I can't imagine a better feeling to have as the credits are rolling at the end of a film than the one I got from Cast Away.

I knew I could give people a definitive answer to the favorite movie question.

The films I enjoy most are not of a particular genre, but rather are the ones that are successful in achieving what a work of their type sets out to do.

Cast Away does exactly that.

And the ending gave me hope for the movie industry.

Chuck Noland (Tom Hanks) is a Fed Ex executive whose motto in the world of delivering packages is "we live and die by time."

Talk about foreshadowing.

Chuck's necessary evil accessory, his pager, interrupts a Christmas dinner with girlfriend Kelly Frears (Helen Hunt), rudely informing him of an immediate business trip.

On his way to the plane, Chuck yells something to Kelly that this movie has taught my superstitious self never to say again: "I'll be right back."

Chuck's plane goes down in one of the most frightening cinematic scenes I've ever watched. The picture through the cockpit window of the storm-ridden sky suddenly turns to a close-up of the even darker ocean.

Upon impact, the plane becomes a virtual fish tank, with packages, oxygen masks, and Chuck bobbing and thrashing underwater.

In a nightmarish spectacle, he is hurled back and forth between the plane's underwater carcass and the roar of the flaming, dying engines at the surface.

Chuck wakes up in his rescue raft, looking almost comical in his winter attire on a stunning tropical island, as if he accidentally fell into a commercial for the Caribbean.

His actions from here on out are so methodical and sensible that one can't help but be in awe of what he does.

In an occupationally reflexive manner, Chuck collects the washed up Fed Ex packages and arranges them near his raft-turned-shelter.

Following numerous failed attempts at opening coconuts, Chuck is able to devise an effective strategy to obtain sustenance.

Personally, I doubt I would have been able to crack one.

He opens the packages to find what will later be crucial supplies: a pair of ice skates, videotapes and a dress.

I kept hoping one would contain a cell phone. (Says something about our latest obsession on campus, doesn't it?)

Chuck pulls through adversity after adversity. I know I'd give up.

This is what gave Cast Away greatness — it made me think. Not only about how I need to join the Boy Scouts or something to learn how to start a fire, but also about the tenacity of spirit.

Without the human interaction necessary for survival, Chuck gives a face and an identity to one of the packages, a volleyball he names Wilson. Their relationship is fascinating. He makes up a voice for Wilson in his head and the two converse accordingly. Wilson is Chuck's sanity. Wilson keeps him human.

Also remarkable is the transformation Hanks makes for Cast Away. When we see Chuck on the island 4 years later, his sun-bleached hair and beard stick together in a mass of snarled, matted curls atop his newly lean body; Hanks is said to have lost 40 pounds, mid-filming, for the role.

The excitement of Cast Away peaks as Chuck undertakes the major project leaving his island.

Just when I thought I couldn't be more enthralled with a movie, the ending gave me even more to delight in. Cast Away turned its back on Hollywood endings.

I was not left feeling settled on what would happen next, in magnificent contrast to the neat bow tied around the end of too many movies. The simplicity was absolutely refreshing.

As Chuck reminds us, tomorrow, the sun will rise, "and who knows what the tide could bring?"