Kate's Titanic Diary
Dec. 7th, 1995(LA)
Today I met [director] James Cameron. Even
though I haven't read for him yet, he showed me
a model of the Titanic and how they were going to
do the special effects shots by using a pen which
is actually a tiny camera.. The story is incredible,
horrible. One lifeboat only just missed landing on
top of another. Some were sent out with 11
people on them and yet so many people drowned.
The character he’s considering me for is called
Rose Dewitt Bukater, a 17-year-old from
Philadelphia who is about to marry a man she
can’t love. She’s on this ship, feeling as if she is
about to be condemned for life, only to find true
love on board the Titanic...
December 27, 1995, family Christmas, Reading,
England.
I’ve finished reading the treatment for Titanic. My
God! I just saw True Lies and The Abyss:
amazing. One of Jim’s triumphs is that, in spite of
the action, I really, really cared about those
people. I wanted to know what happened in the
rest of their lives. I want this part.
January 15, 1996, London.
Leonardo DiCaprio is being mentioned to play
Jack[a boy from steerage Rose falls in love with]!
He is the actor of the century after what he did in
[What’s Eating] Gilbert Grape.
February 26, 1996, Los Angeles.
My first proper screen test. For Jude and Sense
and Sensibility and Hamlet I’d done a lot of
auditions and reading and being put onto a video
tape. But a proper Hollywood screen test! I
arrived in the morning and it took an entire day,
with hair, costume, make-up, on a sort of set that
they’d built up, really working the scenes and
doing dialogue to the camera. I think it went okay.
My fingers are very tightly crossed.
March 19, on set with Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet,
Shepperton Studios, England.
Oh my God! I’m sharing a room with
Tina[make-up artist] in this tiny
bed-and-breakfast and my mobile rang at 5am!
When I heard Hylda’s [Kate’s Hollywood agent]
voice, I knew there was only one reason for her to
call at 5am and I was screaming so much I woke
everybody up, even Julie [Christie, playing
Gertrude to Winslet’s Ophelia in Branagh’s
Hamlet] in the next room. Then I had to go to
work, where I was in a straitjacket, doing
Ophelia’s whole bloody mad scenes! Ken
[Branagh] is so excited. He’s so thrilled for me.
The best thing is that I’ll be playing an American in
something that happens to be a really good story.
June 7, London.
I’m exercising like a freak. How vile. I’ve had to
give up my daily swim because of all the red dye
they are putting in my hair. Too many chemicals.
So now I’m lifting weights and cycling my bum off.
Jim has chatted to me about the weird eating
habits you get into on a really long shoot. He can
tell I’m a bit squirrelly about eating and things like
that so he has suggested I should have a routine.
Not that he wants me to bulk up like Linda
Hamilton did in The Terminator but I must be
strong enough for the task ahead. He’s told me
it’s going to be tough, it’ll be a long shoot. I’m
flying to LA to start rehearsals at the end of
August. Two months to no cellulite. Can it be
done?
September 8, Interstate 5 South Freeway,
heading to Mexico and the set of Titanic.
I’m in a car with this great driver called Patrick on
the way to Mexico. We’ve been drinking
ice-blended mochas from Starbucks and listening
to the blues. It’s a beautiful day, and this is a
beautiful drive. The sea is to my right and there
isn’t a whisper of a cloud in the sky. The cigar
Patrick is smoking is huge and smells divine.
September 9, Rosarito, Mexico.
I’m on my little balcony. All I can hear is the sea
and the chug of a little fishing boat going to catch
lobsters. The rooms where we are living are really
nice, airy and clean, although nearer to Christmas
they’ll all be blacked out because from then on
we’ll be doing night shoots and sleeping by day.
September 10, Rosarito.
It’s extraordinary what’s been done here. They
are building studios, cold-water tanks, Titanic
funnels, staterooms, dressing rooms, a
production office, a gym...on what was derelict
land by the sea. The time spent; the money
spent! I’ve been shown my dressing room. People
keep referring to “my trailer”, but it’s really a
room, with a huge TV and a CD player and an
enormous sofa and a bathroom with shower. I
was welcomed with flowers and a little basket of
soaps and eye compresses. I’ve just done 40
minutes on the bike. I’ll do my stomach exercises
later. Flabby tummy today. There is so much
security here. There are men walking around
carrying guns and truncheons. Very weird.
September 12, Rosarito.
Today there was an explosion 200 metres away
from where Jim was directing me, Leo and Billy
[Zane, who plays Rose’s uptight fiance] in
rehearsal. And Jim rushed out and came back
saying it was 20 kilograms of dynamite - they are
creating even more space to build on and the set
is so massive as it is. So they just blew up a
whole chunk of land. There are thousands of
people working here, cranes swinging against the
sky.
September 14, Rosarito.
I’ve been up since 5.45am, moved my furniture
around a bit and made it a bit more cosy. I am on
a mission to get rid of a horrid horsehair seat. I’m
very tired and I need to get some sleep. I feel
smelly, fat, ugly, talentless and uncommited,
frightened, lonely, nervous, mad and we haven’t
started shooting yet. If it’s not rehearsals, it’s
weight training; if it’s not etiquette, it’s voice
coaching. By the end of this film, if it’s not suicide,
it’ll be an asylum.
September 15, Rosarito.
It is the night before shooting starts and here I
am, all pin-curled up and hungry, ready to go.
Thinking about Rose. She was so young. I need
to think about her childhood, her youth and find
my way through the 17 years of her life. I’ll never
sleep tonight.
September 16, Rosarito.
No sleep. This is it: day one of shooting Titanic.
I’m thinking in American. Hair and make-up done,
and cossie on. My life is not my own and probably
never will be - and that’s Rose talking. Spoke to
Mum and Dad this morning from my little bed; it
was 4am and strange, hot and still.
October 5, Rosarito.
The water in the first tank wasn’t so bad, but now
we’ve switched to filming in the massive tank
where the water is pumped in straight from the
sea. It is like swimming in...the coldest winter in
the history of Scottish winters. I bet people will
think it’s heated, but it isn’t. I am completely
freezing. My dresser has been bugging me to wear
a wetsuit, but I can’t. I’d be too aware of it and
anyway, my dress is too thin for it. Jim doesn’t
want see-through and says this isn’t a wet T-shirt
competition, but he does want the dress to cling
to me when I’m wet and we’ve done all sorts of
camera tests for that. It is so cold, but...it means
my reactions are real, I hope! It literally takes my
breath away.
October 15, Rosarito.
My dress is driving me bloody bonkers. Storywise,
from the point the ship hits the iceberg, I’m in the
same dress till the end of the film. It’s layers and
layers of chiffon and layers and layers of pain in
the arse. It’s supposed to trail behind me in the
water like a big long snail, but instead it keeps
wrapping itself around my legs and tripping me up
in the middle of shots which is driving us all mad.
Jim had a brilliant idea. Scissors. How satisfying.
Now I look like Bo Peep in just the top of the
dress and my bloomers. Fine for close-ups but
not exactly glamourous, but who cares. Leo is
finding this highly amusing. He would. He’s
wearing a suit.
October 22, Rosarito.
Jim asked me what I imagined I was going to be
doing when I read in the script that the water
came flooding up. I said, “To be honest with you, I
only ever saw the story boards. I never saw me
and Leo actually doing it”. Also, then I was excited
about it. I wanted to kind of wait and see. Now I
know what it’s like and it’s pretty exhausting.
November 1, Rosarito.
I’ve just done a work-out with Diamond, the
unlikely name of the burly black trainer. It no
longer feels weird working out at 3am, but I am
starting to find it too much. We’ve been shooting
at night for weeks now. I get up at about 1pm
and eat straight away so that my food has time to
go down before I get into my corset. Mel
[make-up artist] brought back some lovely scones
from Starbucks over the border, will eat for
tomorrow’s breakfast.
November 10, Rosarito.
Apparently survivors said getting into the lifeboats
was completely terrifying. They had to step out
across a huge gap between the ship itself and the
boats. Shooting the loading of the lifeboats is
pretty scary for us. Our ship is a replica, almost as
big, so we have to step out over - hello! - a
massive great big gap! And our gap is
considerably smaller than the real gap would have
been. Diamond showed up on set today to show
moral support. I’ve stopped training because it
was all too much, but he’s become a good friend
and it is lovely having him around. He’d heard this
was a really tough scene for me, so there he was,
standing there watching, looking out for me...Very
comforting.
November 20, Rosarito.
There’s a section of the ship that moves on
hydraulics right up to 90 degrees. It’s bloody high
up there, so Leo and I are in safety harnesses and
clinging to each other for dear life. In some of the
shots we have to lean over the railing and witness
stunt people hanging off their harnesses doing
falls and God knows what else. Survivors’ reports
say that it was a really still night. Strange,
because it was really still tonight, too. The stars
were amazing.
December 3, Rosarito.
Sarah, my stunt double, was being hit by a tidal
wave of water in a corridor today. All in a day’s
work for her. How can she be so matter of fact
about it when I stand and watch, cringing? She’s
really helpful when I do my own stunts, always
there with kneepads and elbow protection. “Just
bend your knees, just relax and control your
breathing”. Not so easy in the heat of the
moment. I’m covered in bruises. Part of the job. It
bloody hurts, though. My problem is I don’t think
I’ve done my job properly unless I walk away
having suffered. Am I a complete masochist, or
what!
December 15, Rosarito.
Day off. Much needed. I’ve been for a lovely swim
and now I want to go back to bed. Lucky Leo gets
more sleep than me. There’s an extra
hour-and-a-half added to the end of every day for
my pin-curling. Kay [hairdresser] can do it pretty
swiftly. Good thing we are both too tired to chat
because half the time I’m asleep in the chair. On
screen I have luscious red curls. Off screen I look
like a bag lady with my headscarf tied in a bow at
the front. So attractive. I think I’ve put on weight.
I feel heavy, tired, physically swollen and so lonely
without my family.
January 9, 1997, Los Angeles.
I feel revitalised. Christmas back at home was
lovely. My brother seemed to have grown a foot
since I left for Mexico. The new year brings much
excitement and I am determined to be positive,
especially as I have a new pair of shoes: very high
with two big straps across the foot. New shoes,
new walk: proud, tall and confident. I must sleep
now - 7am pick-up and still jetlagged.
January 16, 1997, Rosarito.
It’s the UK premiere of Hamlet today. In fact it’s
1.15am in England, so they’ll all be partying at the
Dorchester [hotel]. I didn’t get much of a chance
to write yesterday - we [came] inside to complete
the scene where Rose meets Jack. We didn’t
complete it, but we’ve done most of it. We did
Leo’s and my reshoot and close-ups, though.
Initially, I was so fed up because we’d been
shooting that scene forever and it isn’t an easy
one. But thank the Lord we did it again; I felt I
really found beats that I couldn’t find before.
January 18, Rosarito.
Nothing, nothing prepared me for the scenes we
are shooting now. I vow I will look much more
carefully at script directions in future! “Jack and
Rose run through flooded corridor” has turned
into the most arduous three days of my life.
Scared. Terrified. My experience in the water
seems like the worst of anybody’s because of that
bloody flimsy dress. Everyone is being very
sympathetic. We never do more than three takes
before we warm up. Jim is being really careful
about hypothermia. You don’t realise when you’ve
got it, seemingly your brain just switches off and
you don’t know how cold you are. When you’re in
freezing cold water and you’re acting your arse
off, you forget about the temperature of the
water. Thank God we have on-set jacuzzis. We
fling ourselves into them for 10 to 15 minute
stretches while the dressers attack our clothes
with hair driers, ready for the next take.
January 23, Rosarito.
In every shot when Leo and I are in a confined
space, there are safety divers underwater,
untangling my legs from the dress. [Now Sarah
has done the stunt] we are doing the close-ups in
the scene where we’re swept along by a tidal
wave, then get trapped behind an iron gate. The
water’s rising and then, at the last minute when
it’s almost at the ceiling, we break through. It is
frightening and claustrophobic. To make matters
worse, at this point in the film, my fiance’s coat
has been put on me, up on deck. So for a lot of
the scenes I’m wearing a huge soaking overcoat
that I can hardly move in. Every time we get the
gates open and break free, we then swim under a
pipe that runs across the ceiling of the corridor
with literally centimetres in which to breathe. And
in every take the bloody coat gets caught and the
poor diver is frantically trying to free it. I know
there are escape holes in the ceiling and safety
divers everywhere but this all feels very real and
bloody frightening. It makes my drowning scene in
Hamlet seem like a swimming lesson.
January 24, Rosarito.
We finished at 7am. Not easy to keep at it when
I’ve been awake for 19 hours and just want to fall
asleep standing up. But Jim was calm, kind and
concise, giving fab direction. He helped me find all
the things I was looking for but couldn’t quite find
and had to compromise somehow before. The
sunrise is gorgeous outside, an orange, pink and
yellow strip against the deep blue sea. The
sunsets are always glorious here.
January 26, Rosarito.
I’m at work in my dressing room waiting to go on
ship for another night’s work. It was frantic
yesterday - we got lots done. Jim was in a
fantastic mood and we had a real laugh. How
many close-ups can that man do though? “Can we
do another shot of Kate, please?” I can’t bear
close-ups. I wonder if any other actors like them?
I had to spit in Billy’s face in one part of the scene
today. We stopped between takes for a private
lesson on the side of the ship. Tina [make-up]
had a bowl of beaten eggwhite, but in the end I
used my own spit. When we started rolling again,
Sian [make-up] ran over with a tube of K-Y jelly,
and puta splodge on my tongue to make it look
more dramatic - more spit - not a pleasant
experience.
January 29, Rosarito.
Underwater close-ups and it was horrible! I was
weighted down, on top of a small stepladder,
which is weighted down to the bottom of the
tank. There were stunt boys around that I’d
known from doing the drowning scenes in Hamlet
which made me feel a bit better while I still had my
mask and breathing gear. Leo is so happy in the
water! He is over there doing backflips like he’s a
water baby! Then I’m at the bottom of the tank
and someone takes the mask off for me and I feel
completely naked and helpless. I couldn’t see Leo.
The surface seems miles away. Jim was absolutely
brilliant. He wouldn’t have made me do that if I
didn’t say, “No, I’m okay.” So they take the mask
off again and I can’t see anything...and it is really
petrifying when they yell “action” and suddenly
that regulator is out of my mouth and I have
nothing and I cannot go anywhere because I am
weighted down to this ladder. Take after take I
reminded myself that I wanted to be part of this. I
will not admit defeat - I will not do that.
February 1, Rosarito.
I managed to get seven hours sleep, woke about
4pm and ate two scones that Amy (my dresser)
made - pear and blueberry - and drank coffee on
the couch with Tina and watched the sunset. It’s
windy outside. I’ve got lots of hope and courage
at the moment. I’ve started to feel good about
the work I’ve done on Titanic. Before I was just a
bit bewildered and depressed about it, not
knowing whether what I was doing was good or
bad or indifferent or what.
February 2, Rosarito.
I had to wear a wetsuit today, it was so freezing
cold. We did a very wide shot outside in the huge
tank, with lots of extras and me surfacing having
gone down with the ship.
February 4, Rosarito.
Well the week has begun again and thank God. I
was becoming stir-crazy, being called in to work to
do nothing when I could be here eating Granola
bars, watching movies and seeing Mel and Lisa
[make-up artists] dye their roots! I went for a
midnight walk. I spoke to Mum.
February 5, Rosarito.
They’ve found rats on set in steerage corridors -
very authentic! I spent the night soaking wet, cold
and in the see-through dress. I now strip off
anytime I can and dive in the jacuzzi. Forget about
a flabby arse when you just want to get into hot
water and warm up.
February 6, Rosarito.
We didn’t complete the scene where the
third-class passengers try to escape, so more
tomorrow. My feet are pulsating, because they
were so trampled on by all the steerage extras,
like a herd of elephants. They reduced all my toes
on my left foot to a pulpy mess in one take.
February 9, Rosarito.
At last the week has come to an end...the worst
week so far. I had an amazing massage. I lay on
the table and zonked out. I didn’t even bother to
dress afterwards. I stayed in my white dressing
gown, shoved my sore feet into my slippers and
fell into the car, then walked through the front
door and proceeded to pick the coffee icing off the
top of a maple walnut scone from the freezer.
