Monday, 23 May 2011

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

We didn’t really need a Pirates of the Caribbean 4. Well, arguably we didn’t need the third film either, amusing though Keith Richards’ cameo may have been. Frankly the franchise would have been best-off stopping at a standalone classic, though I’ve generally enjoyed the series, and the second film remains the fourth highest-grossing of all time (non-inflation adjusted). The sequels were inferior, but still generally fun – the original, on the other hand, was genuinely good.

So what of the fourth film? Not much made me feel very excited. Bloom and Knightley ducked out, which was shrewd. A whole new plot unconnected to the trilogy was suggested. Penelope Cruz – an actress almost synonymous with ‘hit and miss’ – and admirably grizzy-voiced but uncharismatic Ian McShane were announced. On the plus side, the plotline was to be based on the novel On Stranger Tides, which Ron Gilbert freely stated on his blog was the major creative influence on The Secret of Monkey Island – which Disney really should acknowledge as influencing Pirates. And hey, I’m yet to tire of Depp’s inspired performance as Jack Sparrow, or of his foil in now-double-Oscar-winner Geoffrey Rush’s Barbossa.

While the connection to On Stranger Tides made me intrigued, though, ultimately the story was only inspired by it, and not exactly stunning – the biggest contribution it seemingly made was in tone, and Pirates of the Caribbean was already on the light and amusing side. Story-wise, it goes like this: the Spanish have been given strong information about the location of the legendary fountain of youth. The King of England wants the waters of the fountain for himself, so captures Jack Sparrow – said to have been there himself – and commands him to guide an expedition there, with Barbossa as captain after his turning privateer. Jack has other ideas, however – someone has been impersonating him, and also happens to be gathering a crew for an expedition to find the fountain. After investigation, narrow escapes and buckling of swash, it turns out that the impostor, believable only in very dim light, was Penelope Cruz’s Angelica character in what is probably a vague nod to Anne Bonny dressing as a man. She is recruiting men for Blackbeard’s ship Queen Anne’s Revenge, the man himself there, firecrackers and all. That is about where historical references end, save a fleeting reference to Juan Ponce de Lyon.

Blackbeard ‘zombifies’ his most trusted men and uses a magical sword to make his entire ship do his bidding. He can use voodoo dolls and shrink whole ships down to fit into bottles. A prophet in his crew has warned him that he will soon die at the hands of a one-legged man, and he believes that his only hope is to get hold of waters from the fountain of youth, which will ensure he lives on. With Barbossa and the Spaniards, there are three factions vying for the prize.

In a daft collection quest, those who wish to use the Fountain must procure two specific chalices and the tear of a mermaid. The rest is an overlong padded adventure to secure these items, followed by a climax whose only surprise is the motivation for the Spanish faction. Ultimately, the action is fun and the simple background romances and intrigues effective enough, but there are two many holes, both major and minor. If Blackbeard’s aim is to drink the water because he knows he’s going to die, why does he end up putting himself in the position where he’s bound to get killed rather than escaping from it? It’s not as though he’s honour-bound. If the Spanish only want to do what they succeeded in doing at the end, why did they take the time to go for the chalices? How did the adorable cabin boy manage to get away from the mermaids?

Not really a film to be over-analysed, it was nonetheless not quite coherent enough to work, or to make its long string of action sequences feel excusable. The Depp and Rush show is a good one, but can only last so long, and a new director only managed to offer more of the same rather than bringing in any new flavours – albeit delivering it with skill.

And bring on the inevitable Shakespeare In Love-related quips about Judi Dench deserving an Oscar for her performance.

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