I am a journalist, Robert.
I have little interest in fancy.
You, Daniel Defoe, are a writer.
It is your destiny as such to bring the man's story...
a story of struggle, friendship and undying love to the world.
Well done. Well done.
Full of life, death, passion.
You could indeed give up publishing for the stage
Tell me, what relevance has this fine story to a scribe like myself?
Yes, Daniel, you are my favorite impoverished scribe.
And what is this?
A recently discovered journal of one Robinson Crusoe.
- Then this tale is true. - Every word.
The travel log of a wayward seaman.
Read this journal.
I am confident you will find a great interest in the story he has to tell.
And so my story begins like so many other stories, with a woman.
For as long as I can remember, Mary McGregor and I planned to marry.
However, as the McGregor family grew more prosperous...
so too did the fortunes of the Crusoe family dwindle.
As a result, the woman I loved was betrothed...
against her will to my dear friend Patrick Connor.
Patrick knew of our bond, but he didn't release Mary from their arrangement.
- It need not end this way. - How then?
Cease the engagement, disgrace my family?
Patrick!
We were friends once.
Does that not count for something?
We were friends, Crusoe.
But we are friends no longer!
Then we shall fight.
She is to be my wife, Robin. It is God's will.
You know Mary and I loved each other since childhood.
- Patrick! - This is not your fight, James!
You're not like your brothers.
Don't be like your brothers.
You will never be together!
Patrick!
Dear God, forgive me.
He's dead, sir.
Murderer.
Take your horse, sir.
- I'll not leave. - Go now!
Murderer!
I told him I didn't love him.
- Yet he fought? - You both fought.
What are you saying? Do you believe I'd willfully kill my friend? I walked away.
- You accepted his challenge. - Would a man known better than to fight?
- His brothers will seek vengeance. - They have already.
He was my friend.
I would never have wished such a terrible fate on him.
You must leave now. It is not safe for you anymore.
- Will it ever be safe for me? - Time will heal this wound.
I will explain to Patrick's Family. They will come to understand.
Go with the coachman. You can trust him.
He will take you to Edinburgh and arrange your safe passage.
Come back wiser for the experience.
In a year... I'll return.
Then we shall be wed.
If it is thirteen months, shall I marry another?
I love you.
I will always see your face before me.
A year.
No longer
And so I took to the seas. The one place there I knew I would be safe.
For many months we sailed the great oceans of the world.
We docked at mysterious scented islands under the Southern Cross.
We swam with mermaids and we carried fabulous cargos...
of silks and spices, jade and mahogany.
Then once even we carried a human cargo of slaves.
Providence had decreed me a man without a country...
yet I was not without a purpose.
Though I had served in His Majesty's army, it was my academic background...
and my intimate knowledge of history that led the captain to call on me...
to chronicle our journey through the written world.
Enter.
Captain's compliments, Mr. Crusoe.
Thank you. Shut the door.
Though Patrick's death brought about my exile...
it was the thought of Mary...
that I would have her hand in marriage upon my return...
that kept my spirits strong as our voyage continued.
Our little ship had met and bested foul weather on high seas...
in three oceans. Sometimes the storms would last a week or more.
But I grew ever more confident in the skills of our captain and crew.
What do you see in the crow's nest?
- Batten down the hatches! - Batten down the hatches!
Aye, aye, sir!
Over here!
We're going down! We're going down!
Give me your hand!
- Give it to me now! - I can't!
- Help! - We've run aground!
As I took my first steps in that unknown land, a dread came over me.
I began to realize how terrible was my condition.
Hello!
As I laid my companions to rest...
I confess my thoughts were for my own soul.
I did not know in what land I had been cast, in what country...
among what nation. Nor whether I might endure a single night here...
let alone a week. Or a month.
I spent the night not daring to imagine what dangers might prowl...
or crawl beneath me. And sleepless for thinking how I might survive...
the next day without food or weapons or human company.
But as the sun rose, so did my spirits.
I saw the ship's hulk had caught on the reef where she had foundered.
On board I might find food and drink for my sustenance.
And this gave me fresh hope.
Hello! Is anyone there?
Our ship lay so on the reef that only half was filled with water.
The forward parts were dry and there I found powder and weapons...
and provisions.
I discovered the carpenter's chest.
Being a gentleman, I had little experience with the tools.
Nevertheless, there and then, I resolved I would learn.
The ship's longboat had been dashed to pieces by the storm...
but I found the part of an upper deck torn away.
I used this as a makeshift raft.
Thanks to an incoming tide and a gentle breeze...
my modest craft took me straightaway to shore.
I began to feel not a little proud of my achievements... so far.
And so I reckoned my fortunes were on the up.
I had provisions for a month or more, tools and good timber...
even good company in the captain's old dog, Skipper.
There you go, Skipper.
That's it. No more.
You find your own food.
I was now making daily excursions away from the shoreline.
Penetrating further and further into the interior of my domain.
I knew only that we'd been sailing some miles from the coast of Guinea.
And I had in mind the possibility that my soil was connected to mainland...
where I may happen upon some human civilization.
I'm on an Island.
In order to keep watch daily for the first ship that would pass...
I resolved to situate myself as near the coast as possible.
The weeks turned to months, and still no sighting of a ship.
But I truly believed it must come to pass.
Some vessel I would sail by my shore sooner rather than later.
Skipper!
Be quiet! Quiet, Skipper!
Oh, my God!
Come back!
Come back! I'm here! Come back!
Fire! Fire!
Come back, please!
Please!
It was on that day I came to see I must no longer rely upon chance...
or fate or divine intervention for my survival.
But solely on my own efforts... as a man.
And I found, as time went by...
I began to grow even found of my island.
I have not been idle with my time on the Island. Even so...
my thoughts continually turn to the life I left behind.
Skipper, come here.
What you'll hear is the sweetest sound on heart.
The spirit of Scotland.
Robin.
My thoughts of Mary inspired me. I knew one day I would return.
I erected a monument to mark my landing here.
Upon it, I've scrupulously recorded the days of the week...
and the months as they pass since my arrival on the island.
One year, Skipper.
A whole year.
How many fantasies tormented my mind...
as I made for the security of my castle?
Fancying every bush and tree stamp to be a man.
Afflicted with such terror that I could imagine Satan...
had taken human shape and left his print upon my shore.
From somewhere came sounds I believed I'd never hear again.
Human voices, to be sure.
But voices unlike I'd ever heard before.
Stay!
Stay here!
Don't be afraid.
I'm your friend.
Give it to me.
Come on.
What are you doing?
I saved your life back there!
I want to be your friend.
How can I make you understand?
Friend.
I... am... your... friend!
Food.
Here.
Gift. Peace.
You want the gun? Oh, no. That's very powerful.
If you try to take this, I will kill you, and I don't want to kill you.
You're my friend.
Food.
Stop!
Blasphemy.
How could I have imagine being a friend to this savage?
I saw now he was from another world...
one surely ruled by Satan.
I, Robinson Crusoe...
would guide and protect my Kingdom against all evil.
Skipper!
Prepare yourself! Seems we've a very unfriendly heathen on the island!
Little did this pagan know but his adversary was trained as a soldier.
So he would be facing one skilled in strategy and the military arts.
It is hard to describe my conflict of emotions.
In all these two years, I'd longed for the company of another human being.
And now we were enemies.
Hunter and prey.
And he was out there somewhere on my Island.
Stay away from me, you black heathen bastard!
Leave it alone.
Leave the bloody thing Alone. You hear me?
That's it. Blow your bloody brains out. Go on.
Give me the gun.
That's it.
Give me the gun!
Come here, come here, I'll give you this. Look, look.
Up. Up.
Easy.
You understand danger?
Death!
Who are you?
What are you?
Look.
That he was a savage was indisputable.
And yet he seemed to be a decent fellow at heart.
In time. I might even turn him from his pagan ways.
Perhaps this was my mission.
What's your name?
How about Hamish?
I had a brother, Hamish.
What day is it? Thursday?
No, it's Friday.
Friday?
Friday.
Friday, Master.
Master, Friday.
Master.
Friday.
Aye.
Friday.
Sleep here.
You... sleep...
here.
Just till the morning.
Food.
Stay here.
Food.
Master.
Stay.
Stay, stay.
Come here.
I had wronged this poor honest savage, and I was sorry for it.
It became clear that I could not have found a better creature...
to be subject to my benevolent rule.
At least, that is how I saw it then.
Friday became constant and diligent in his work...
and proved to know a great deal about planting and harvesting crops.
Indeed, to my surprise, he even begun to instruct me.
In time, I made it my mission to teach Friday the King's English.
After 6 months...
I was astonished he learned the language with such proficiency.
Yet other aspects of Friday's education...
proved more arduous.
Friday, I'd like to talk about God.
- God? - Your maker. Your creator.
God.
He made everything. He made you.
- Pakia. - Pakia?
- Pakia, God. - Crocodile.
Before long time... no land... only water.
- That's in Genesis. - Pakia live in the water.
He make tingpopo.
- He make tingpop. - He made the sun and the moon.
Sun and moon marry. They make baby. Man
Make all men. Make me.
No... God made you.
- Pakia. - You can't worship a crocodile!
Why not? Teeth of crocodile.
Does this crocodile... this Pakia...
- tell you to eat human flesh? - Make strong.
We eat fish, swim good.
You eat lizard, climb good.
You eat heart... make strong!
This is pagan blasphemy!
The true God is greater and more powerful.
The true God is love.
He teaches us to love our enemies.
Pakia...
is not God.
Show me God.
- I cannot show you God. - I show you Pakia, you show God.
You cannot see God.
He is in the spirit. He's in the soul.
I see spirit in the trees.
I see spirit in the trees and animals. I see everywhere.
Here... here is God! Here is the living proof of God.
His sacred word. This is the living testament of His love.
His wisdom. His divine plan, here.
- Where? I see no God. - No, you fool, you must read it.
Look what you've done, you heathen savage!
This blasphemy and your soul shall be damned to eternal torments.
I no like your God.
I no like you.
Forgive all who trespass against us. Against you. Against you. Oh, Lord.
I knew I should come to regret my harsh words.
Whether Friday was the better for our meeting, I do not know.
For I had good cause to thank Providence for sending him to me.
And so. I'm alone again.
I manage well enough without him. I eat well. I live tolerably well.
But I find I begin to miss him as a companion.
It's been several weeks now.
Our path cross from time to time.
We do not speak, we do not communicate.
In my history studies, I'd chronicled the religious wars that plagued...
mankind since the beginning of time.
How sad. I thought that in this universe of two...
religion had now put us at our own war.
Yet something had to be done.
Friday.
We can't carry on like this.
Two of us on the same island, not talking, not sharing.
I'm sorry for the things I said.
Everything I did.
I was angry.
I apologize.
I want you to come back.
Good fish. Eat.
- That's it. Come on now. - That's it. Come on now.
So now we were 3.
And I heard once again the sound of human laughter... his and mine.
Let's get the loser.
- That's it. - I win.
- Come on.
I win.
- I win. - You've cheated.
- Let's take the bigger one. - I'm the winner!
I hadn't forgotten who it was that had brought Friday to my island, nor...
that they'd return. The Nimas were the dominant tribe on Friday's Island.
And Friday had been offered by his own people as a tribute to these savages.
Sunguma. Power.
Gun powder.
This.
This is what Nimas come for. This dust makes them powerful.
Great warrior.
Then they will come back.
So I determined to be ready for them.
Like hunters setting traps for animals, we prepared our welcome.
I explained to Friday that this white man's magic...
would insure that our enemies go to meet their god Pakia...
rather sooner than they anticipated.
Dear Lord...
I thank you for the time I shared with this faithful creature.
He was my friend.
Does Skipper goes to Crusoe's heaven?
Dogs don't have souls, Friday.
Only people have mortal souls.
Only people go to heaven.
Too bad. Good dog.
Friday ask Pakia to look after dog's spirit.
The lessons of humility do not come easily to a stubborn soul.
Once I had thought mine was the only true path.
Now I was no longer sure.
The Nimas will come back.
With new moon, many, many warriors will come. Want your magic.
We can't fight them all. We could build a boat, go to your island.
- We can't go there. - Why not?
We cannot go. Can never go.
I am a dead man. This island of dead people.
Well, we will be if we stay here.
We build boat. You go to your island.
If only I could.
My island's on the other side of the world. Many, many moons away.
What name your island?
Britain. Great Britain.
Britani.
Nua Britani.
You know Britain?
Not so long. One moon maybe.
You mean New Britain?
Right name Uua-ma-tupiit.
White men call it Nua Britani.
You have seen white men?
My father told me about white men long ago.
Not good.
White man, he take much everything. Not give back.
Take land, take people. Tanga people.
Make people slave.
You not white man, Master.
You good man.
If your island is close to New Britain, we could go there.
I cannot.
- Don't ask me, Master. - My name is not Master!
My name is Robinson Crusoe.
Crusoe, aye.
What name is Master?
White man.
I am slave to you?
It was a mistake.
I'm not your slave!
No, you're not my slave. We are friends and we can live as friends.
We can build a boat— We can leave!
You gave life, I cannot kill you.
- Better I go kill myself. - Then stay on this island and die.
But I will build a boat! And I will live!
My stupid arrogance had lost me my dear companion for a second time.
And I was alone again.
If what Friday said was true...
it was a month's travel to New Britain...
one of his majesty's colonies off the coast of New Guinea.
But my time was short. I had to go before the next full moon.
The typhoon season would soon be here.
I knew I would have to leave soon or miss my chance.
If I had not already done so.
How I regretted my thoughtless words.
The chances were that I would never see my friend again.
I am not slave!
I know, Friday!
You're my friend!
I tell you my spirit name.
Only spirit, me and Tanga big men know.
Why're you telling me this?
Crusoe gave life.
Not say more.
Give power of bird. Fly safe to land.
Quickly.
Fearing it might be a tempest as violent as that which cast me on...
this islands, we brought our livestock to what shelter we could devise.
We waited together to brave the storm...
which indeed proved more fierce than any before.
No time to build new boat.
Moon nearly big.
Nimas come. Many, many warriors.
There's no place to hide.
We'll have to fight them. We may die.
Dying not important. All men die.
What matters is how you die.
Then we'll die like warriors.
At last full moon...
I knew that several of the Nimas had escaped our trap.
So this time, the enemy would know we were there.
Our only ally would be our ingenuity and what gunpowder remained to us.
Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.
Give us this day, our bread.
Lead us not into temptations... but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever.
Amen.
I do not know how long I had lain there while Friday ministered to me.
I felt little pain...
but a coldness spread through every limb.
I don't want to die here.
You stay with me till... Please?
Then go back to your people.
- Cannot go. Can never go. - You must.
Friday's dead man.
Cannot go back from here.
I am dead to my people.
I am tanuang.
This island of dead men.
No one ever leave.
I don't want to die here.
As he was offered for sacrifice, Friday was considered dead to his people.
In many ways, a fate worse than death.
As he could never again be accepted amongst his own tribe.
Ironically, this dead man...
was my only chance for life.
Friday.
Friday!
Robin.
Robin!
You live.
Friday take care of you.
Friday take you home.
Having neither the provisions, nor...
in my case, the sense to aim our sails for New Britain...
Friday and I set out for his nearby island.
While Friday believed his people could cure me of my ills...
his fate was far less certain.
I could not count the day we were on the sea.
With God's grace, we encountered only fair winds.
And with Friday as our guide, we sailed safely to his island home.
Friday!
You be better.
She use magic leaves.
Your wife?
Was my wife. She thinks I dead when Nimas take me.
Not come back, she marry a new man.
Am I an evil spirit?
They think you are a slave trader.
Many times white man come and take many warriors,
many young men for slave.
Take my son.
Oh, Friday.
They think I bring you here to make them slaves.
If I'm an evil spirit, why does she help me?
You sick man.
Not good to kill sick man. Bad manner.
He prays to the gods.
What are they saying?
We fight. One of us die.
If I kill you, I can stay.
- If you kill me, you can go. - I cannot kill you.
I will not kill you.
I am a dead man.
No wife. No man child. Is better to die like warrior.
I will not fight you!
You must!
Kill both of us!
I can't do this!
Almighty God...
welcome me to paradise if I am worthy!
- Kill me and live. - I cannot kill friend.
Do it.
Come on! Over here!
This way. Come on!
Don't worry. These savages can't harm you now!
And so fate had saved her harshest trick to last.
Just as a duel had cause me to flee my native land...
so too did the battle between friends bring about my return.
I was to owe my freedom to the men who had killed my friend...
who had ravaged his people and his family.
The slavers nursed me back to health and then put me ashore at Lisbon.
There I was taken aboard a merchant ship.
Six years after my departure from Scotland...
I came home.
It was he who gave you the journal.
Yes.
Robert, I must write this.
- You miss him, don't you? - He saved my life.
He brought you back to me.
A wiser man?
Perhaps.
So Mary and I settled down to marriage and a family for our own.
We were blessed with happiness and prosperity. But...
for the rest of my days, I would think often and long of the man...
who'd given me the greatest gift of all:
My life, when I'd all but lost it.
And his friendship until death.