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PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN (yellow)
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Arrr, and ahoy, me hearties, t'honor National Talk Like A Pirate Day (September 19, 2003; http://www.talklikeapirate.com/), we set ar jib fer th' inky blackness of Sumvul T'eatre t' take in Pirates o' th' Caribbean, where finer period furniture was ne'er chewed and dirtier teeth were ne'er smoiled t'rough.
Enter Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp, EDWARD SCISSORHANDS, BLOW, FEAR AND LOATHING, and other measured roles) –Captain Jack Sparrow, kohl-wearing, eye-rolling, limp-wristing, rum-swilling, Cockney-talking, beard-plucking swishbuckler who comes grandly ashore in Port Royal as his single-masted dinghy sinks under him into the harbor bottom ooze. In short order Jack clashes swords with earnest swordsmith's apprentice Will Turner (Orlando Bloom, LOTR), besotted of courageous maiden Elizabeth Swann (me beauty Keira Knightley, BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM after an uncredited turn as Queen Amidala's double in ATTACK OF THE CLONES) ever since she, daughter of the colony's vacillating periwigged governor Weatherby (Jonathan Pryce, THE PLOUGHMAN'S LUNCH, BRAZIL, and CARRINGTON, among other quirky roles, here giving a singularly incongruous performance), spotted him floating adrift on a raft of sunken pirate vessel, clutching a mysterious golden coin with an Aztec inscription around a grinning skull's head ….
Further plot evocation would be, to paraphrase Jack Sparrow, so… pedestrian. Of course we have stalwart stoic stiff Commodore Norrington (Jack Davenport, best known for the hip British vampire police-procedural series ULTRAVIOLET) who in clipped tones proposes marriage even as Elizabeth falls from the castle walls in a corset-induced faint, and rotten-to-his-teeth Captain Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush, reprising his capacity for polysyllabic degeneracy from QUILLS). Depp's distracting and –eccentric– performance notwithstanding, this movie (adapted from a Disney theme park ride) is scarcely more than an excuse for the best special effects seen in these waters for many a moonlit night: skeleton pirate armies, black-sailed death's ships, underwater battles, kung-fu-inspired swordplay (directors are still suffering from CROUCHING TIGER guy-wire hangover) and more gold than in Davy Jones' locker, arrr.
Because nothing busts the fictional dream faster than a word out of place (like an 18th century girl saying, "Okay") designing a postmodern adventure fable (THE PRINCESS BRIDE's sensibility applied to KIDNAPPED, as it was doubtless pitched) meant to appeal both to adults and children requires a curious fidelity to the period. All the characters carefully stand in their time with fearfully serious mien – except of course for Jack, a post-modern stoner who cannot take anything seriously (for what proves later to be good reason), and Elizabeth, a post-feminist heroine who keeps her proud dignity even when stripped to her dressing gown or when shrugging on a Marine's red coat to battle scalawags and scurvy dogs.
The film is marred by too much noise, too many trampolined stunt men flying legs a-flail after too many gratuitous improbable explosions, too much pointless running around, and an entirely illogical and jarring quasi-interlude where Jack and Elizabeth are stranded on the proverbial desert island. But against that are many delicious moments, including multiple evocations of the Pirate's Code.
Well, not so much a code as – guidelines….