William Hurt has a failing restaurant in Newfoundland and an estranged wife in Washington D. C. He and friend Andy Jones -- who's building a small submarine -- discover a lot of cocaine in Hurt's wine cellar. After they establish it is good cocaine (so to speak), Hurt starts a rumor that a type of duck thought extinct has been spotted in the bay his isolated restaurant sits on. Suddenly people start showing up to look for the duck and eat, and his first hire is Molly Parker.
It's a very low-key comedy, as the heat develops between Hurt and Miss Parker, Jones' submarine gets an outing, and some guys who are obviously not birders set up in a Winnebago near the restaurant.
Hurt has always been a puzzle to me as a movie star -- and, according to reports, to himself as well. He moves slowly from inert, depressed lump to hopeful lump and I can see the emotional journey, but it's the situations and fog-bound images that held my interest. The movie itself is a paean to the polite eccentrics of Canada.
