Heche plays a fashion-magazine editor, a role that allows her to wear fabulous cruise couture and make plenty of cynical wisecracks. She's on an island paradise courtesy of David Schwimmer, in the thankless role of wimpy boyfriend. On a hop to Tahiti for a photo shoot, Heche and crusty old pilot Harrison Ford crash-land on an uninhabited beach and find themselves with a plane full of hotel-surplus alcohol, several stylish outfits (albeit with a tragic shortage of bras), and little hope of rescue. While Schwimmer falls for a local girl, Heche and Ford develop the standard grudging respect for each other in the course of dodging pirates and trying to escape.

It's refreshing to watch the leads giving every ounce of their energy to this tired plot. Heche isn't self-conscious about appearing ridiculous, a useful skill for a comedienne, and she holds the screen well against a proven leading man. Ford channels Nick Nolte to create a gruff, chapped persona with that slightly pathetic, hurt tone that hasn't failed him since Star Wars. He's Heche's match in every way except chemically; no sparks fly, but the foundation for a lasting friendship seems to develop, which makes the closing kiss-and-fade-out scenes more superfluous than usual for this genre.