Three
| Year: | 2005 |
| Production Co: | Future Films Ltd |
| Director: | Stewart Raffill |
| Writer: | Stewart Raffill |
| Cast: | Billy Zane, Kelly Brook |
Yes, it looked like a dreadfully trashy erotic adventure, and yes I only got it because Kelly Brook was in it, she was busting out of a bikini for most of the film, and she was on the cover with this chainlink thing through which you could see her arse. At no time did the outfit appear in the film, so the DVD producers apparently bought a stock shot of her from a softcore photo shoot somewhere and put it on the cover to get people like me in.
But here's the surprising part; despite writer/director Stewart Raffill undoubtedly casting Brook as his female lead to secure funding and sales, and despite making liberal use of the most attractive aspects of her performance, it's actually a quite serious film. As the young wife Jennifer, she's not falling out of her costume waiting to be ravished by a man, teasing incessantly and given lines worthy of a B movie bimbo.
It is (dare I say it?) a well-done if not good film, eager to actually tell the story of a trio of attractive people stranded on an island, not just show their pecs and tits.
When Jennifer and rich husband Jack (Zane) board a yacht with two friends for a holiday, they don't bargain for the hotheaded deck hand Pablo causing a fire onboard and making them all abandon ship.
Only Jennifer and Pablo survive and reach the idyllic island, and in trying to survive together a little more than companionship starts to bloom, especially as Jennifer has nothing to wear but a white string bikini and a yellow windcheater.
But Jack is washed up days later, injured but alive. As they nurse him back to health the movie takes a slightly silly turn as it turns into a jealousy tale that descends into a thriller, ending with at least one participant determined to kill the others because of sexual jealousy. It's Lord of the Flies by way of the Playboy channel.
Much to the disappointment of viewers everywhere who'll watch it for the flesh, there's only one sex scene that's almost tame enough to be shown on TV, and only a small handful of glimpses of the delectable leading lady in her glory.
You won't get what you came for, but you will take something away from it, and despite his subject matter, Raffill deserves more than the reputation he's probably received (if he has one other than as the director of a quickly forgotten bomb).
Always interesting to see Zane, who's swung between the A and Z lists so many times in his career he could be said to have the largest range of any actor alive.
But here's the surprising part; despite writer/director Stewart Raffill undoubtedly casting Brook as his female lead to secure funding and sales, and despite making liberal use of the most attractive aspects of her performance, it's actually a quite serious film. As the young wife Jennifer, she's not falling out of her costume waiting to be ravished by a man, teasing incessantly and given lines worthy of a B movie bimbo.
It is (dare I say it?) a well-done if not good film, eager to actually tell the story of a trio of attractive people stranded on an island, not just show their pecs and tits.
When Jennifer and rich husband Jack (Zane) board a yacht with two friends for a holiday, they don't bargain for the hotheaded deck hand Pablo causing a fire onboard and making them all abandon ship.
Only Jennifer and Pablo survive and reach the idyllic island, and in trying to survive together a little more than companionship starts to bloom, especially as Jennifer has nothing to wear but a white string bikini and a yellow windcheater.
But Jack is washed up days later, injured but alive. As they nurse him back to health the movie takes a slightly silly turn as it turns into a jealousy tale that descends into a thriller, ending with at least one participant determined to kill the others because of sexual jealousy. It's Lord of the Flies by way of the Playboy channel.
Much to the disappointment of viewers everywhere who'll watch it for the flesh, there's only one sex scene that's almost tame enough to be shown on TV, and only a small handful of glimpses of the delectable leading lady in her glory.
You won't get what you came for, but you will take something away from it, and despite his subject matter, Raffill deserves more than the reputation he's probably received (if he has one other than as the director of a quickly forgotten bomb).
Always interesting to see Zane, who's swung between the A and Z lists so many times in his career he could be said to have the largest range of any actor alive.