I've read accounts of kids dressing up as pirates for the new
Pirates of the Carribean movie, and my first reaction was "Will Kiera Knightly still be less pretty than Orlando Bloom?" followed with "Huh."
I like that the kids are putting forth the effort. But my first thought was "Am I that freakin' out of touch?" I applauded the goofy, geeky fun of the father and son with towels around their heads at the
Hitchiker's showing. I wanted to beat the crap out of any guys I've ever seen in
Star Wars outfits. But I was perplexed by the pirates and their popularity... until our web manager Jeremy expressed his confusion by the new
Pirates movie shattering all box office expectations and being, what like the
Number Onest Number One Movie of All Time? Jeremy hasn't seen the first
Pirates, and truth be told, he ain't interested. He doesn't go in for a touch of fantasy or sci-fi, something that's slightly off center. Unlike
Amy who can be coaxed over to the side of "Yeah, this probably isn't going to happen, but it's a pretty decent story" from time to time, Jeremy is not that guy, that's not where his tastes lie. Which is perfectly valid way to be.
Except I will never understand it. Most people, maybe they dig fairytales. Or maybe they're hardcore SF fans. Or maybe they'll watch zombies get the crap kicked out of them because it's a condemnation of a society so hell-bent on materialism and capatalism that it doesn't see when it starts to cannibalize the very principles it was founded to protect and cherish. Plus it's cool when zombies get blowed up. Stories with an inhereit improbability, a lack of "this could happen" framed around a good story.
You may love
The Princess Bride and
Star Wars but not give a hang about
Lord of the Rings. Maybe
The Matrix leaves you cold but
Raiders has you giddy and clapping like a school girl. I submit:
Pirates is a success because of three letters: j-o-y.
Joy.
The first movie is a story about a young woman freeing herself from societal, famial, and contextual bonds. You've seen the movie, yes, the first one? Yeah, Jack wants the Pearl, Will wants Elizabeth and to know his place in the world, but the catalyst, the pump-primer is beanpole Knightly. Even when she's not full acutalized, she's pretty much there. And her actions have a sense of joy.
Johnny Depp's Captain Jack is nothing but freedom (or want of freedom) personified. He exemplifies the pirate lifestyle (there's much to made arguing Sparrow's real place in the story and his demi-god status as the aider and abetter to Will and Elizabeth but I'm already running late). Sparrow owns and operates in the joy of living and breathing.
Yeah, it's got great actors, good effects, great pacing, superior direction and a stunning color palette, all adding up to these little girls putting on pirate outfits in Small Town USA for the 1:30 p.m. Sunday showing. J-o-y. That's what I'm saying.
Which is not to say the new
Pirates is the same as the old
Pirates.
That review is forthcoming.
HUGE SPOILER FOR THE MOVIE FOLLOWS THIS LINE. STOP READING IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO SPOIL THE MOVIE FOR YOU.Really? I'm going to spoil the movie.
The only moment of pure joy I remember from
Dead Man's Chest is Jack's death scene. No, after the Kracken snots on him: "Hello beastie," then we get that spectacular shot as the music swells and Jack raises his sword, running TO death. He knew it was coming, and in that moment he still had confidence (confidence being the not the abscence of ambiguity or doubt but choosing to face it head on expecting the best possible outcome) in himself to meet certain death head-on. Jack is flawed, for sure, but his character is about being free and making choices, refusing to believe there are no more options,
willing options into being.
With no other course of action available to him, Jack meets death with the same zest and joy he met life.
Jeremy would say that movies are not places to "learn" "life lessons." If somebody walks out of the theater contemplating their personal follow-through when staring death in the eyes, I'd say that's pretty decent food for thought from a movie produced by Jerry Bruckhimer.
