So, I went down this weird wormhole trying to discern how many years have passed in Jack Sparrow’s life from Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl to Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales. By the breadcrumb trail I’ve pieced together across a troubling number of Wikipedia entries, I’ve arrived at a number: 100 years.
If the first one begins vaguely, “in the late 17th century,” and if this new one features a guillotine—first used publicly in France in 1792—this has been a long, strange century for Jack and company. I mean, someone on the island where our fifth Pirates installment begins has a Herschel telescope. Homie didn’t even invent the 40 footer until 1789! And it’s not like this kind of technology (see: guillotine) quickly disseminates to remote island colonies. So, yeah, a century in-universe. Come at my numbers.
Anyway, what does this matter? It doesn’t! And by extension, how much more is there to say about this or any other Pirates movie? To adopt the pirate affect, she be what she be. The assertion is POC:DMTNT is the end of the adventure, though one of the two (two? two.) credited directors has already teased that this is merely the beginning of the end of the adventure. But as we all understand the current climate in Hollywood—N.F.E.R.D. or No Franchise Ever Really Dies—a new branch of critique has emerged in my reconnoitering of films. A mixture of defeatism and pleasant surprise, all hail the arrival of, “it’s better than it needs to be,” cinema!
So, the good news is that POC:DMTNT is better than it needs to be. The bad news, is this real life? I can’t claim to have invented this rubric, but last summer around the release of The Legend of Tarzan (which is so much better than it needs to be that it’s actually almost mostly good) my friends and I started to use the descriptor more and more. How can a movie possibly be better than it needs to be? Well, certain properties are going to perform no matter what happens between the margins.
Do you remember how ghastly bad the last Pirates movie was? It did, and you’ll want to sit down for this, On Stranger Tides did $1.045 billion—with a B—at the box office. By this measure, why bother making a good movie? Like, why fuss with rewrites and reshoots and so on if a massive turd is going to yield gold bricks? I know this is profoundly cynical, and undercuts the many good people working hard on these movies, but if you see those numbers, what is the incentive to raise the bar? But hey, old man Monte will creak his sad, unfranchised bones off of the soapbox and talk some Pirates, because that is what this is about. Right?!
There are some the goods in this one. First and foremost, the gold star goes to Kaya Scodelario. Her turn as Carina Smyth is the highlight of the cast of characters. Her damsel is distress proofed, a hero, thinker, astronomer, and general swashbuckling badass. Also, if you ever need to class up the joint, add a Javier Bardem. You’re already trending in the right direction. But the meat and potatoes for any Pirates film are the set pieces, and this one has a couple of real gems. Going into greater detail would ruin the explosiveness, but there is some zeal injected back into these pirate-y hijinks. Also, big shout out to runtime. Where the 168 minute slog of At World’s End is a distant memory, it’s noteworthy that Dead Men Tell No Tales checks in at a nice, sober 142 minutes. The picture moves at a brisk pace, and it’s digestible, never bogged down in overlong sequences or explanatory chicanery.
The bads? Let’s remember Johnny Depp as he was, shall we? Young, lithe, and not yet an inescapable parody of himself. The sea has him now. Also, Paul McCartney. Just...why? You didn’t need to offer more evidence as to why you’re my least favorite Beatle, but why? You don’t need the money. Just, but…why tho? Youngface. Youngfacing—the hottest new Hollywood trend as utilized by Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and POC:DMTNT—is where we take a moment to digitally recapture how handsome working actors over 50 used to be. Sorry ladies! And where I call to remember Johnny Depp as he was, I did not mean like this. The script. The character dynamics are cursory at best, and at times downright silly. Overall, the story is pretty limp. Ultimately, when we’re brought to our moment of emotional catharsis, we’ve been asked to make almost no investment in the players or their conflicts. As such, the payout resonates accordingly.
All of this mills out to a pretty average film, but Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell no Tales is better than it needs to be. Though the question persists, is this or any franchise willing to put in the work to be its best self? To aspire to something beyond a crudely drawn caricature to be passed off as complete enough to return a profit? Only time will tell, and let’s hope it doesn’t take Jack Sparrow another century to find out.
If the first one begins vaguely, “in the late 17th century,” and if this new one features a guillotine—first used publicly in France in 1792—this has been a long, strange century for Jack and company. I mean, someone on the island where our fifth Pirates installment begins has a Herschel telescope. Homie didn’t even invent the 40 footer until 1789! And it’s not like this kind of technology (see: guillotine) quickly disseminates to remote island colonies. So, yeah, a century in-universe. Come at my numbers.
Anyway, what does this matter? It doesn’t! And by extension, how much more is there to say about this or any other Pirates movie? To adopt the pirate affect, she be what she be. The assertion is POC:DMTNT is the end of the adventure, though one of the two (two? two.) credited directors has already teased that this is merely the beginning of the end of the adventure. But as we all understand the current climate in Hollywood—N.F.E.R.D. or No Franchise Ever Really Dies—a new branch of critique has emerged in my reconnoitering of films. A mixture of defeatism and pleasant surprise, all hail the arrival of, “it’s better than it needs to be,” cinema!
So, the good news is that POC:DMTNT is better than it needs to be. The bad news, is this real life? I can’t claim to have invented this rubric, but last summer around the release of The Legend of Tarzan (which is so much better than it needs to be that it’s actually almost mostly good) my friends and I started to use the descriptor more and more. How can a movie possibly be better than it needs to be? Well, certain properties are going to perform no matter what happens between the margins.
Do you remember how ghastly bad the last Pirates movie was? It did, and you’ll want to sit down for this, On Stranger Tides did $1.045 billion—with a B—at the box office. By this measure, why bother making a good movie? Like, why fuss with rewrites and reshoots and so on if a massive turd is going to yield gold bricks? I know this is profoundly cynical, and undercuts the many good people working hard on these movies, but if you see those numbers, what is the incentive to raise the bar? But hey, old man Monte will creak his sad, unfranchised bones off of the soapbox and talk some Pirates, because that is what this is about. Right?!
There are some the goods in this one. First and foremost, the gold star goes to Kaya Scodelario. Her turn as Carina Smyth is the highlight of the cast of characters. Her damsel is distress proofed, a hero, thinker, astronomer, and general swashbuckling badass. Also, if you ever need to class up the joint, add a Javier Bardem. You’re already trending in the right direction. But the meat and potatoes for any Pirates film are the set pieces, and this one has a couple of real gems. Going into greater detail would ruin the explosiveness, but there is some zeal injected back into these pirate-y hijinks. Also, big shout out to runtime. Where the 168 minute slog of At World’s End is a distant memory, it’s noteworthy that Dead Men Tell No Tales checks in at a nice, sober 142 minutes. The picture moves at a brisk pace, and it’s digestible, never bogged down in overlong sequences or explanatory chicanery.
The bads? Let’s remember Johnny Depp as he was, shall we? Young, lithe, and not yet an inescapable parody of himself. The sea has him now. Also, Paul McCartney. Just...why? You didn’t need to offer more evidence as to why you’re my least favorite Beatle, but why? You don’t need the money. Just, but…why tho? Youngface. Youngfacing—the hottest new Hollywood trend as utilized by Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and POC:DMTNT—is where we take a moment to digitally recapture how handsome working actors over 50 used to be. Sorry ladies! And where I call to remember Johnny Depp as he was, I did not mean like this. The script. The character dynamics are cursory at best, and at times downright silly. Overall, the story is pretty limp. Ultimately, when we’re brought to our moment of emotional catharsis, we’ve been asked to make almost no investment in the players or their conflicts. As such, the payout resonates accordingly.
All of this mills out to a pretty average film, but Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell no Tales is better than it needs to be. Though the question persists, is this or any franchise willing to put in the work to be its best self? To aspire to something beyond a crudely drawn caricature to be passed off as complete enough to return a profit? Only time will tell, and let’s hope it doesn’t take Jack Sparrow another century to find out.
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