Deadly Furniture

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides is a fantastically boring disaster of a movie that will leave even the most devoted of fans (read: me) considering fleeing the theater rather than sleep through…err….watch the rest of the film. I know. Harsh. But it really is that bad. Twenty minutes in I was wondering how much longer this thing was going to drag on and, although I was pretty sure that there would be an ending scene after the credits, I fled rather than put up with Hans Zimmer for one more second. Let’s start with the new characters. Taking the lead is Penelope Cruz as Angelica who, well, exists solely to be a love interest for Jack Sparrow. She’s the daughter of Blackbeard (Ian McShane) whose pretty evil and, on top of all his evilness, has stolen the Black Pearl. On Blackbeard’s ship is a missionary whose name, IMDB has just informed me, is Philip (Sam Claflin). He eventually falls for a mermaid he names Syrena (Astrid Berges-Frisbey) and it‘s all crazy and open-ended. Philip is there because Will is off dealing with dead people and Syrena is there because Elizabeth is waiting for a green flash of light.

The thing about new character/enemies/young attractive people is that they have to be in some way likable/useful. I know a lot of people are down on Will and Elizabeth, but everyone can at least admit this: they had interesting moments and their characters created interesting moments for other characters. Jack’s friendship with the couple made him the person that he is by the time On Stranger Tide comes in. However, this movie’s new characters mainly seem to be part of some bizarre side-show to the main events. Philip and Syrena as people and characters barely affect Jack and Angelica doesn’t bring any of the passion or intensity that Elizabeth and Jack had. Blackbeard, for all his creepy powers, pales in comparison to our good friend Davy Jones. Jack never acts really afraid of him, so why should we?

No, the only moment when the movie shines is when it remembers its roots. An opening sword fighting scene reminiscent of Will and Jack’s first meeting makes you remember better days. There’s also a moment when Geoffrey Rush and Johnny Depp are actually allowed to act. By now, Depp is so comfortable playing Sparrow that it becomes glaringly obvious. He just needs to say :”savvy“ once in a while and we‘re all supposed to call it good. But there’s this moment when Barbossa describes losing the Black Pearl to Blackbeard and you smile--because this is a good moment. This is a moment when two captains share their love for a ship and connect as old mates. This is a moment where we can tell that Rush and Depp are high-caliber actors. But of course that moment passes and we’re back to overly-ridiculous escape plans and over-used gags because our smile even has a chance to fade.

Without the characters, the plot quickly loses control and as the action shifts from setting to setting, from sunny weather to foggy weather, from one character to another, from this bizarre directorial decision to that horrific musical choice, I quickly stopped caring. Because at least two more sequels are already in the works, I was pretty sure Jack was going to make it and I was equally as sure that Jack Davenport wasn’t going to rise from the dead, Orlando Bloom wasn’t going to arrive on his cool new ship, and Elizabeth and her son weren’t going to stop by to say hello. And you know what? I was predictably right.

Will I give the next one a chance? Probably. Remember, I’m a fan. Or I was. Now, however, I’ll have to add a caveat to it. Just like with Indiana Jones. “Well, I’m a fan of the first three.”