Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End

| May 26, 2007

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End isn’t only a movie with a long-ass title… it was also the longest, most excruciatingly painful movie I’ve ever had to sit through. Watching this flick was like having sex with a fat, ugly chick–messy, all over the place and in need of some serious trimming. Perhaps I’m not making myself clear enough: At World’s End is the worst goddamn movie of the year.
I don’t know what it is about third installments this year that are turning out to blow. First, there was Spider-Man 3, then Shrek the Third, and now At World’s End. These were supposed to be the three most entertaining movies of the year! And things don’t look good for Rush Hour 3 or Resident Evil 3, due out later this summer. Here’s hoping Ocean’s Thirteen will come through in a few weeks. It killed me to hate At World’s End as much as I did, because I really did enjoy the first two flicks. While the original took multiple viewings for me to enjoy, I liked last year’s Dead Man’s Chest from the get-go. This time, I would rather put a shotgun in my mouth and put and end to my world than watch At World’s End again.
The writers had absolutely no fucking clue what they were doing. What is this movie about? Can anyone explain it to me? I felt retarded because I couldn’t follow the plot, but I learned afterward that no one in the audience had any clue, either. Almost every scene was extremely plot-heavy, usually involving some type of deal between multiple characters on future plans. And something about the eight pirate captains getting together for something? Eventually, you’ll probably stop trying to follow altogether and sit back waiting for the big final battle to come. Sadly, the final battle looks like something that came out of Joel Shitmacher’s Batman and Robin.
The action sequences are extremely cartoonish. Characters swing from ropes in constant motion for 10 minutes at a time, flaming monkeys fly out of cannons (seriously), and ships sail around in giant ocean vortexes. Not to mention the fact that there are only two battle sequences throughout its three-hour run time, and neither one of them is the slightest bit entertaining. Then, you have the fact that the script makes no fucking sense whatsoever. This movie is nothing like its predecessors. It’s confusing, illogical and, ultimately, bizarre. Many scenes have a touch of surrealism to them, and I felt like I was in a dream sequence (either that, or high on ‘shrooms). Jack Sparrow spends the first portion of the movie in the afterlife, or as the script calls it–“Davy Jones’s locker.” In this afterlife, Jack is the captain of a ship featuring a crew of multiple Jack Sparrows. Then, rocks on the ground turn into crabs and try and attack him. And even after his friends come and snatch him from the dead, Sparrow still talks to himself through strange figments of his imagination, such as two mini-Jack Sparrows that live on both his shoulders. And then you have that freaky witch lady from Dead Man’s Chest turning into a giant witch lady, only to then turn into an army of crabs, only then to turn into a storm cloud, only then to turn into a giant underwater vortex. Did Keith Richards write this fucking screenplay?! What the fuck does any of this have to do with pirates?!
All the characters were ruined. Typically these lame subplots are overthrown by Johnny Depp’s performance, but not this time around. I counted maybe three one-liners from Sparrow. That’s it! Orlando Bloom was annoying as ever and what was up with Keira Knightley making out with virtually every male character in the movie? What a whore. Oh, and don’t get excited about Keith Richards. He’s only in it for five minutes, and he looks so God awful and coked out of his mind that you can barely understand him. Other annoying actors include Bill Nighy and Chow-Yun Fat. Sadly, on top of all its problems, they still had to resolve the issues from the second one, with the whole sea monster and the giant fucking squid Davy Jones. Oh, and thanks for explaining how Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush) came back from the dead. Whatever. I’m done with this shit.
While watching this steaming pile of feces, it suddenly dawned on me that this is the longest bad movie I’ve ever seen. Though I could probably count the number of three-hour films I’ve sat through on both hands, I don’t recall any of them being this wretched. And the fact that everyone and their mothers will see this movie, and that it will make an assload of money at the box office, just enrages me even further (much like last year’s Da Vinci Code). It is also notable that there has been a developing pattern with trilogies over the years, where the first two films become enormous moneymakers, allowing the studios to give complete control of editing decisions to the director for the third installment. This happened with Peter Jackson and Lord of the Rings, the Wachowskis on The Matrix and Sam Raimi on Spider-Man. The final installments of all these trilogies sucked harder than Lindsay Lohan on her last coke binge (which was apparently last night). All of them had monumental length issues, and in the case of The Matrix and now At World’s End, the story definitely hurts when you shoot the sequels simultaneously, which isn’t really two sequels as much as it is one gigantic movie split in half.
At World’s End was so bad that after the movie, my friend and I went out to the fountain in front of our theater and proceeded to get our money back by swimming for change. We didn’t stop until we reached $18 (the price of admission for two). It was that bad. Thankfully, now I don’t have to say I wasted money on the biggest disappointment of the decade.
Grade: F

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