you see Harley, you tell him to
keep an eye on that poker game up
at the hotel. I got some real big-
money suckers comin’ through...
Gorland stands and approaches Morry to have a look at his
take as he overhears TWO DECKHANDS (20s/30s) with tattoos
sharing a FLASK. They both wear watch caps and pea-jackets.
DECKHAND
(to deckhand)
Sure -- Ryan’s on a hiring frenzy
down there. It’s one hot ticket,
pal... big paydays. Problem is,
there’s some real QT stuff going
on. Can’t talk about the job none,
and it’s a dangerous one. Somewhere
in the North Atlantic, Iceland way.
Gorland’s ears prick up at the mention, and he slips out of
the side door as quickly as he can.
EXT. DRUGSTORE - MOMENTS LATER
18 18
Gorland waits outside as the deckhands exit the store, then
head for the docks. They whistle at a GROUP OF GIRLS SMOKING
CIGARETTES across the street and don’t notice Gorland as he
follow after them.
EXT. DOCKSIDE STREET - MOMENTS LATER
19 19
Gorland trails them through fog to the dockside, then hangs
in the shadow of a door. He watches as the deckhands board
one of the freighters -- then notices THE OLYMPIAN further
down the row with heavy activity as it prepares to cast off.
Gorland sees a G-MAN SMOKING A PIPE in the lee of a stack of
crates near the loading dock, just out of earshot of TWO MEN
ARGUING INDISTINCTLY on the freighter.
He tilts his hat down to hide his face, then puts his hands
in his pockets and steps off. Gorland weaves like a drunk:
FRANK GORLAND
(slurs)
... Maybe I can get me some work...
work on one of these ships, mebbe.
Mebbe... back bustin’ work, they
got... don’t care for it... nah...
mebbe they need them a social
director.
31.

He passes the G-man, still none the wiser, then stops close
to the plank and pretends to have trouble as he lights up a
CIGARETTE. Gorland smokes it and watches the swarthy DECKHAND
as he argues with a SHIP’S OFFICER:
DECKHAND
I ain’t shipping out to that place
again, and that’s all there is to
it. You ain’t gonna make me go out
there! It’s too goddamned risky!
SHIP’S OFFICER
You know, percentagewise, they’re
losing less people than they were
building the Brooklyn Bridge. You
got Mr. Greavy’s word on that, so
stop being such a coward!
DECKHAND
I don’t mind me this ship, but in
that hell down below there? Not me!
SHIP’S OFFICER
Well, there’s no use in telling me
you’ll take the job if you stay on
the ship... it’s what Greavy says
that goes. And if he wants you to
go down -- then you’re going down.
DECKHAND
(shakes head)
... How’s about you go down in my
place! You go and wrestle with the
devil like that! It’s unholy, what
he’s been tryin’ to do down there!
SHIP’S OFFICER
(shakes head)
We sail out in ten minutes. If you
leave here now, matey -- then you
don’t see a penny more! Get your
ass on this ship, or you can say
goodbye to your contract with us!
DECKHAND
Two weeks salary for my life? Pah!
SHIP’S OFFICER
(sheepish)
You ain’t gonna die down there...
we had a run of bad luck, is all.
32.

DECKHAND
... And I say it again: Pah!
Goodbye to you, Mr. Forester!
The deckhand stalks off, and Gorland watches him go until he
notices Mr. Forester is now staring right at him.
MR. FORESTER
You there! Whaddya doing hanging
out ‘round here?
Gorland flicks his cigarette out to sea, then smiles a
drunken smile.
FRANK GORLAND
Just having me a smoke break,
matey.
The officer grunts and heads back to work. Gorland slips off
into the shadows to follow after the deckhand. He watches him
from afar as the man turns a loading docks corner to a road.
EXT. DOCKS ACCESS ROAD - MOMENTS LATER
20 20
The deckhand steps down a short side access road to the
avenue as Gorland stalks after him in the low visibility.
Gorland soon notices a FOOT-LONG LEAD PIPE sticking out of a
gutter that must’ve fallen off of a truck. He stops and
stares, as if it calls for him to fulfill a larger purpose.
Exactly what I needed.
GORLAND REACHES DOWN TO PICK UP THE PIPE.
The deckhand continues down the road with no one else around
until his collar is grabbed from behind and he’s yanked off-
balance:
DECKHAND
Hey! --
Gorland holds the deckhand in place as he presses the back of
the cold metal pipe against the back of his neck:
FRANK GORLAND
Freeze!
(growls, forceful)
Turn around, mister! You try to run
-- I pull this trigger and separate
your backbones with a bullet!
33.

DECKHAND
Alright, alright! Don’t -- don’t
shoot! What do you want? I don’t
have but a dollar on me!
FRANK GORLAND
You think I’m some kinda crooked
dock rat? I’m a federal agent, ace.
Now don’t twitch!
Gorland raises a hand from his neck, then reaches in a pocket
for his WALLET. He flicks it open to show the deckhand a FAKE
SPECIAL OFFICER BADGE too fast for him to read it.
(demands)
You see that? --
DECKHAND
Yes sir!
Now hear this, sailor, cause you’re
in some deep shit for working on
that crooked project of Ryan’s! --
DECKHAND
But they -- they told me it was
legal! -- It’s all legal! --
FRANK GORLAND
They told you it was a secret too,
huh? You think it’s legal to keep
secrets like that from Uncle Sam?
DECKHAND
No! I mean... I-I guess not. Well --
I don’t know nothing about it, just
that they’re building something out
there! And it-it’s a dangerous job,
down in them tunnels under the sea!
FRANK GORLAND
Tunnels? Under the sea? For what?
DECKHAND
... For the construction... the
foundations! I don’t know why he’s
doing it, and none of the other men
do either ‘cause he only tells ‘em
what they need to know. ‘Cept... I
heard Greavy talking to one of them
scientist types once... but all I
can tell you is what I heard...
FRANK GORLAND
And that was...?
34.

DECKHAND
... That Ryan’s building a city
under the sea down there!
FRANK GORLAND
A what?
DECKHAND
Like, a colony under the goddamn
ocean! And they’re laying out all
kindsa stuff! It don’t even seem
possible, but he’s doing it. And I
heard he’s spending hunnerds of
millions, might even be getting
into the billions with it. Spending
more money than any man’s spent in
the history of buildin’ anything!
FRANK GORLAND
(enamored)
... So where is this ‘thing’?
DECKHAND
Out there in the North Atlantic. I
ain’t even sure! They keep us all
belowdecks when we go down so we
can’t see exactly where. Cold as
death, but he’s got the devil’s
heat coming up with steam and
sulfur fumes and the like. Some
took sick from them fumes and a lot
of men have died, building it.
FRANK GORLAND
Yeah, so how do you know how much
he’s spending?
DECKHAND
I was carryin’ bags into Greavy’s
office on the platform ship and I
was curious, like. My ears tend to
perk up when I hears ‘em talking...
FRANK GORLAND
The what kind of ship?
DECKHAND
That’s what they call it... a
platform ship to launch their
slinkers. The Olympian there, it
supplies all the platform ships.
FRANK GORLAND
Slinkers?
35.

DECKHAND
Bathyspheres, they is! --
FRANK GORLAND
Bathyspheres!... If you’re
lying to me --
DECKHAND (CONT'D)
No, officer, I swear it!
(considers)
Then get the fuck out of here! Run!
And tell no one you spoke to me, or
you’ll be goin’ straight to jail!!
The deckhand scurries away as Gorland stands in mute wonder.
Andrew Ryan is building a city underneath the sea.
INT. RYAN BUILDING - WAITING ROOM - LATE DAY [NYC]
21 21
McDonagh sits nervously on the edge of a padded velvet chair.
He holds an ENVELOPE as he tries to forget about the pack of
cigarettes in his jacket pocket. A nearby door’s glass reads
ANDREW RYAN
OWNER AND PROPRIETOR
McDonagh glances at ELAINE (40s) as she works diligently at
her desk -- a leggy brunette in a gray-blue dress suit that
he likes to sneak his peeks at when he can. Think Cara Buono.
BILL MCDONAGH
Slow day, innit, Elaine?
ELAINE
... Hm?
(looks up in surprise)
Oh -- yes. It has been a bit slow.
BILL MCDONAGH
... When things are slow, you just
got to make ‘em brisker, I always
say. And what’s brisker these days
than the jitterbug?
ELAINE
(innocent confusion)
... Jitterbug?
BILL MCDONAGH
I don’t suppose you’d fancy one
sometime... with me?
36.

ELAINE
... You mean -- you’d like to go
dancing...?
Elaine glances at the door to Ryan’s office.
ELAINE (CONT’D)
(quiets voice)
... Well, I might. I mean, if Mr.
Ryan doesn’t.... I’m not sure how
he might feel about employees who --
BILL MCDONAGH
Employees who cut a rug?
(grins)
All quite ‘armless...
(clears throat)
Harmless.
ANDREW RYAN (O.S.)
Ah, Bill, you’re here!
Ryan stands in the doorway to his office in his usual suit,
but he appears more cheerful than usual.
BILL MCDONAGH
Right you are, sir.
ANDREW RYAN
I expect you’ve brought the report?
McDonagh raises his envelope.
Good man, but I already know how
things are going. Tell you what.
Let’s skip the meetings for today.
(off his surprise)
You and I are going on a trip, Bill
-- if you are up for it. A couple
of stops. One in town, and one far,
far beyond. We can talk on the way.
Ryan heads for the entrance, and McDonagh follows after.
INT. ROLLS-ROYCE LIMOUSINE - MOMENTS LATER
22 22
Andrew Ryan and Bill McDonagh sit in the back of Ryan’s limo.
His driver IVAN KARLOSKY (40s), an impassive man with scars
and a distinctively Russian bone structure, chauffeurs them.
37.

BILL MCDONAGH
When you get a chance to take a
dekko at the figure, sir, you’ll
see we’re all caught up on the
schedule and just about done with --
ANDREW RYAN
I’m not surprised you’re almost
finished, Bill. In fact, the crew
can go on and finish without you,
at this point. That’s why I hired
you -- I knew you’d do a good job.
Greavy was simply testing you to
his own rigorous criteria with this
tunnel assignment, but I knew I had
you figured right all along...
(tenses)
There’s something else I must know,
though, Bill. Something far more
important.
BILL MCDONAGH
Yes, sir?
ANDREW RYAN
I need to know if you’re ready to
meet the greatest challenge of your
entire life.
BILL MCDONAGH
I...
(determined)
Anything you want to throw at me,
sir, I’ll be here to take it on.
ANDREW RYAN
(lowers voice)
..... Have you heard of something
called The North Atlantic Project?
BILL MCDONAGH
(chuckles)
Heard those four words before and
not a syllable more. They all act
like monks with a vow of silence
when I ask them what it is...
ANDREW RYAN
Yes, yes -- and for several good
reasons. Reasons like the United
States government -- the OSS.
British intelligence... Soviet
intelligence...
38.

BILL MCDONAGH
OSS -- that’s American spies, yeah?
When I was with the RAF we’d get a
report from those blokes from time
to time.
ANDREW RYAN
Right... the Office of Strategic
Services. We run rings around them
and the FBI, I can tell you that.
(eyes Bill sharply)
... You fought in the war, so why
don’t you tell me a little about
your experience.
BILL MCDONAGH
... Not so much the fighting end.
More like support. Was an onboard
radioman for the RAF. Never killed
a man in person, but I ran eleven
bombing missions over Germany. When
I was wounded, they found me a
place in the Royal Engineers and I
got me some proper schooling there.
(reminisces)
Liked that a lot better.
ANDREW RYAN
And did you feel a great loyalty to
the government you fought for?
BILL MCDONAGH
... Wouldn’t put it that way, sir.
Wasn’t loyal to the government...
never liked ‘em much. But it wasn’t
who I was for -- it was who I was
against. And I was against those
bloody Nazi bastards bunging their
flyin’ bombs down all over London.
ANDREW RYAN
My feelings on loyalty are very...
particularized. I believe a man
must be loyal to himself first, but
I also look for men who believe in
what I believe. Men who believe it
enough that they know being loyal
to me is being loyal to themselves.
Men like you, I do hope...
BILL MCDONAGH
Yes, sir. I believe I understand.
39.

ANDREW RYAN
... Do you? Of course -- I run a
corporation for a living, and I ask
for cooperation from the people
under me. But self-interest is at
the root of cooperation, Bill. I
intend to prove that it oils the
wheels of business -- and that
freedom from the... the tentacles --
from the social shackles on
science, technology, and growth,
will produce unstinting prosperity.
I have envisioned a great social
experiment.
(considers)
... Ask yourself... where can a
social experiment on a large scale
take place? Where in this world is
there a place for men like us? My
father and I fled the Bolsheviks,
and where is it that we ended up?
This isn’t the ‘land of the free’
that it pretends to be. It’s the
land of the taxed. And it was his
reluctance to pay taxes that put my
father inside of a jail cell. Every
society is the same on the face of
the Earth these days. But Bill...
(lowers pitch, breathless)
... To leave the face of the Earth?
Just for a time. Just for a century
or two. Until those tax-happy fools
have destroyed themselves with
their Hiroshima bombs?
BILL MCDONAGH
... Leave it, sir?
ANDREW RYAN
Don’t look so astonished... I don’t
mean we’re going to the moon! We’re
not going up, no. We’re going down!
(off his look)
I have something to show you, Bill.
Would you take a trip with me out
to Iceland to see it?
BILL MCDONAGH
... Iceland... sir?
ANDREW RYAN
We’re by plane for the first leg,
but we’ll take a boat to the North
Atlantic. To see the foundations...
(MORE)
40.

the beginning of the North Atlantic
project. I’m going to have to trust
you -- and you’re going to have to
trust me...
BILL MCDONAGH
Sir...
(swallows)
... You trusted me, guv’nor. Right
out of the Christmas cracker. I’d
say that means I’ll trust you too.
ANDREW RYAN
(”wonderful”)
Good. But you’ll be giving me your
point of view as well. Because I
feel you’re trustworthy. What I’m
about to show you southwest of
Iceland is a marvel taking shape,
and I believe you’ll be as
enraptured by it as I am before
long.
(smiles at McDonagh)
For now though, of course, do try
to enjoy yourself tonight. We’ve
nearly arrived at our first stop.
(looks outside window)
It’s not generally known that I
sometimes back Broadway musicals. I
prefer to do it quietly as I’ve
heard I have an old-fashioned taste
in music. George M. Cohen and
Jolson are more my style.... Rudy
Vallee. I don’t care much for this
jitterbug business, if you ask me.
I don’t understand it...
(off McDonagh’s look,
waves at the marquee)
You know the work of Sander Cohen?
Some say he’s getting a bit long in
the tooth, but I think he’s every
bit the musical genius he ever was.
A true renaissance man of the arts.
McDonagh leans in to see that the MARQUEE reads:
SANDER COHEN IN “YOUNG DANDIES”
BILL MCDONAGH
... Ah, cor! Me ma took a liking to
Sander Cohen a few years back. Fair
wore out his ‘Kissing the Tulip’
tune on her old Victrola.
ANDREW RYAN (CONT'D)
41.

ANDREW RYAN
Oh, yes. I was a fan of his ‘No One
Understands Me.’ You shall meet him
tonight, my boy! We’re just in time
to catch his final numbers. I’ve
seen the show many times of course,
and we’ll share a word backstage.
(to driver)
Karlosky -- this here is fine.
Karlosky nods, then pulls over and parks outside Cohen’s.
INT. SANDER COHEN’S PLACE - EVENING - MOMENTS LATER
23 23
Ryan and McDonagh pass through an ECHOING backstage hallway
until they breach the end of it and stop in the back of the
wings. SANDER COHEN (50s/60s) plays on stage before them.
Cohen has an upturned mustache and thinning hair over his
pale forehead. He wears layers of makeup, as well as a silver
jacket and pants combo over glittery flamenco dancer boots.
Think Ben Kingsley.
SANDER COHEN
If you want to hop hop hop with me,
we’ll multiply like crazy...
Cohen twirls a SILVER WALKING STICK as he sashays as he
sings, wholly unashamed of his terrible, terrible song:
SANDER COHEN (CONT’D)
... Like a couple of bunnies... oh,
hop to Heaven... just hop to Heaven
with meeeeeeeeeee!...
TWO ROWS OF DANCERS dance behind him -- pretty women and
handsome men -- but they basically lumber around onstage.
ANDREW RYAN
... Admittedly, a trivial number.
I’m sure Sander would like to be
more serious, but the public needs
that sort of thing, you know.
Something light from time to time.
Artists should have their chance to
work without interference, so long
as it’s profitable, of course.
McDonagh nods, then continues to watch.
A PUNY ROUND OF APPLAUSE follows the end of the song, and a
curtain comes down before them from up above. Cohen ignores
his dancers and steps forward.
42.

The curtain comes back up almost immediately, and he bows
even though nobody asked for this.
The dancers step offstage with disinterest as Ryan gestures a
tall and voluptuous CHORUS GIRL to step their way. She has
blonde hair and wears a bathing suit trimmed with white fur.
CHORUS GIRL
(beams)
Mr. Ryan!
ANDREW RYAN
You positively glowed with talent
tonight, Jasmine. Ah -- allow me to
present my business associate, Mr.
Bill McDonagh.
Jasmine glances at him with indifference, then back at Ryan.
JASMINE
You really think I was good, Mr.
Ryan? You could see me out there?
ANDREW RYAN
Oh, of course, my dear! I’ve
watched you dance many times.
You’re always stimulating to me.
JASMINE
Enough for a lead? I just can’t
seem to get anywhere in this
business. I mean -- I got here --
but I can’t get any farther than
the chorus. I tried to talk to
Sander, but he doesn’t seem to be
interested in me. You know how he
is with his protégés.
ANDREW RYAN
Well, a good talent like yours will
undoubtedly pop out in time,
Jasmine. Don’t you worry.
McDonagh eyes Cohen as he berates a dancer on the other side
of the stage. He seems to mock the man for lacking grace in
his dance moves. Good thing the curtain is down.
JASMINE
Do you really think so, Mr. Ryan? --
I mean, if you wanted me to --
43.

ANDREW RYAN
In fact -- I’m going to help you.
I’m going to pay for you to take
elocution lessons because your only
weakness as an artist is... shall
we call it... your ‘vocal
presentation’? I took such lessons
myself, once. They will make you
sound differently, and people will
soon look at you differently...
JASMINE
(innocent stupidity)
... El-o-quew-shun...? ... Sure, I
think I know what that is!
ANDREW RYAN
I am founding a new community. In
another place, some distance from
here. You might call it a resort,
in a sense. It will take a while to
complete... but, given the right
dedication, you could work there --
in show business. It would
certainly be a new start for you.
Ryan continues with Jasmine as McDonagh looks back Cohen’s
way to see the dancer marching off with their face covered in
their hands. Cohen exhales, then seems to forget immediately.
JASMINE
Where will it be exactly?
ANDREW RYAN
Oh, a foreign place... you know.
JASMINE
Like Bermuda?
Cohen heads their way after he seems to have calmed himself.
ANDREW RYAN
(quickly)
More or less. Ah, Sander!
Jasmine steps off without looking and nearly runs into Cohen:
JASMINE
Ooh, a resort! Now that’d be swell!
SANDER COHEN
(forces smile, to Jasmine)
Do excuse me now, my dear.
(exuberant)
(MORE)
44.

Andrew, my dear fellow! You caught
the show after all!
ANDREW RYAN
We have been standing here
entranced. Allow me to introduce
you to Bill McDonagh.
SANDER COHEN
(scrutinizes him)
Bill, eh?... Mmm... earthy!
BILL MCDONAGH
Right you are. I keep the ol’ feet
on the ground, me.
SANDER COHEN
And British! How charming. You
know, just the other day I was
saying to Noel Coward, you could
afford to lay off the shoeshine
every now and again and stick to
the natural presentation. He sure
lacquers it on in a grating way...
ANDREW RYAN
You’re a real artist and not just a
cocktail wit like Noel Coward. It’s
only natural that the man should be
overwhelmed.
SANDER COHEN
Oh, you are too good to me, Andrew!
McDonagh takes a step back from Cohen as the man is too close
for comfort.
Can I expect you at my little
opening in the Village?
ANDREW RYAN
(frowns)
Opening?
SANDER COHEN
Hold on now, did you not receive
your invitation?... Well, I shall
have to positively flay my personal
assistant alive for this! Ha ha!
(off their looks)
I have a bit of a gallery show now
over at the Verlaine Club. It’s my
new obsession.
SANDER COHEN (CONT'D)
(MORE)
45.

An art form that’s almost entirely
unknown in America.
(to McDonagh, sleepy-eyed)
... It’s a tableau vivant show...
ANDREW RYAN
Ah, yes, tableau vivant. A French
artistic tradition. They pose the
people onstage, in different ways,
to represent scenes from history,
or dramas. They stand up there in
costume, almost like sculptures.
SANDER COHEN
Precisely!
(claps hands in delight)
Living sculptures, in a way. In
this case, they represent scenes
from the life of the Roman emperor
Caligula.
ANDREW RYAN
(frowns slightly)
Caligula? It sounds fascinating.
SANDER COHEN
My protégés have such artistic
courage. They stand posed in a
state of near undress in a cold
room, minute after minute, as if
frozen in place!
(whispers)
They’re in fierce competition to
please me. Oh, how hard they work
at it. But art calls for an agony
of self-sacrifice and submission;
an inverted immolation offered up
upon its altar!
ANDREW RYAN
And that’s what I admire about you.
Your total devotion to your art --
no matter what anyone thinks of it.
You are yourself completely. That’s
essential to art, it seems to me --
expressing one’s true self...
McDonagh side-eyes Cohen as he senses a scared animal within.
(to Cohen)
I’m afraid, however, I may be out
of the country for your opening.
But I was just telling Jasmine --
SANDER COHEN (CONT'D)
46.

SANDER COHEN
Oh, yes. Jasmine. She does have her
charms... believe me, I understand.
But Andrew... I’m told that this
show may close rather sooner than
we expected. Dandies was to be my
re-emergence... my metamorphosis.
And the cocoon, I find, is rather
constricting. I fear that it might
squeeze me out too soon...
Cohen hugs himself and squeezes tight as he twists in place:
Oh, I feel positively squeezed!
ANDREW RYAN
Artists chafe at restraint. Don’t
you worry about the show. Broadway
will soon be old hat, and we’ll
create our own venue for genius.
SANDER COHEN
Really! And with what sort of...
scope?... A large audience?
ANDREW RYAN
You will see. As for scope -- well,
there will be plenty of people to
appreciate you out there. Almost a
captive audience, in a way.
SANDER COHEN
Ooh! Nothing I’d like better than a
captive audience! But -- I must be
away. I see Jimmy signaling to me
from the dressing rooms. Do keep me
informed as to this... this divine
new project of yours, Andrew!
ANDREW RYAN
You will be among the first to know
when it’s ready. It will take
courage on your part, Sander. But
if you take the leap, you will find
yourself in something beautiful.
Cohen struts away towards the dressing rooms.
Yes, Bill... he can be outrageous.
Exasperating. But all of the great
ones hurt the eyes and burn the
ears a bit.
(MORE)
47.

He considers himself the Napoleon
of Mime, and so he is, when he’s
miming.
(looks down hall)
Come along, then. We’ll be off to
the airport if you’re ready to go.
Or are you having second thoughts?
BILL MCDONAGH
(grins, shakes head)
Not me, sir. You can count me in
from A to Zed.
EXT. THE LIGHTHOUSE - DAY [RAPTURE]
24 24
A GIRL’S WEDGE SHOE STEPS ONTO CONCRETE STEPS FROM A ROWBOAT.
The mother of the blue-dress girl guides her daughter onto
the lighthouse’s crowded landing that spirals up and around
to its entrance. The girl can’t see past the shifting backs
of the adults, but the mother cranes her neck to look beyond:
Stoic SECURITY OFFICERS in long black coats hold their RIFLES
at the ready -- just in case -- as they’re stationed evenly
on both sides of TWO LINES that move at a snail’s pace.
One WEARY OFFICER steps between the lines towards the newest
arrivals and scrutinizes their appearances. A THIN MAN (40s)
with a tilted beret ahead of them carefully traces his path.
FAMILY MAN (O.S.)
They are my family! -- Please! You
have to let me go with them! --
TEN PEOPLE are allowed into the lighthouse’s grand metal
doors as they cry out for an ELEVENTH that’s been left
behind. The doors are closed, then roped off with velvet.
The MAN (40s) gestures angrily towards the doors as an
officer steps in to grab a hold of him by his collar.
The mother watches from afar as the officer pulls the man
closer to his face. She clasps her daughter’s hand tighter.
THE GIRL’S STUFFED RABBIT HANGS LOOSELY FROM HER FREE HAND.
The officer stares the family man down in silence -- and the
man puts his hands up in surrender before he’s pushed back
into line. The weary officer then approaches them as they
step forward from the water’s edge, and the mother smiles.
The officer smiles back -- then suddenly stops in place and
turns to the man with the tilted beret.
48.

The beret man suddenly RIPS A REVOLVER OUT OF HIS COAT POCKET
as the officer instinctually reaches for its barrel and
raises it up. BLAM! --
The man’s PISTOL FIRES UP INTO THE SKY as the PEOPLE SCREAM --
but the officer manages to pry the weapon out of his hands.
The thin man shoves the mother and daughter aside and rushes
for the boats. The daughter nearly trips into the water as
SHE DROPS HER STUFFED RABBIT INTO THE OCEAN.
BLAM! THE THIN MAN IS SHOT SQUARE IN THE BACK. He falters his
way towards a departing boat -- but they push off with an oar
before he jumps. He misses it and SPLASHES down into the sea.
The daughter cries as her panicked mother sits down and grips
her tightly. The weary security officer stares over the edge
of the platform as the man’s body now floats there, lifeless.
WEARY OFFICER
(turns around)
Settle down and get back in line,
people! He’s no longer a threat!
The officer steps back off towards the entrance as if this
has happened before, and the people try to reform the lines.
The mother takes out a HANDKERCHIEF and wipes her daughter’s
tears as she reaches a hand out towards the water.
HER STUFFED RABBIT FLOATS AS BLOOD STARTS TO POOL NEARBY.
EXT. SEAWORTHY CONSTRUCTION - LOADING DOCKS - NIGHT [NYC]
25 25
An UNMARKED DELIVERY TRUCK pulls up to a WAREHOUSE FRONT --
SEAWORTHY CONSTRUCTION
It steers around the street corner, then parks across the
street from the loading docks. The site swarms with WORKERS,
even at night, as one shift heads in and another heads out.
INT. DELIVERY TRUCK - DAY (CONTINUOUS)
26 26
Gorland cuts the engine and adjusts his STOMACH PADDING. He’s
disguised in delivery service coveralls with a stuffed pillow
in them for a bigger belly. His coveralls read BILL FOSTER.
Gorland eyes himself in the REAR-VIEW MIRROR to make sure his
TOUPEE is situated right as a FAKE SCAR runs down one cheek.
He tries to tailor his facial expressions for the job:
49.

FRANK GORLAND
... Hey, how ya doin’?...
(adjusts voice higher)
... Bill Foster.
A CLIPBOARD on top of his dashboard reads HEINZ CANNED GOODS.
Gorland pops a MATCHSTICK into his mouth to chew, then
reaches for the clipboard and climbs out of the truck.
EXT. / INT. SEAWORTHY CONSTRUCTION - NIGHT
27 27
Gorland crosses the street and stalks his way to the loading
dock. He heads up the back steps like he owns the place, then
enters in through its open steel doors. Over the top it reads
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
Gorland stops to watch as a HUGE CREW OF MEN bustles about
and moves CRATES and PALETTES that support intricate STEEL
EQUIPMENT.
A grumpy-looking SUPERVISOR (50s) supervises a crew of eight
as they offload a MASSIVE TRUCK backed into the loading dock.
Gorland looks inside and watches with great interest as some
of the CRATES ARE THE SIZE OF A SMALL CAR.
SUPERVISOR (O.S.)
You!
He startles, then turns to see the supervisor’s sour face.
SUPERVISOR (CONT’D)
(scowls)
What do you want in here?
Gorland chews on the matchstick as then jabs a thumb back at
the truck he arrived in.
FRANK GORLAND
Got a delivery here for a Ryan.
He flashes his clipboard too fast for the supervisor to read.
Canned goods.
SUPERVISOR
(turns to crew)
Careful with that!...
(turns back)
... Well, then they’ll be glad to
hear about this out at the site.
(MORE)
50.

The second we get this truck all
unloaded, you back yours up, and --
FRANK GORLAND
(holds up hand)
Hold up, now. This here delivery is
for a man named Ryan. Is you him?
HARRY BROWN
(chuckles)
... Don’t be a fool. I’m Harry
Brown, and I sign for everything.
Mr. Ryan doesn’t show in person.
FRANK GORLAND
(shrugs)
Says here this is for a Mr. Ryan...
I don’t have no other instructions.
Gorland starts to turn away, but Brown steps in and puts a
hand on his shoulder to stop him:
HARRY BROWN
Well, now wait a minute -- hold on!
(off his look)
... They go through cans out there
like there’s no tomorrow. Got the
word from Rizzo yesterday that we
need to step up on our deliveries.
FRANK GORLAND
... Alright. Then go and get Mr....
(squints at clipboard)
Mr. Andrew Ryan out here to sign
for it.
HARRY BROWN
Look. You know who Andrew Ryan is?
FRANK GORLAND
I heard of him. Some big muckety-
muck. I don’t care if he’s Harry
Truman -- my instructions say he’s
got to sign, or no delivery.
(flippant)
Hell, I’ll come back out tomorrow.
Just a truckload of canned food.
HARRY BROWN
We got a ship coming in tonight and
they need those goods. They’ve got
an army of men out there to feed!
SUPERVISOR (CONT'D)
51.

FRANK GORLAND
So why don’t they buy ‘em something
to eat local, wherever that may be,
till we get this straightened out?
They don’t got no corner grocery
stores out there?
HARRY BROWN
(laughs)
It’s off of the coast of Iceland,
you tubby fuckin’ fool. And if he
buys from over there in Iceland...
FRANK GORLAND
(considers)
Well, maybe I can let you have the
one truckload. How many men’s he
got shipped out there -- is one
truckload going to be enough? Or
maybe you want us to send another?
HARRY BROWN
(eyes Gorland’s truck)
Hell, we could probably use three
of those!
FRANK GORLAND
Costs a bit more to get it out here
that quick. He give you guys enough
budget for that?
HARRY BROWN
(snorts)
... If you only knew what we spent
on the air pumps already. Money is,
uh... what they like to call it? No
object out here. You get it? Now go
ahead and back up the truck.
FRANK GORLAND
... I dunno. I mean, all ‘a this...
how do I know it’s on the up-and-up
if the guy who ordered ain’t here
to sign for it?... Who’s in charge
here at Seaworthy if it ain’t him?
HARRY BROWN
(scowls)
Ryan’s the owner... the owner.
(removes glasses, polishes
them with a HANDKERCHIEF)
A man by the name of Rizzo over at
the administration office, he’s the
one that’s in charge out here.
52.

A BLACK CREWMAN approaches Brown for him to sign a MANIFEST,
and Gorland leans in to try to read what’s on it:
AIR PURIFICATION SYSTEMS BLDGS 22, 23.......... $1,673,492.85
HARRY BROWN (CONT’D)
(notices, hides manifest)
You sure are the nosy sort...
FRANK GORLAND
Just as curious as anybody else.
(exhales deeply)
Well, I can’t let you sign for it.
So where’s this Rizzo’s office at?
HARRY BROWN
What delivery company did you say
you was with?
FRANK GORLAND
Me? Acme Delivery. Name’s Foster.
HARRY BROWN
Yeah? Then let me have a better
look at that clipboard of yours --
FRANK GORLAND
Now look who’s the nosy one...
(turns, raises clipboard)
See you when I get that signature,
pal.
Gorland hurries down the stairs. Brown shakes his head as a
few of the crewman watch Gorland leave.
INT. THE CLANGER BAR - OFFICE - LATE NEXT DAY
28 28
Harv Merton sits across from Gorland as he leans back in the
seat that used to belong to him. Gorland’s enforcers Garcia
and REGGIE (30s) stand over each of their boss’ shoulders.
HARV MERTON
Look, Mr. Gorland... I don’t know
much about it. I mean, if I did
know anything else, I’d tell ya.
GARCIA
(grins, to Merton)
... Say, you got any hot advice on
the horses tonight?
Garcia eyes Merton, and he eyes him right back.
53.

FRANK GORLAND
Well, let’s just think this one
through here, Merton.
Gorland reaches down into a desk drawer, then raises a BOTTLE
and a SHOT GLASS. He pours Merton a SHOT OF BOURBON and
slides it over to him.
So you got a job with Seaworthy,
out on the North Atlantic Project,
from this guy named Mr. Rizzo. You
were working as a steward on one of
their ships, right?... So they take
your ass out to the North Atlantic
and keep it there for a month and a
half... and you didn’t see nothin’
while you were out there?...
HARV MERTON
Th-that’s about the size of it. I
mean... I saw stuff was taken down,
you know -- under the water. But --
(nervous laugh)
I didn’t go down with it! They were
all hush-hush about what was really
going on there... much as your life
was worth to talk about it, one
fella said, after he come up.
(”you gotta believe me”)
I-I got no clue what they’re up to.
FRANK GORLAND
.. See... I know what they’re up
to... in a general kind of way.
(pours his own drink)
Building something big. But I don’t
know what Ryan’s angle is or where
the money is. You see ‘em bringin’
up any ore? Or you know -- mining
goodies?... Gold... silver... oil?
HARV MERTON
(shakes head)
None of that. Just a lotta ships.
Never saw Mr. Ryan there, but I
heard his name sometimes. That’s
all. I was busy the whole time and
seasick for a lot, too. I was just
glad to get back here and look for
another job.
54.

REGGIE
Yeah, and you’ll live to look for
another job too if you tell Mr.
Frank everything he needs to know.
HARV MERTON
I didn’t find out anything else! I
swear it! -- I-I hardly even left
the galley on that big ol’ ship!
Now, Frank Fontaine -- he might be
the one to know something. Got his
boats headed there to supply ‘em
with fish! And they get to talkin’
with ‘em more, you know, to those
guys in the construction work...
FRANK GORLAND
... Frank Fontaine from Fontaine’s
Fisheries?... Used to smuggle stuff
up here from Cuba in those fishing
boats of his and now he’s satisfied
delivering... fish? You kiddin’ me?
HARV MERTON
(nods)
That’s what he told me when I saw
him on the deck! I used to buy some
of the rum he smuggled up for my...
(stops himself, looks up)
... For your place...
(swallows)
Fontaine says there’s more money in
sellin’ fish to Ryan for his crews
than there is in sellin’ rum to all
of New York! Got a real cryin’ need
for the food out there, what with a
whole army on the payroll...
Gorland puts the puzzle pieces into place and realizes that
he’s found his angle with Seaworthy. Food delivery, it is.
EXT. / INT. STRATOCRUISER AIRPLANE - DAY
29 29
SUPER: The North Atlantic.
A STRATOCRUISER AIRCRAFT SOARS ACROSS A CLOUDY SKY.
Ryan leads McDonagh through its big and HUMMING cabin hall
towards the tail. The plane has luxurious Victorian-style
chairs with gold-trimmed red cushions, bolted in for safety.
Its windows have lace curtains with silk cords.
55.

ANDREW RYAN
It’s a converted Liberator, really.
Stratocruiser now. United Airlines
ordered eleven for luxury flights,
but this is a prototype. Of course,
it’s a prop plane -- but the next
generations will be jets...
McDonagh looks around, unnerved by the engine drone. SERVANTS
await an order as a CHEF cooks behind a stainless-steel bar.
BILL MCDONAGH
... Saw a fighter jet in the war,
my last trip out. ME-262 it was.
German prototype. Didn’t even
engage. I reckon they were test
flying...
ANDREW RYAN
... Yes. Fast and efficient, the
jet engine. I haven’t bothered
developing them as aircraft because
after the North Atlantic project,
we hope to have no need for them.
We’ll have a great many
submersibles, but in time we’ll
hardly be needing those either. We
aim to be entirely self-sufficient.
Ryan leads McDonagh through a red velvet curtain as we PUSH
IN on a small cabin with a METAL TABLE bolted in its center.
It has a WHITE MUSLIN COVER over it with an object hidden
underneath. The walls of the room are bare except for a
GRAND AND FULL-COLOR DRAWING OF A CITY UNDER THE SEA.
Ryan steps up to the table, then whips off the cover. Beneath
it is a SCALE MODEL OF THE CITY -- all one structure formed
of lesser industrial-arts structures. Its towers are linked
by tubular passages between sheaths of green and chrome.
Et voila!
(enamored)
... This... is Rapture!
BANG!-RATTLE! TURBULENCE HITS. THE RAPTURE MODEL QUIVERS.
BILL MCDONAGH
Lovely innit? Rapturous, like.
ANDREW RYAN
No, Bill. Rapture is the name of
this city.
(MORE)
56.

What you see here is just the core
of it. Its downtown, you might say.
The foundations are under
construction now, and we’re on our
way to creating a habitat for
thousands of people beneath the icy
waters of the North Atlantic.
BILL MCDONAGH
You’re taking the piss! --
ANDREW RYAN
Oh no no, it’s all true! It’s being
constructed in secret in a part of
the sea that’s rarely been plied by
anyone throughout history. Its
architecture is glorious, isn’t it?
The Wales brothers designed it.
Greavy’s been implementing their
vision, and now so will you, Bill.
The turbulence dies down as McDonagh feels a bit better.
BILL MCDONAGH
It’s -- being built right now?
How big’s Rapture to be, then?
ANDREW RYAN
It will be a small city, hidden
away under the ocean... miles to a
side with lots of open space inside
it. We don’t want claustrophobia...
(points)
Do you see what’s in there, through
that little window? That is going
to be park land... a park under the
sea! I call it ‘Arcadia’. We have a
new system for guiding reflected
sunlight below the surface, along
with the electrical lights. Arcadia
will both provide oxygen and be a
place for relaxation. Now here you
see --
CRACK!-BOOM! A JOLT OF TURBULENCE IS FOLLOWED BY THUNDER.
Ryan and McDonagh turn to the window opposite the drawing,
and McDonagh steps over to find DARK STORMS CLOUD BILLOWING.
BILL MCDONAGH
Dodgy ride coming.
BOOM! McDonagh closes his eyes as he flashbacks to the war.
ANDREW RYAN (CONT'D)
57.

ANDREW RYAN
Are you alright, Bill?
BILL MCDONAGH
(opens eyes, sickly grin)
There’s a good reason I took a ship
to America ‘stead of a plane, guv.
Sorry. I’m alright.
ANDREW RYAN
I suppose we both need a drink.
BILL MCDONAGH
Right you are, Mr. Ryan. Sounds
like the very medicine.
ANDREW RYAN
Let’s have a seat in the main cabin
and ride out the storm, shall we?
We should be at the airport in
another hour or so with the winds
behind us. Then it’s to the ship.
(walks off)
Now follow me and I’ll pour you the
best single malt you ever tasted...
INT. THE CLANGER BAR - NIGHT [NEW YORK CITY]
30 30
The bar nearly deserted, CAPTAIN FONTAINE (50s) sits in a dim
corner booth and frowns at his BEER as he waits. He wears a
red watch cap, a long corduroy double-breasted coat, and
looks a lot like a more weather-beaten Gorland.
Gorland eyes him from behind the bar as he approaches a STOUT
BARMAID flirting with a DRUNKEN MARINE:
FRANK GORLAND
Grab me a Heineken, will ya, doll?
She obliges with a nod, and Gorland pops the cap on his BEER.
He steps over to Fontaine’s booth, then takes the booth seat
across from him as his eyes linger on his beer.
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
Gorland. Seems to me every time I
run into you, something’s gone
awfully wrong.
Fontaine looks up from his beer with disdain.
FRANK GORLAND
(unfazed)
Well... this is my bar, isn’t it?
(MORE)
58.

And what about all that cash you
made from what I did for you on
your last cargo haul?
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
Your cut was near as big as mine,
and all you had to do to get it was
run your mouth.
FRANK GORLAND
Runnin’ my mouth is the way I live,
friend. Now, look, Fontaine... you
want the information I have or not?
I’m offering it for free, here. I’m
hoping we can work together again,
but we can’t do that if you’re in
jail, can we? So you’d better cock
one of those shell-like ears for me
here, ‘cause I’ve got word they’re
going to wait till you head out,
then raid your ass on the way back.
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
(finishes a beer slurp)
They... who?
FRANK GORLAND
Why, just the Federal Bureau of
Investigation, that’s who. Agent
Voss-man, chewin’ at your rump...
Fontaine straightens up at the news.
... My sister’s best friend is a
secretary for them. Keeps an eye on
things for me. So she’s typing up
some kind of warrant... and there
you are. Captain Frank Fontaine...
(stares him down)
Smuggling, it says. Drugs, it says.
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
Keep your voice down...
(looks around)
Well, that don’t signify. I gave up
all that smuggling stuff. Company I
work for now is paying crazy money
just to take my catch over near
Iceland. Long ways out, but it’s
some real dough, and it’s safe and
legal.
59.

FRANK GORLAND
You mean your deal with Andrew
Ryan’s operation out there?
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
Nothin’ you need to know about...
FRANK GORLAND
You don’t get it. Voss is out to
get you. He’s gonna go look down in
your hold the first time you set to
sea, and he’s gonna plant the dope
in there. You gave him the slip one
too many times, captain.
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
... Well, I... I don’t believe it!
FRANK GORLAND
They’re raiding you, alright. And
suppose that they don’t set you up.
They still know Ryan’s trying to
hide something out there. So, they
take you in for questioning. How do
you think Ryan’ll feel about that?
(off his shock)
You wanna go to jail for standing
in the way of an investigation?
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
What proof is there that a raid’s
coming, Gorland?
FRANK GORLAND
Proof? Oh, nothin’ special. Just a
carbon from the raiding order...
Gorland reaches into a pocket, then raises up a FORGED FBI
DOCUMENT. He offers it over to Fontaine.
You can sell your boats to me and
slip off to Cuba, if it suits you.
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
(eyes the order)
... Well, fuck me silly...
(slumps down)
... Maybe. It’s true I’m sick of
being out on the water every day.
(off Gorland’s nod)
Cuba sounds like good retirement,
but I want a good price in return.
60.

FRANK GORLAND
And you’ll get top dollar for it.
CAPTAIN FONTAINE
(narrows eyes)
... Now why would you want to be so
goddamn helpful all of a sudden,
Gorland? It don’t add up to me...
FRANK GORLAND
Well, it’s you they’re coming for,
not me. So I can afford to play
fisherman till things cool off.
Make some money from Ryan, then
I’ll still have the trawlers for
when I’m safe to smuggle again.
Fontaine eyes him, then exhales a long and defeated breath.
Gorland perks up with excitement as he senses him giving in.
EXT. SVISLACH RIVER - DAY [MINSK, BELARUS]
31 31
Tenenbaum sits on the edge of the same concrete wharf nearly
a year after the last time we saw her. She eats her SANDWICH
SQUARES again and gazes in a drone, her eyes twice as tired.
A SEAGULL LANDS ON THE WHARF TEN FEET AWAY FROM HER AGAIN.
Tenenbaum hardly notices it at first... but the seagull hops
closer until she stops eating her food. She finishes up her
last bite, wipes her hands, then stares blankly at the bird.
TIME CUT
Tenenbaum LIGHTS A CIGARETTE, then heads back into the city.
She’s left a SANDWICH SQUARE behind, and the seagull digs in.
INT. NATIONAL SCIENCE ACADEMY OF BELARUS - LATER [MINSK]
32 32
Tenenbaum steps through the tall and mostly empty halls of
the National Science Academy of Belarus until she stops
before a door to one of the Academy’s offices:
VADIM NAVITSKI (O.S.)
... Have you seen any associate
scientists in my office recently? --
Tenenbaum sees that the door is SLIGHTLY AJAR a few inches,
and she sneaks up to peer inside and eavesdrop:
SECETARY
Only when you ask them to enter.
61.

A long bookshelf full of GENETICS and BIOSCIENCE TEXTBOOKS
rises behind a nice oak desk. VADIM NAVITSKI (30s) sits in
his chair, his finely ironed shirt tucked into his slacks.
VADIM NAVITSKI
... You haven’t been fiddling with
any of my findings now, have you?
TORN ENVELOPE PAPER sits on his desk as Ivan holds up and
reads from a MULTI-PAGE LETTER. His secetary FREYA (20s)
stops reviewing his afternoon SCHEDULE and glares at him:
FREYA
Sir, I can hardly read your writing
as is, let alone understand it all.
Why do you ask me this?
Navitski matches her glare, then nods: “Right.” He lowers the
letter and hesitates to tell the truth.
VADIM NAVITSKI
... Several of the conclusions in
my paper seemed to be different
when I sent this one to the
community for review...
FREYA
... And?... Is this a bad thing?
VADIM NAVITSKI
Not terribly. In fact, they plan to
publish me in next month’s journal.
FREYA
Well, that’s wonderful, then!
VADIM NAVITSKI
It is. But it’s strange, as I can’t
seem to recall writing much of it.
FREYA
Perhaps all the hair of the dog on
your late nights finally paid off?
VADIM NAVITSKI
... Suppose it might have. I have
become a bit more of a lightweight
lately, after I lost my appendix.
FREYA
... Just recently, you say?
62.

Freya leans in over his desk for what looks like a kiss, but
Navitski is obscured by her. She steps out of sight -- and
Navitski suddenly sees Tenenbaum through his door’s opening.
Tenenbaum turns away and starts to walk off as he stands:
VADIM NAVITSKI
Anya, is that you?
BRIGID TENENBAUM
(stops in place)
..... Yes, Mr. Navitski...
Navitski heads for his door and steps outside with a look of
surprise. Freya slinks her way out of the room behind him.
VADIM NAVITSKI
What are you doing out here?...
Were you spying on me?
BRIGID TENENABUM
(shakes head)
... No. I apologize. I do not seek
to disturb. Ivan has asked for you.
VADIM NAVITSKI
(eyes her suspiciously)
I see. Well, do not do this again.
And you would not be a disturbance.
Your help has always been of value.
BRIGID TENENBAUM
... Thank you, Mr. Navitski.
Navitski gives Tenenbaum a tight-lipped smile, then turns off
and heads down the hall:
VADIM NAVITSKI
(over shoulder)
Keep at the accent and you’ll sound
like a Belarusian again in no time.
BRIGID TENENABUM
... Excuse me?
Navitski slows to a stop. He turns and stares blankly at her.
VADIM NAVITSKI
The German embedded in your accent.
Did you think I did not notice when
I hired you?... ‘Das Wunderkind’...
Navitski chuckles as Tenenbaum stands frozen at the mention.
He knows who I am? Or... who I was. And was that a threat?
63.

VADIM NAVITSKI (CONT’D)
(self-satisfied)
Do me a favor and fetch me my mail
and some coffee now, would you?
INT. HAPPYDRIFT TRAWLER - PILOT-HOUSE - NIGHT [NYC]
33 33
Gorland shivers as he drinks a CUP OF COFFEE. He sits and
waits in the pilot-house of the scrappy Happydrift fishing
trawler with his gray-haired ship’s helmsman, BERGMAN (70s).
A MAN HAILS them by the docks, and Gorland smiles.
FRANK GORLAND
... When I give you the signal,
head due East.
BERGMAN
Got it, boss.
FRANK GORLAND
Go ahead and call me the captain,
‘cause I’m about to be one.
BERGMAN
Aye aye, cap’n.
Gorland descends the pilot-house’s ladder to the main deck.
EXT. HAPPYDRIFT TRAWLER - MAIN DECK (CONTINUOUS)
34 34
Gorland steps onto the deck, then turns a corner to watch
Fontaine as he stalks back and forth with a scowl:
FRANK FONTAINE
(still hasn’t seen him)
... Gorland!...
(angrily)
I hear you fired my crew! I know
you’re up to something, and this
whole thing is starting to stink...
FRANK GORLAND
I’m surprised a man like you can
even smell a stink at this point.
Come on down to the galley, and
I’ll explain. Got a money parcel
for ya.
Gorland turns and hums as he heads belowdecks. Fontaine
stands there and hesitates, then sighs and steps after.
64.

INT. HAPPYDRIFT TRAWLER - LOWER GALLEY - MOMENTS LATER
35 35
Gorland continues to hum as he enters into the empty galley.
He crosses to a tiny foldout table near a stove that has a
SMALL BROWN SUITCASE on top of it. Fontaine enters in behind.
FRANK GORLAND
(gestures to suitcase)
There you are, Fontaine. Open it up
and count it.
Fontaine eyes Gorland, then the suitcase. He licks his lips
and steps in. Fontaine reaches in and opens it to find
A WHOLE SUITCASE FULL OF DEAD FISH. RED SNAPPER.
I’m thinking of changing the name
of this boat to the Happygrift.
What do you think?
Gorland removes a LEAD-HEADED BLACKJACK CLUB from his coat.
Fontaine turns in anger, and CRACK! Gorland STRIKES him in
the forehead with his weapon. Fontaine slumps to the floor.
Gorland stows his weapon again, then heads up to the deck.
EXT. HAPPYDRIFT TRAWLER - MAIN DECK (CONTINUOUS)
36 36
Gorland climbs up, then turns on the deck and waves at the
pilot-house. Bergman points over at the docks, and Gorland
picks up on his cue. He heads over to cast off the ropes.
Gorland gets the last of the ropes untied as the boat ROARS
to life. It swings out of the dock, then steers for the sea.
INT. HAPPYDRIFT TRAWLER - LOWER GALLEY - MOMENTS LATER
37 37
Gorland hums “My Wild Irish Rose” as he descends belowdecks
again and finds Fontaine’s body facedown where he left him.
Gorland approaches him, then ruffles through his pockets and
takes his WALLET and MONEY CLIP. He looks for other personal
effects before he stands back up over Fontaine.
FRANK GORLAND
(mutters)
... Do it, Frank. All the way.
Gorland reaches down and starts to remove Fontaine’s coat.
65.

TIME CUT
Gorland TIGHTENS HIS BELT over Fontaine’s unwashed trousers.
He now wears Fontaine’s clothes as he picks up the SHIRT he
had on, then steps over and wraps Fontaine’s hands with it.
FRANK FONTAINE
Whuh... whuh yu doing? Lemme go!...
Gorland ignores him and continues to ties his old shirt into
a tight knot, then leans in closer behind Fontaine:
FRANK GORLAND
... I will let you go, Captain. But
first, you got to climb that
ladder. Here, I’ll help you...
FRANK FONTAINE
... I need... clothes out here...
it’s freezing --
FRANK GORLAND
Relax. You’ll be all taken care of.
Now up the ladder you go. Come on.
Gorland pries a bleary-eyed Fontaine up, then guides him back
upstairs with one arm over his shoulder.
EXT. HAPPYDRIFT TRAWLER - MAIN DECK - MOMENTS LATER
38 38
The deck tilts back and forth out on the open sea as a fog
surrounds the trawler. Fontaine sways under Gorland’s grip:
FRANK FONTAINE
We’re... we’re out tuh sea, huh?...
Why’re we... we just...
FRANK GORLAND
(feigned surprise)
Huh. Would you look at that?
Gorland glances at the pilot-house where Bergman continues to
face the water and navigate the fog. He then hoists Fontaine:
Come on, I’ll show you why.
Gorland escorts Fontaine over to the side of the trawler.
... You ever notice how much you
and I look alike, Frank? Hell...
(laughs)
(MORE)
66.

We even have the same first name!
(pats Fontaine’s shoulder)
... Possibilities, Frank. Poss-i-
bilities...
(chuckles)
See... I got a whole new concept
here. I call it ‘identity theft’.
Gorland bends down and lifts Fontaine from his ankles, then
tilts him over the edge of the trawler. Fontaine yells out as
SPLASH! HE PLUNGES HEADFIRST INTO THE COLD WATER BELOW.
Fontaine’s feet slip under the surface, and he trails off
behind the Happydrift until he’s lost in its wake.
What do you think?
Gorland gazes out over the railing with no emotion as he
watches to make sure he doesn’t come back up. Captain Frank
Fontaine is dead. Long live... Captain Frank Fontaine.
EXT. THE ANDREW RYAN FREIGHTER - DECK - DAY
39 39
A FROTHING BATHYSPHERE BOBS UP TO THE SURFACE OF THE SEA.
ANDREW RYAN (V.O.)
These are no ordinary bathyspheres.
McDonagh smokes a CIGARETTE as he and Ryan lean against a
deck rail of the platform ship The Andrew Ryan. They stare
out as The Olympian departs on the horizon and leaves them
linked with the two other ships in their barge-chain convoy.
ANDREW RYAN
Some of the men call them slinkers
because they get around with such
agility.
BILL MCDONAGH
Never seen the likes of that.
Almost elegant, they is.
A sailor in the background leans over the railing and HURLS.
ANDREW RYAN
... Feeling seasick? I have a pill.
BILL MCDONAGH
No --
67.

McDonagh steps back as a burst of ocean spray douses him and
puts out his cigarette. He flicks it overboard.
BILL MCDONAGH (CONT’D)
I’ll take this rust bucket over
your bucketing palace in the sky
any day, guv’nor.
Ryan braces himself on the railing, then eyes McDonagh.
ANDREW RYAN
Now, Bill... are you ready to go
down? I’m informed that the wind’s
dropping. In an hour the sea will
be calm enough for the launching.
BILL MCDONAGH
(eyes the water)
Ready, Mr. Ryan. Always ready, me.
INT. BATHYSPHERE - AN HOUR LATER
40 40
Ryan and McDonagh stand inside of the dim bathysphere and
grip tightly to its hand-holds. Its walls are padded like a
cell as a BANK OF CONTROLS AND GAUGES rises in its center.
EXT. THE ANDREW RYAN FREIGHTER - DECK (CONTINUOUS)
41 41
A CRANE GUIDES THE BATHYSPHERE OVER THE EDGE OF THE SHIP.
INT. BATHYSPHERE / EXT. UNDER THE ATLANTIC (CONTINUOUS)
42 42
McDonagh is on edge as Ryan hangs in tight without a worry.
The sphere SMACKS against the ocean surface, then starts to
submerge below as the CRANE’S METAL COIL NOW UNRAVELS ITSELF.
A LIGHT FLICKERS ON ABOVE THEM as THEY SINK BELOW THE WATER.
BUBBLES RISE UP around them outside, then dissipate to dark.
McDonagh eyes Ryan’s calm demeanor a few times as if he can’t
quite understand it. Ryan smiles mischievously as he notices
McDonagh is expending a lot of effort trying to play it cool.
DEEPER AND DEEPER THEY SINK INTO THE DEPTHS OF THE ATLANTIC.
They start to slow, then suddenly JOLT to a stop. CL-CLACK!
MCDONAGH
(nervously)
That supposed to happen?
68.

THE BATHYSPHERE SUDDENLY MOVES HORIZONTALLY ON ITS OWN.
ANDREW RYAN
(nods)
It’s radio controlled. We don’t
have to do a thing. They follow
underwater signals to the entrance
shaft with turbine props. You will
experience no discomfort from the
increased air pressure, as there
isn’t any needed. The same will
hold true inside Rapture itself.
There is no danger of the bends as
we have a new method for constantly
equalizing air pressure at any
depth and with no special gasses.
It will be almost exactly the same
as it is on the surface, with only
the most minor variations.
BILL MCDONAGH
(skeptically)
At any depth?
ANDREW RYAN
We have gone to great lengths to
keep our discoveries to ourselves.
I have found some of the most
unusual, extraordinarily talented
scientists in the world, Bill --
and I intend for Rapture to house
them all, should they recognize the
gravity of the opportunity at hand.
(gestures to porthole)
Speaking of marvels, you can just
see the foundations of Rapture
there, before we head into the dome
shaft. And let us have some
appropriate music...
McDonagh steps up to the PORTHOLE as Ryan fiddles with the
bathysphere’s control bank. McDonagh takes a look outside as
HIDDEN SPEAKERS START TO PLAY GERSHWIN’S “RHAPSODY IN BLUE”.
THROUGH THE PORTHOLE -- ENORMOUS STRUCTURES LOOM IN THE DARK
BLUE WATER beyond Earth’s natural stony ramparts. FRAMEWORKS
FOR ELEGANT BUILDINGS -- GIANT UNFINISHED WALL PANELS -- and
the SILHOUETTE OF A STATUE, tilted and awaiting placement.
BILL MCDONAGH
(awestruck)
...
(MORE)
69.

BioShock 1x01 The Lighthouse

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