PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: AT WORLD'S END

If junk-food can be supersized, why can’t junk-movies? Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End is the equivalent of a Mega Monster Triple McWhopper with Cheese, Bacon and Large Bucket of Fries, designed - indeed, guaranteed - to leave you in a stuporous trance, chewing mechanically even though you’re long past feeling sated. Actually, that may not even be the best analogy. Don’t think of it as one burger but an all-you-can-eat buffet of many different burgers, any one of which might be enough to feed a small family. There’s no way to finish it all, so don’t even try. It’s purposely overstuffed, guaranteed - indeed, designed - to have the multiplex audience coming back for seconds, assuming they must’ve missed something cool the first time.

The film is schizophrenic, especially about matters piratical. One minute it’s taking the piss, the next it’s playing things straight. Johnny Depp, of course - as Captain Jack Sparrow - is our designated ironist, slouching down the sillier byways of this pirate lark. Pirates really aren’t very imaginative when it comes to names, he points out, adding that “I once knew a pirate who’d lost both his arms and part of his eye”. “So what did you call him?” “Larry.” Nice one, Cap’n - but then, when the cutthroats attack and the order comes to “Hoist the colours!”, the film goes into full-on swashbuckler mode, with rousing music and shots of sails being unfurled. Like Captain Jack (who’s cannier than he seems), it constantly treads a thin line between casual parody and red-blooded adventure.   

Can they really have it both ways? It’s not impossible; in fact, my favourite pirate movie of all time - The Crimson Pirate (1952) - is as much spoof as swashbuckler. But it takes a light touch, which this Pirates assuredly doesn’t have. Instead, it has plot - more intrigues and double-crosses than any film needs, or wants. Plot-lines pile up, including: (1) the quest to convene the Pirate Council and face the dastardly Lord Beckett; (2) the quest to steal Davy Jones’ heart from Beckett and/or (2a) kill Jones himself, even though whoever does the deed must then take Jones’ place aboard the ‘Flying Dutchman’; (3) whether Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) should save his father, lost in servitude aboard Jones’ ship, or (4) settle down with the fair Elizabeth (Keira Knightley); (5) whether Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) should free the goddess Calypso who incidentally (5a) was once in love with Davy Jones; (6) whether the audience should try and keep it all straight or just veg out and enjoy their popcorn. That last part is known as the sanity clause.

To be fair, there’s more to enjoy than just popcorn. Depp’s pantomime act is much overrated but he does have a glancing, elegant style that keeps the film humming. “Jack Sparrow, you made me a great insult once!” roars an angry pirate. “Oh? That doesn’t sound like me,” he replies, politely puzzled. Strangest of all is the way he’s always seemed detached from his own franchise - and self-centred solipsism is made literal in Pirates 3 when Jack Sparrow dreams about a ship crewed entirely by Jack Sparrows, like the “Malkovich Malkovich” scene in Being John Malkovich (he also tends to see two mini-Jacks in times of crisis, standing on his shoulders like angel and demon). There are glorious images, like a low wide-angle shot of a ship being pulled across a flat white vista, or countless little boats ferrying the dead to Davy Jones’ Locker with a burning lamp in each one. There are quick tributes to Sergio Leone and Attack of the 50-Foot Woman. One can even see the constant deal-making and double-dealing as a film about Hollywood itself, a town where “old friends” habitually back-stab each other in the name of “good business”.

Then again, that’s just my own list of pleasures (and not much of a list, for a 168-minute movie). I don’t include the spectacular climax where our heroes fight both Davy Jones and the King’s armada, because it’s lazy and doesn’t make sense (what’s the armada doing while the gang engage the ‘Dutchman’? why do the other ships retreat after Beckett’s is destroyed?). I don’t include the “agreeable sense of the macabre” which the film uses for spice - a pirate accidentally snaps his own frostbitten toe off; another drops his glass eye; an entire column of civilians is hanged in the opening scene while a declaration is read announcing the suspension of civil liberties, trapdoors opening and feet sticking out at each mention of “suspended” - because I found it inappropriate, but some may shriek with laughter. Everyone will have their bits and pieces - and maybe no-one ends up liking the whole bloated enterprise, but that’s okay too.

What’s the real Pirates 3? An old-fashioned adventure where pirates slink downriver using straws to breathe through? A sardonic comedy where Depp asks “How’s Mum?” and Keith Richards (as Dad) produces a shrunken head as proof of his conjugal devotion? A lively slapstick with bodies flying through the air and Keira Knightley reaching back into her trousers to pull out a monstrously huge pistol? Is it too smart for its own good, or too cynical? And why is it so damned long?