Posted: 01/03/2001

Cast Away

(2000)

by David Pietrandrea

Please cast away Cast Away.

Robert Zemeckis tries too hard. That’s the problem with his post-Forrest Gump career. No one can deny that he’s from the Steven Spielberg school of filmmaking. His emotional messages seem to mirror those of Spielberg’s, a celebration of wonder, of youth, and of Americana. Yet with Zemeckis this always comes off as forced. He never seems at ease as a filmmaker, almost as if he’s delivering the message that he thinks the audience expects of him. Spielberg for all of his wide-eyed wonder is always believable and one senses that it’s genuine. This is the root of the problem with Cast Away.

Based on an extremely simple idea from Tom Hanks’ over-developed Hollywood style, as if one man’s journey is not enough to sustain a film, the story had to be gorged with supporting characters and a tidy little love interest; Helen Hunt. Despite her Oscar winning performance in As Good As It Gets, I still say the woman can’t act, unless by acting you mean over-acting. Hunt always seems aware of the camera. Her hyper-ventilating delivery and exaggerated gestures are the exact opposite of Tom Hanks’ approach making it all the more noticeable. Hanks is as impressive as always, if not for his sensitive delivery I might have left the theater after he started talking to the volleyball (although said ball, “Wilson,” is probably the best character in the film).

Tom Hanks gives such an emotional performance in all his roles that, even with all his praise, I still find him to be a captivating actor. The fault goes to Zemeckis and the scriptwriters who seemed to be searching for complexly profound messages without justification. Hanks got the idea after reading an interview about a real castaway. The person was asked if they ever wanted to go back to the island, missing the solitude it offered. The interviewee replied, with some anger, that they never wished to see the island again and that they would sooner die than go back. Seems fairly logical. Yet the Tom Hanks character, Chuck Noland, must have some catch. Let’s make him a time obsessed FedEx worker who, once on the island, is forced to struggle with his own concept of time. Let’s have him propose before stepping on the plane that will crash, as if this is something you would do on the run, not even waiting for an answer.

(Beware, for spoilers lie ahead.)

Four years pass for Chuck Noland, he learns to commune with coconuts and he manages to survive. This is the most interesting and well crafted portion of the film, his anguish and loneliness seem to grab even the most cynical audience member. The credit goes to Tom Hanks for keeping this, the longest segment of the film, interesting and rewarding. As the FedEx boxes wash ashore Chuck finds a friend in the form of a volleyball. Wilson really is the most intriguing character in the film. It may sound ridiculous but the most powerful scene involves Wilson himself being cast away. Noland decides to make a break for freedom and to brave the sea. He constructs a raft and takes Wilson with him who, in turn, falls off the raft while Chuck is asleep. Chuck wakes up to see his volleyball drifting away and this causes his first real break down. This thing, this inanimate object, has become his friend. It has watched his every move for the past four years, it has shared his few moments of joy and his many sorrows, all the time observing with silence. Chuck is desperate to save Wilson almost risking his raft to do so, but in the end he is incapable of it. The shot that follows is heartbreaking, as Tom Hanks lies on the raft sobbing, declaring his failure again and again. I must confess a tear came to the eye of this reviewer. The audience reacted in the same way, a scene that began with laughter from the audience ended in silence.

This, if anything, should have been the theme of the film. Man’s ability to adapt to the harshest of situations, to thrive, in fact, under the pressure. Yet beneath the animalistic need for survival there lies the very human need for companionship, for friendship. More than being trapped on a prison of an island Chuck Noland is trapped in the prison of his mind. He is forced to invent a new world full of new schedules to maintain, new means of entertainment, and new forms of friendship.

This, however, was not strong enough for the filmmakers. Noland is rescued shortly after losing Wilson, he is returned to his life and seems none the worse for the wear. He adjusts almost immediately and the film skips over the first four weeks of his return, which would have been the most interesting part to show. Instead, he is back and well adjusted and must face Kelly (Helen Hunt) who has since married and had a child. They exchange words such as, “You were the love of my life” and “I love you. You’ll never know how much.” It’s all very trite and much too easy a resolution. Made all the worse by the buxom redhead Chuck meets in the last two minutes of the film. His new wife, perhaps?

One beautiful element of the film is the music, not so much the score but the use of it. There is a complete absence of music on the entire island segment. When Chuck finally escapes on his raft, breaking over the last wave that sails him to freedom, the music drifts in and then fills the scene. It is made so powerful by the fact that it has been absent the entire film, making the island scenes all the more engrossing and realistic.

In the end, it comes back to Robert Zemeckis’ need to make great cinema. Here was a story that had the potential for a unique beauty but was over-laden with message and false inspiration. Chuck Noland could have stayed lost at the end of the film; not literally, but metaphorically. In reality this would have worked, but in Hollywood the answers come far too easily and with much condescension.

David Pietrandrea lives in New York City but was afraid to go to Times Square for New Years. “Too many crazies,” he says.

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