Cast Away

Isn’t Cast Away supposed to be one word? Castaway? You know, like Gilligan and all his wacky companions? I suppose that by splitting castaway into two words, verb and adverb, Robert Zemeckis is making some sort of subtle symbolic comment on the state of corporate employment today. Tom Hanks’ character, an ambitious FedEx executive is (despite his undying devotion to his company) expendable, unimportant, and cast away. Much like every package I send through FedEx.

Speaking of packages, I’ll bet the Skipper (perfectly portrayed by Alan Hale Jr.) was hung like an African bandicoot. If the S.S. Minnow had been shipwrecked in real life, and it came down to a bonafide castaway situation, the Skipper would’ve been the odd man out in the pussy/genetic-longevity scheme. Thurston had Lovey’s withered-up hole to fill. The professor had his pick of Ginger or MaryAnn. Gilligan most likely raked in the leftovers due to his ability to gather copious amounts of coconuts and fashion them into cars, patio furniture, and Ben-Wa balls. The Skipper, forced to satisfy himself manually and finding his Johnson irritated from Gilligan’s home-made coconut lotion, would undoubtedly turn to anally raping the indiginous cannibals on the island. Would this drive the hardy seaman insane? I often speculate for hours on the myriad possible mindsets of the Skipper.

Anyway, Cast Away the movie strands Tom Hanks on an island for four years after a FedEx plane crash. Everyone thinks he’s dead, but he escapes the island by surfing home on a tsunami… Errrr…wrong island again. Sorry. He escapes the island on a raft and returns home to find that his fiance has married someone else, friends have died, and he’s got FedEx backpay out the ass. I actually enjoyed this movie until he got rescued, mainly because there was a refreshing hour of almost no dialogue whatsoever.After the rescue, the movie flip-flops and tries to draw all these weak mental and physical survival parallels. As a result, and with Hanks bellyaching like an orphan who got stiffed half a ladle of gruel, the whole post-rescue movie spirals into unbelievability and utter touchy-feely womanliness.

So your fiance married someone else. What did you expect? For her to wait on your dead package-deliverin’ ass? Move on already. My main priority, after four years alone on an island, would be gettin my hump on with the nearest available non-crustacean I could find. Hell, Tina Louise and Dawn Wells need work. Call ’em up on the coconut phone.

This entry was posted in movies that suck. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *