This eternal-triangle desert-island-castaway yarn gives itself away on the DVD cover with a rather ridiculous, over-sultry, airbrushed action shot of Kelly Brook and the caption "Kelly finally bares all" (even though she tried suing to stop them showing the bits where she - almost - does). There is even a sticker proclaiming "FREE large Kelly Brook poster inside". This, despite the fact that Billy Zane doing his second rate Jack Nicholson impersonation, gets top billing: the only means to sell this film is that it's a chance to get a glimpse of Kelly in the buff.
Actually, this is a phenomenally astute piece of marketing because the only possible reason that you would want to actually WATCH this film is if you want a chance to get a glimpse of Kelly in the buff, assuming you'd missed her in most of the UK men's glamour mags for whom she's already stripped. If you are a rabid fan of Miss Brook, then you should buy the DVD, add the title of the film to the current star rating, pin the poster to your wall, watch, enjoy and read no further.
For the remaining 99% of the population, you should save your money (even Amazon's bargain rental fee is a rip-off in this instance) and put the poster into the paper-recycling bin. This is a film that could have been a tense, psychological thriller with decent casting, directing and a decent script (imagine Jack Nicholson, Antonio Banderas and Kim Basinger being directed by Hitchcock with a Troy Kennedy-Martin script). In the hands of the Europeans, it would have been dark, sensual and introspective, laced with black humour (think Truffaut or Medem); it could even have been a piece of highly charged eroticism. This tries for all three and comes nowhere near succeeding with any: there is no tension, sexual or otherwise, just a series of largely unrelated events with a ridiculous "deux in machina" plot-line involving a slighted ex-girlfriend's voodoo antics that substitutes for any logical plot or character development. There is no subtlety, one-dimensional characters, verbal and visual clichés and such nudity and frolicking as there is, is done with the cloying coyness that only the American cinema can manage. The lowlight comes when she skips into the evening sea naked (so as not to have to sleep in her permanently pristine white bikini whilst wet) only to walk out obviously wearing the bottoms.
There is so much better to choose from in this genre: Dead Calm, Lost ... even Blue Lagoon that there is really no excuse for this film