Review: Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

Directed by Rob Marshall

Starring: Johnny Depp, Penelope Cruz, Geoffrey Rush, Ian McShane, Kevin McNally, Sam Claflin, Richard Griffiths

Grade: C

The Pirates of the Caribbean series - rather like Piers Morgan, or a sugar-rushed younger sibling - is a commodity that annoyingly won't go away. While it has retained a level of watchability throughout, only 2003's opener, "The Curse of the Black Pearl," falls anywhere close to a coherent action-adventure film. The previous two instalments were particularly zealous in piling on characters and story strands to generate suspense within the narrative, and rashly so: Verbinski's 'more is more' approach left perilled characters marooned in thanklessly overblown action sequences and token romances. Enter "Chicago" director Rob Marshall to rescue the tired franchise -- a man who needs a little rejuvenation of his own, given that his work ever since that 2002 musical has fallen on seemingly deaf ears.

"On Stranger Tides" begins having excised the ivory inefficacy of Orlando Bloom and the porcelain smirk of his bourgeois wench Keira Knightley. Produced four years after "At Worlds End" (the other three films were completed in that same space of time) there has clearly been a move towards resurrecting the basic approach of "Black Pearl," with its modestly-layered formation of black magic, romance, and personal gain. The addition to the "Tides" arsenal comes in the form of Ian McShane as Blackbeard and, particularly, Penelope Cruz as his estranged daughter Anjelica, a steamy ex-lover of perennial favourite Captain Jack Sparrow. This time out the pesky historical artefact of desire is the Fountain Of Youth, of which the age-reversing powers are sought after by several characters, including the monarchs of England and Spain.

As much as is regained by banishing Bloom, Knightley, Hollander, Davenport, Crook etc. is cancelled out by the tendency to fall back into similar habits and rhythms. The reined-in cast list and cleaner script allow for us to at least surmise where each character roughly is at any given time, and there's a decent plain of scope upon which to observe the ruckus and swagger. And still, as is with many 21st century period depictions, "On Stranger Tides" has a pretty dull and sketchy view of London in this time period, emulating the recent travesty of Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes in turning a bustling wonderland of a city into an ugly, characterless platform for its stunts and chases. It's astonishing that twenty years after Steven Spielberg created such a vibrant haven of fantasy and magic in Hook (regardless of the film's other faults) current action adventures find it so difficult to provide dimensionality to their locations. A trip to Nightcap Bay (where mermaids love to massacre) is a recovery in this regard, but it still feels as if the visual techniques of the Pirates mould are erring recklessly towards grainy and saturated mise-en-scene.

So too unimproved is its flippant alteration of protocol to suit the needs of the plot, as "On Stranger Tides" asserts on more than one occasion that size really doesn't matter. An effigy of Jack Sparrow demonstrably causes direct pain to the Rum-swilling gent when held under a naked flame, but doesn't kill him when it sinks to the bottom of a rocky river never to be seen again; Ships are resurrected from the depths of the sea and confined to miniature glass bottles for later use. Even as a fantasy/adventure story (this is no Master and Commander) there's an alarming amount of screenwriting licence used to drive the narrative towards its close. Partly through giving them individually more to do,"On Stranger Tides" is aided by the gracious dynamism of its actors in gunning towards the conclusion, neither hampered by lack of screentime or bad jokes (at least mostly). Rush's Barbossa has rarely been more fun than in this episode's winning chemistry with Depp (in a reprise of a reprise of a reprise), both in their infiltration of a Spanish military camp, and in a silly-but-relatively-tame scene in which he and Sparrow attempt to balance a precariously stranded ship.

As can often be said about projects that round up more money than one can shake a stick at, the "Pirates" crew have had their day - even with a fourth film that bests the two that preceded it. It's more structured and inclined towards making its story coherent; less frantic, or eager to charm, but it still isn't particularly successful at doing any of these things, and doesn't show enough imagination or overhaul in tackling a Georgian world that feels as ticklishly familiar and predictable as it ever has. If Depp's Sparrow once wanted to know where the rum had gone, he now needs to ask where the magic has gone; "On Stranger Tides" mixes it up, but it's still a lukewarm chowder of flimsy quests, saccharin love stories, and a man with a fondness for eyeliner. 

Addicts 2007: Best Actor in a Leading Role

Best Actor in a Leading Role

Daniel Day-Lewis
There Will Be Blood

Enough has been said about Day-Lewis as the dark, ruthless Plainview. He is indeed the frightening, towering everything that people say. When I watched There Will Be Blood it shook me because you just don't see films as volatile, uneven and downright gutsy, and I can't imagine what a strange situation it must have been to be involved in the making of it. Most of the film flows through DDL's character but for me this film does not belong to him, and neither does it belong to director Paul Thomas Anderson, or original novelist Upton Sinclair. The entire film feels untamed and so, really, Day-Lewis' job stretches far beyond that of portraying a literary figure. His Jekyll and Hyde job (the self-evaluative nature if not the compassion of Jekyll) ensures that the random shifts between scheming, meditative oil-man and uncontrollable eccentric monster feel as terrifyingly huge as an 80's power ballad, and a loose and organic allusion to human nature.



Benicio Del Toro
Things We Lost In The Fire

I started to write a review for Things We Lost In The Fire the day after I saw it, but later realised I was only really writing about Benicio Del Toro. The refreshing thing about his performance as a struggling heroin addict is that he doesn't seem to want or need your sympathy. He's visibly troubled but in a way that serves as an acknowledgement of addiction and its power over him. Del Toro gets the balance perfect, sustaining Jerry's potential as a productive long-term presence in the Burke family, juggling the sadness of his best friend's death and the guilt and depression of his recovering drug habit in a way that escapes false theatricality. He's the perfect choice for a character that's perhaps painted a little too cleanly by the film at times -- ironic, I know -- it's that modest effortless charm that makes him 'special' in a way you know he'd never want to be. The biggest weapon in his armery those come-to-bed eyes, which can make me a lovesick teenager and a ponderous wannabe-reformist all at once.

Emile Hirsch
Into The Wild

In many ways Hirsch reminds me of Leonardo Di Caprio's Jack in Titanic; young, fresh-faced, plucky, bold, content to be lost in a world so much bigger than his adventurous aspirations. Perhaps this is why it's easier to accept both their mortal punishments, but Hirsch doesn't have the luxury of a romance (at least an overt one) or a sinking ship to chronicle his development as a character. He is able to imbue so much thought about identity and purpose with his comfortable, reflective temperament, his placid tone a reminder that McCandless was someone eager to shrug off judgement and labels, and even ideology itself. On the face of it it may seem as if this boy was crazy, but things are only 'crazy' if you don't understand them. Hirsch may not have to run the gamut of emotions in every scene, but at the end of it all I felt like I understood him, and for a guy that was roaming the desolate West alone for almost all of his adult life -- that's an achievement.



Shia LaBoeuf
Disturbia

His troubled, misunderstood badboy demeanor forming the basis for Disturbia's continual sense of injustice, Shia's Kale is a 'have-a-go' hero of the most convincing stature, driving our interest through his.

Taken from review

LaBoeuf is undoubtedly the babyface badboy of a commercially-driven, and fascinatingly self-aware project, but while the film takes a lot from Rear Window, it puts a lot more pressure on its star. He has to inhabit the film's ideas about a rebellious, misunderstood generation, while exercising his dynamic hero status to the max. While Stewart's interfering neighbourhood watch was much tamer, LaBoeuf's Kale pushes things too far on more than one occasion and yet Shia emerges as a rash victim more than an unruly teenager. The true 'performer' in this excellent bunch of men, his character, a teenage hero in an action thriller, calls for more flair than Deerfield, Sunborne, Plainview or McCandless, and his boundless energy sells every bit of Disturbia, and makes for a manic and entertaining time. Slick, smart and sexy.

Tommy Lee Jones
In The Valley Of Elah

Paul Haggis' film is one that requires Tommy Lee Jones' Hank Deerfield to become an amateur sleuth in the quest to find the murderer of his son. Elah doesn't achieve any of what it wants to say (which is itself frustratingly vague) through overt, crass symbolism, and so its up to Tommy to hammer some of it home through the grief-stricken ex-Colonel. Jones' work, which somehow manages to come across as poignant, is laden with layers, and transforms a predictable character into someone worth studying. It's all in what he doesn't say; the methodical nature of the military man at the forefront of his character Deerfield is an intent and driven animal for most of Elah, but only to mask his engulfing grief. Jones can express his loss without having to be emotionally open, exposed without knowing it, or wanting to know it. And when called upon to deliver the cracks in Hank's emotional blockade (the main purpose of which is often to further the investigative elements of the story anyway) he does so with such guilt and self-loathing that you feel as if you've done well to obtain anything from this man. A man that gives so little away.

Winner: Shia LaBoeuf - Disturbia

Runner Up: Benicio Del Toro - Things We Lost In The Fire

Sad To Exclude: James McAvoy in Atonement, who has several heartbreaking moments but overall perhaps has less to do than the five men here. Chris Cooper, for a strange but nevertheless enthralling turn in Breach. Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson, whose performance in The Game Plan is flat-out hilarious. Josh Brolin, Johnny Depp, Glen Hansard, I salute you.