At the height of "Survivor" mania a couple of months ago, Hollywood wags were worried about what that show's success meant for the big-budget prestige picture Cast Away, the first collaboration of director Robert Zemeckis and star Tom Hanks since their blockbuster Forrest Gump. Would audiences already saturated with the "real-life" antics of a bunch of "average" Americans pony up the dough to see a fictional version starring Mr. Average American, Tom Hanks?

I think those Hollywood types were worrying about the wrong thing. They should have been focussing on Cast Away itself. The title is a hint: why Cast Away (as in "thrown away by Fate") instead of the more conventional Castaway? Because what Hanks and Zemeckis have wrought is (almost) the antithesis of a Hollywood film; Cast Away is an art film, and a very good one at that. I would even call it an existentialist art film if I didn't think that might inspire readers to immediately look for an alternative title to see...

A pudgy Hanks plays Chuck Noland, a man constantly travelling the world thanks to his commitment to his job as a systems controller for Federal Express (a company that benefits here from the mother of all product placement arrangements-the opening ten minutes play like an extremely ambitious Fed-Ex commercial). Forced by the exigencies of his job to fly off at Christmas, he heads for his plane with a jaunty "I'll be right back!" to his love Kelly (an underused but effective Helen Hunt). We, of course, know better.

Noland is marooned alone on a desert island following one of the most gut-wrenchingly realistic plane-crash sequences ever committed to film, a sequence that makes the famous train-crash scene in The Fugitive look like B-movie special effects. It is here that the movie begins to move from entertaining and effective to subtle, moving and almost profound, not to mention nearly silent-there are almost 40 riveting, dialogue-free minutes that allow the amazing sound design to come to the fore and provide Hanks with the opportunity to show his substantial acting chops.

Busying himself with the tasks that will make survival possible such as locating food and water sources, finding shelter, and devising ways to keep the isolation from driving him mad, Noland demonstrates the kind of ingenuity and creativity that have propelled whole civilizations toward new discoveries and artistic advancements. In fact, the island portion of the film can be read as a subtle and beautifully realized paean to Humankind's inherent ability to deal with hardship and the painful, inexorable passage of time through artistic and scientific means. The ingenious calendar that Noland devises and the art works that eventually grace the walls of his cave serve as just two examples of this.

Hanks' transformation from an overweight "Master of Time" (every aspect of his Fed-Ex work revolved around the ultimately impossible task of controlling that slippery concept) to a trim-to-the-point-of-gaunt wild man-now a victim of Time and its devious cousin Fate-is remarkable. He gives Robert De Niro in Raging Bull a run for his money on the physical transformation front (although, to be fair, Hanks was rumoured to have caught amoebic dysentery on location, which no doubt "helped" with his weight loss...).

When, after many years, Noland is finally rescued and returned to his former life, the film falters a bit before righting itself. Without giving too much away, suffice it to say that, while Zemeckis and company feel the need to underline the points implicit throughout (a very Hollywood thing to do but not, in this case, fatal), they show the courage of their convictions and refuse to give us the expected Hollywood conclusion. For this reason alone, Cast Away is worth cheering about.