Gerald Kingsland a middle-aged writer advertises an ad in a magazine, looking for a wife to take to a secluded island for a year. The young Lucy answers and the two marry and head off to an island off the coast of Australia. However their idyllic dreams are pushed to the test and soon the two are caught up in a love and hate relationship.
Far from Nicolas Roeg's best, but "Castaway" is an interesting curio that pulls you along for a very offbeat, psychological drama than what might seem like a relaxing pastoral getaway. Alan Scott's adapted story opens up as a thoughtful jaded power-play between two characters, impeccably performed by Oliver Reed and Amanda Donahoe. While the sporadic script comes across literately trivial in the growing situation, than actually delving deeper into the character's past and motivations. Something about this down-played metaphorical search for acceptance, communication, fulfilment, obsession and inner discovery is unpredictably planned out.
It's quite a warped spin on the island dream, as you observe and get involved with the feelings being shrouded about and their journey now to survive. Nothing comes easy, and both realise they have to work hard for their dreams. What was their choice to escape the madness and restrictions of society eventually becomes their downfall because there's nothing there to shape their daily lives. There you could escape your problems, but on an island you got to live with them and overcome them to move on. Gerald seems to be the go-getter from the very beginning, but it's Lucy who adapts to the island life. This is a surprise as the tables are turned with the muscularity card. Lucy is the resourceful one, not afraid to shy away compared with a loafing Gerald's relying on her. This gives her power (a sexual one) over the lazily whiny Gerald, and her inner strength and confidence makes her the object of affection, or better put lust to Richard. She uses this sexual edge to her advantage, and spends most of the time flaunting about in little or no clothing. The hardship makes her stronger, but he gets weaker. The real pettiness that Lucy shows Gerald, is deservedly so. As he hides his pain, and uncomfortable side with erratically insane behaviour. That's until he finds a purpose, then she sees the true person he is, than the one she had been stuck with for most of the year. Now the attention she drew from him is clouded and the true notion of them roughing it out on the island is lost with the intrusion of mechanical devices, locals from another island and food supplies making it much easier to cope. It's no longer about survival, and depending on each other. Where left trying to figure him out. Both are self-seeking persons with their own goals for this journey. She's there to be apart of the island, but he has his eyes on her. Humour can be found in some sharp witty passages, and there few amusing darkly twisted exchanges. Reed's hearty performance is one of complexity, intrigue and tremendous versatility. His let loose. A ravishing Donahoe terrifically grows with her independently headstrong performance.
A true calling card of Roeg is the visually enigmatic experience he emits from his productions. Reality and fantasy convincingly milked together, and not with the usual fractured editing style that he incorporates. It hasn't got that vagueness; open-ended feeling that usually ends with his films. Incidentally there's a strange surreal punch done in a more clear-cut fashion finding its way in, but it's the whimsically mediative illustrations of nature doing what it does best that engraves many striking, and at times dreamy images. Blending the beautiful with the jarring. Harvey Harrison's scenic photography work is masterfully projected, and admirably frames the lush pristine locations (stunning water shots) to the desirably leering lensing of Donahoe. Stanley Myers silky melancholy music score wraps itself with many uncanny, moody shades. Roeg's symbolic direction is sufficiently custom-fit with his usual brassy stylish imprints, and casual sense of pacing.
There are two novels out there, but the material is taken off Lucy Irvine's version, "Castaway", which was soon followed by Gerald Kingsland's book "The Islander".
While it might not have a lasting powerful stamp of his other achievements. "Castaway" is still a creditably solid and lyrically transfixing opus.
Far from Nicolas Roeg's best, but "Castaway" is an interesting curio that pulls you along for a very offbeat, psychological drama than what might seem like a relaxing pastoral getaway. Alan Scott's adapted story opens up as a thoughtful jaded power-play between two characters, impeccably performed by Oliver Reed and Amanda Donahoe. While the sporadic script comes across literately trivial in the growing situation, than actually delving deeper into the character's past and motivations. Something about this down-played metaphorical search for acceptance, communication, fulfilment, obsession and inner discovery is unpredictably planned out.
It's quite a warped spin on the island dream, as you observe and get involved with the feelings being shrouded about and their journey now to survive. Nothing comes easy, and both realise they have to work hard for their dreams. What was their choice to escape the madness and restrictions of society eventually becomes their downfall because there's nothing there to shape their daily lives. There you could escape your problems, but on an island you got to live with them and overcome them to move on. Gerald seems to be the go-getter from the very beginning, but it's Lucy who adapts to the island life. This is a surprise as the tables are turned with the muscularity card. Lucy is the resourceful one, not afraid to shy away compared with a loafing Gerald's relying on her. This gives her power (a sexual one) over the lazily whiny Gerald, and her inner strength and confidence makes her the object of affection, or better put lust to Richard. She uses this sexual edge to her advantage, and spends most of the time flaunting about in little or no clothing. The hardship makes her stronger, but he gets weaker. The real pettiness that Lucy shows Gerald, is deservedly so. As he hides his pain, and uncomfortable side with erratically insane behaviour. That's until he finds a purpose, then she sees the true person he is, than the one she had been stuck with for most of the year. Now the attention she drew from him is clouded and the true notion of them roughing it out on the island is lost with the intrusion of mechanical devices, locals from another island and food supplies making it much easier to cope. It's no longer about survival, and depending on each other. Where left trying to figure him out. Both are self-seeking persons with their own goals for this journey. She's there to be apart of the island, but he has his eyes on her. Humour can be found in some sharp witty passages, and there few amusing darkly twisted exchanges. Reed's hearty performance is one of complexity, intrigue and tremendous versatility. His let loose. A ravishing Donahoe terrifically grows with her independently headstrong performance.
A true calling card of Roeg is the visually enigmatic experience he emits from his productions. Reality and fantasy convincingly milked together, and not with the usual fractured editing style that he incorporates. It hasn't got that vagueness; open-ended feeling that usually ends with his films. Incidentally there's a strange surreal punch done in a more clear-cut fashion finding its way in, but it's the whimsically mediative illustrations of nature doing what it does best that engraves many striking, and at times dreamy images. Blending the beautiful with the jarring. Harvey Harrison's scenic photography work is masterfully projected, and admirably frames the lush pristine locations (stunning water shots) to the desirably leering lensing of Donahoe. Stanley Myers silky melancholy music score wraps itself with many uncanny, moody shades. Roeg's symbolic direction is sufficiently custom-fit with his usual brassy stylish imprints, and casual sense of pacing.
There are two novels out there, but the material is taken off Lucy Irvine's version, "Castaway", which was soon followed by Gerald Kingsland's book "The Islander".
While it might not have a lasting powerful stamp of his other achievements. "Castaway" is still a creditably solid and lyrically transfixing opus.