Here's a review of the new "Pirates" movie. Don't worry, I think this is all 
I have to mail you for the present!
 
_http://www.frederica.com/writings/pirates-of-the-caribbean-at-worlds-end.html
_ 
(http://www.frederica.com/writings/pirates-of-the-caribbean-at-worlds-end.html) 
 
 
Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End 
What a perfect confection the first "Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the 
Black Pearl" (2003) was, droll and thrilling, marvelously fresh. The unexpected 
enthusiasm it received demanded a sequel or two, and the people obliged to 
supply them have my sympathy; it's hard to do a sequel on "fresh."  
Last year's fling, "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" (2006) opted 
instead for quantity, shoveling great reams of shouted dialogue, 
incomprehensible plotting, and CGI effects into an overlong framework. It's 
hard, I admit, 
to see what alternatives they had. The original was a creampuff, put together 
without any intention of sticking around year after year; it wasn't 
constructed to bear that much weight.  
In the third film, "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End," the franchise 
does a better job of stepping up to the obligations imposed by longevity. 
There are sequences that are visually rich and complex, rather than merely 
busy. 
There are more attempts at "What's it all about, Alfie?" moments of reflection. 
The music is grander and more melancholy, in a way that would have sounded 
like putting-on-airs in the first film. And the opening scene is surprisingly 
grim, showing an entire community--men, women, and children--being put to death 
by hanging, for the crime of aiding pirates. Though this is bizarrely 
ahistorical (more about that later), it certainly sets a tone.  
There are some wonderful visuals in this film; when a vast waterfall, filling 
the horizon, first swung into view, I was tempted to applaud. A fight scene 
between two ships twirling in a whirlpool was edge-of-the-seat stuff. (A 
character swelling up to 50 feet and then exploding into a billion tiny 
crustaceans 
was less impressive, and had less effect on the plot than you'd think.) But 
the film also has the sense to forge some of the wonder from human characters, 
rather than big battle scenes alone. Nine pirate lords assemble from around the 
world, with their colorful entourages, to convene the "Fourth Pirate Court," 
and it's so strange and funny and charged with delicious details that alone 
it's worth the price of admission. At last there's a reference to replace the 
30-year-old "Mos Eisely Cantina" (the space-alien bar in the original "Star 
Wars"); now it will be enough to say, "It was like a Pirate Court in there."  
The three central characters are back, played by the same three stars, and 
each does solid work, though the magic is wearing thin. Take "witty Jack 
Sparrow." It's become the stuff of legend that Johnny Depp, hired to play this 
pirate 
captain in the first film, developed a character so eye-catching that he 
stole the show from its lovely and much-younger leads, Orlando Bloom (playing 
Will 
Turner) and Keira Knightley (as Elizabeth Swann). The original Jack Sparrow 
was bold and daring and had plenty of pirate in him, but in the sequels he's 
been diminishing into a mere rascal. We're reminded too often that Captain 
Jack's highest concern is saving his own skin, which suggests unbecoming 
cowardice. 
All that flouncing, preening, wobbling, and grimacing work fine in contrast 
with stereotypical piratey-ness, they're great as pepper on a steak. But the 
steak itself is disappearing, and the character sometimes verges on tedious. 
Will Turner, meanwhile, is maturing and gaining confidence and strength as he 
copes with the challenges of pirate life. I'm sure the script says that's 
what he's doing, but it's hard to see in Orlando Bloom's performance. Bloom was 
perfect as the polite, awkward youth of the first film, who discovers depths of 
courage when it's needed, and who is intoxicated by first love. In the 
current expanded role he's able to execute everything required, without ever 
making 
it personally believable. We register admirable professionalism rather than 
true character depth. Perhaps someone this young just can't play a role this 
seasoned.  
Bloom can at least deliver subtle facial expressions when necessary, but 
Keira Knightley has only one setting: stubborn. (Sometimes it's stubborn plus 
fuming.) In the first film she was a damsel in distress, in the second she got 
to 
do some yelling, and in this one she's so hung about with swords, guns, and 
clubs that she clanks when she walks. She's been promoted under principles of 
pirate gender equality and never betrays the feminist pirates who came before 
her; she never adjusts her demeanor to include hesitation, tenderness, mental 
reflection, or even fatigue. Her motto is Semper Fight. There may be arguments 
for setting Elizabeth up this way, but it unfortunately works against making 
other elements of her character (her love for Will, or even her lust for Jack) 
believable. 
These characters and the many others in this overpopulated third film are 
tossed around by a plot that I followed badly. I don't think, actually, that 
the 
plot is that complicated. It's just hard to catch. Dialogue is either shouted 
or delivered in a menacing whisper, in any of a half-dozen accents, under the 
loudest available weather conditions. At 2 3/4 hours, what bit the cutting 
room dust was no doubt the extra moments that confirm to a viewer that he "got 
it". We are repeatedly being told about betrayal, though following who's 
betraying whom was beyond my ability, and we don't have much investment in 
these 
relationships in the first place. People in these films don't look each other 
in 
the eye. They circle around and past each other, saying insinuating or wrathful 
things, but don't engage in what we'd recognize as conversation. Revelations 
and reversals have little impact, because the commitments are not firmly set 
up in the first place.  
Chow Yun-Fat is dandy as pirate Captain Sao Feng, Geoffrey Rush is a bit too 
repetitive as Captain Barbossa, and Bill Nighy again brings a sweet edge of 
sadness to Davy Jones. Naomie Harris repeats her sly role of Tia Dalma, though 
we still don't know who slipped her that practical-joke gum that turns your 
gums black. Tom Hollander is especially good as Lord Beckett, because he knows 
how to hold back, a trait not abounding in the Pirates series. When Davy Jones 
reports to him, sputtering that "I am not a mongrel pup, to come when called," 
Beckett quietly observes, "Apparently, you are."  He also gets to inform Jones 
that his type of supernatural entity is no longer needed in the modern age: 
"The immaterial has become-immaterial." Beckett gets some of the best lines in 
the film. (Jack's are better, I think, but went by too fast to write down.) He 
also gets an exquisite exit from the story, gliding in tranquil slow motion 
down the ship's deck in a hail of bullets and shattered wood.  
Early on there's an extended sequence that will strike viewers as stranger 
than anything the series has done so far-a surreal episode that may spring from 
Jack's hallucinations, or may be simply what life is like when you're "At 
World's End." Young folks may find it disturbing (though worse is a late scene 
when Davy Jones attacks a man's face with his tentacles; add that to the 
balance 
when deciding whether to take your kid.) This surreal sequence has a Terry 
Gilliam-"Time Bandits" feeling to it, and audiences are likely to split on 
whether they like it or not (I did).  
Less likeable is the absurd opening premise, that the East India Trading 
Company has gathered so much political power that they can suspend the laws on 
a 
Caribbean island and execute anyone who befriends a pirate. Perhaps we need a 
refresher course in what pirates are. Just as a carjacker steals your car, 
pirates steal your ship. A pirate ship would come alongside their victim, 
invade 
it, then kill and rape and throw overboard at random, keeping cargo and 
valuables for themselves. They had those skull-and-crossbones emblems for a 
reason. 
At one time, travel on the seas meant taking your life in your hands, and if 
that danger is rarer now, it's because brave men still fight pirates. A small 
square white-on-black bumpersticker reading "Pirates are Mean" might be 
educational.  
So the inference that the British government killed civilians in order to 
save merchandise from pirates is outrageous; governments killed pirates in 
order 
to save civilians, and it's a good thing. (In 1719, the bloody pirate captain 
Stede Bonnet was hanged in the park that lies a few blocks from my childhood 
home. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stede_Bonnet ) This attempt to recast the 
underlying story as a conflict between romantic pirates and powerful 
corporations undercuts the dynamic necessary to give any pirate story a good 
jolting 
start. In the first film, the pirates were sexy bad guys; now they're gentle 
people with seaweed in their hair. If by the next film they're marching in 
protest 
outside Walmart headquarters, it may be earnest, but it won't be much fun.  


********
Frederica Mathewes-Green
www.frederica.com



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