We start out with lots of geeky people spending millions of dollars searching for a ship at the bottom of the ocean, a potential discovery that might be minimally interesting but will not change the world in any way. After an interminable amount of time spent watching actors watch sonar screens, it becomes clear to the scriptwriters that we need to spice the story up a bit. So, we jump in a time machine and head back to the maiden voyage of the ship that could never sink, even though it does. (What? You didn’t know? Oh, please.)
Enter new cast of characters.
Rose: “I’m so bored with this high-society life and being engaged to a rich man. Is there anybody on this ship who can awaken my womanly needs?”
Jack: “Hello. I’m really poor and I don’t understand my place in life. Wanna go below deck and live the thug life for a while?”
Rose: “That sounds splendid! Lead the way.”
Scenes of Rose and Jack mingling with the peasants and dancing jigs, with Rose breaking free of her monied but corseted lifestyle and discovering the joys of listening to your heart and eating boiled cabbage for dinner. Later, up on the Rich Bitch deck, Rose’s Momma is none to keen with the developments.
Momma: “I read on the Internet that you’ve been dallying with degenerates. This must stop immediately. Cross your legs and deaden your soul and marry Billy Zane even though he’s an ass. After all, I bore the child of Clint Eastwood out of wedlock. You could do worse.”
Rose: “What about me? It isn’t fair.”
Momma: “Don’t try quoting lyrics from an Australian band. Everybody takes more than they give. Just deal with it.”
Rose deals with it by racing off to find Jack. “I’ve been given an ultimatum by Momma, and I feel the only way to resolve this is for me to rip off my clothes so you can draw me while I wear a necklace that will prove symbolic for this movie.”
Jack: “Makes sense to me. Toss aside your inhibitions and lounge on that chaise longue.”
[Sounds of sketching and product placement. (You too can own a cheap-ass replica of “The Heart of the Ocean Necklace” on the installment plan. Call now!)]
Insert scenes of low-level employees on said ship getting the first clue that something might be amiss with this voyage. No one on the high-level really cares, because we wouldn’t have a movie if they had done so in a more responsible manner.
Eventually, Jack and Rose decide it’s time to surrender the pink and they proceed to accomplish this goal in a conveniently-available Model T or some such auto in the vast cargo hold of the ship. (That’s always my preferred destination for trysting when I’m breaking social barriers. You?) This amorous scene is highlighted by that lusty hand smacking the steamy window of said auto, an image that left much more of an impression than the stupid necklace or Kathy Bates proving unsinkable.)
Later, post-coital, with the two of them strolling on the Promenade Deck, Rose: “The crisp night air is rather refreshing, especially since we nearly immolated in that car where they will never be able to scrub out the stains.”
Jack: “Love means never having to say you’re sorry about what might have happened to the upholstery.”
Rose: “So true. Wait, did you feel that? It seems that our love boat just ran into something that it shouldn’t have.”
Jack: “Oh, it’s nothing.”
Rose: “By nothing, do you mean that I shouldn’t worry about giant pieces of an iceberg crashing onto the deck in front of us?”
Jack: “Of course not. Our love is eternal.”
Mere seconds later, Jack and Rose are floating in the frigid ocean whilst stoic but stupid members of the ship’s orchestra continue to play show tunes as everybody around them plummets into the sea and writes scathing reviews on Expedia.
Jack, dog-paddling in the turgid waters: “Well, this is a bit unexpected.”
Rose, lounging on a huge piece of flotsam that could easily accommodate both of them if either had bothered to think about logistics: “And it’s so annoying.”
Jack: “Promise me now, never let go!”
Rose: “That’s so sweet of you to say. And how are you doing down there?”
Rose: “Hmm. I guess I’ll have to marry that nasty Billy Zane after all. Now, where is that wretched bell for room service? I’d like a nice cup of tea.”
Note: Events have been modified and condensed considerably, as no one has time anymore to do something that last three hours, even if it feels good and you want to slap a steamy window.