Cineplexus

No matter what else, Avatar is a game changer.

Avatar ★★★★½

Full disclosure: one of my favorite people on Earth worked on Avatar for months. 80-hour work-weeks. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner on set. I really, really wanted this to be a decent movie. Still, I had my doubts. Big blue aliens? CGI? 3D for Christ's sake? It seemed unlikely that this one would pass muster. So, when I read Roger Ebert's review I was ecstatic. 4 of 4 stars! He compared it to seeing Star Wars for the first time. I send out elated texts to several other hopeful friends.

Then the haters started in. The movie was cheesy. It was overly didactic. It gave me a headache. And okay, no, those aren't complaints I actually read in negative reviews; they are my own impressions of the film's possible weak points. Therein lies the Avatar debate, one that will likely continue for decades. Do this movie's groundbreaking strides in the very fabric of the medium outweigh any foibles in its basic storyline and dialogue?

I have a feeling the decades will err on the side of Avatar's greatness. Take Star Wars as a forerunning example: its hero is whiny, its villain utterly uncomplex (we're talking JUST THE FIRST FILM here, people). But who cares? The movie remains one of the most widely celebrated ever, as much by the general public as by film geeks like me. Or take Jaws, which (film school taught me) was the first true summer blockbuster. It's about a freaking shark! A killer shark! But do we watch it and think, "What's up with that weird grizzled guy?" No. We think "Wow, this is an astonishingly created film. And to think it was made in 1975!" 

Right? Isn't that what you think? Or is that just me?

The fact of the matter is that Avatar has people thinking about entertainment in a whole new way. The story, classically, has clear cut good guys and textbook baddies. It is pretty fantastical, and one must suspend disbelief for nearly three hours to believe that these tribes of giants and their magic tree can fend off the firepower of huge military manned battledroids. There is way too much voiceover, including a few passages so redundant that even the blind could do without their narrative aid. But it takes a lot of energy to even notice these tiny blips on the astonishing and astonishingly real world that unfolds again and again before your bespectacled eyes. The 3D is immersive, not invasive, so each of us in the audience is having our own experience on Pandora. It's a feat that Star Wars Episodes IV-VI can't even boast. Hell, no movie can.

That's why we call it "groundbreaking." No one's built there before.

Cinemaphile 101: Planet of the Apes (1968)

What do you get when you combine all acts of 2001: A Space Odyssey with Inherit the Wind and some over-the top Halloween costumes? A laughably bad movie.  When I reflect on my recent viewing of Planet of the Apes, I am struck with a shocking thought: why did anyone think it would be a good idea to remake this movie? Sequels (this film had 4, plus several TV specials) I can understand - any moneymaker can get multiple sequels.

To put it another way: I thought about making this entry similar in spirit to my post "What's wrong with Revenge of the Nerds? A pointless list." For example, in 2000 years, why is the Grand Canyon on the East Coast? What kind of throat injury leaves you mute until it's totally healed? Why don't the apes' mouths moves? But then I realized there just aren't enough hours in a day. 

 The movie's main flaw may be how seriously it takes itself. This is particularly evident in its more didactic moments. Much effort is spent building an ironic case for evolution, as the ape society Charlton Heston's character, Taylor, discovers is so devoted to its religious teachings that it ignores evidence that the Apes had Human ancestry. Powerful leaders like Dr. Zaius (why are all the elder apes blonde in this movie? Just a thought.) go as far as to try the archeologists that have discovered ancient remains for heresey. In the end, however, the film totally changes gears when it suggests that discovering our true nature is the path to Armageddon. That's what leads to the (admittedly awesome) iconic shot of the top of the Statue of Liberty laying in ruins on the beach. Taylor discovers what spoilers have long since taught us about The Planet of the Apes: it was earth all along.

I lived in a small town from the age of 8 until 18, and my friends and I often visited the local "Antique Mall," which sold a lot of odd pop culture collectibles. As a gorilla enthusiast and a movie lover, I once purchased trading cards featuring the faces and stats (?) of this film's characters (or those of the TV show spinoff, like Urko, Gorilla General).  But the real movie's bitter, inflexible Dr. Zaius is nothing like the hilarious, cute Dr. Zaius I imagined when I gazed at his likeness on my Planet of the Apes trading card! Yet another way this film has disappointed me. 

Maybe the problem isn't with the film at all. Maybe the problem is me. Why ya always gotta be insisting that a movie's philosophical message is inherently consistent, Marissa?! Geez. I guess it's my own damn, dirty human nature rearing its ugly head.

2 Movies About…Making Bank: The "Summer's" First 2 Blockbusters

X-Men Origins: Wolverine ★★½

Star Trek ★★★★½

In the movie industry, as in so much of retail-based society, seasons start a little early. Christmas season starts at Halloween, Oscar season starts in the Fall, and Summer, the season of the Blockbuster, starts in early May. Summer season 2009 is off to a rollicking start with two hugely anticipated films, each with a very long franchise history to back it up and bring it fans. Wolverine and Star Trek are both examples of mega-budget, sci-fi epics that movie fans love, even those who don't care much about the source material, and they both have already made major bank, thanks in large part to months and months of hype. The films have this in common, and little else. 

Actually, for me, there were some other similarities. I saw both films on the day they opened, at the same theater, where in both cases I had to show the ticket I just paid $10.50 for to a diffident but unyielding usher before entering the theater itself, despite the fact that tickets were already torn on an entirely different floor. Oh, summer blockbusters. We get so excited for you, only to be put through hell for the opportunity to be disappointed by you. At least, this was the case with Wolverine. 

The X-Men franchise has been quite successful at the box office over the years, but scripts and plot development have seen their ups and downs. Wolverine has all the flash and careful art design of previous films, but in terms of editing and storyline, we can mark it in the "downs" column. Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in the history of Cineplexus, I'd like to issue a SPOILER ALERT.

Now, perhaps you already know that Wolverine (Hugh Jackman, of course) and his ilk (i.e., mutants) are practically immortal. This is made crystal clear to us in an opening montage that finds James Logan (Wolverine-to-be) and his half-brother (the future Sabertooth, played by Liev Schreiber) fight in pretty much every American War ever (nevermind that they're Canadian). But after some funny business in Vietnam, some fun with other mutants (a hit-or-miss bunch that includes some characters that will be familiar to comic book fans, but not to anyone else), and starting a new life as a lumberjack, a man named Stryker offers to make Logan "indestructible."  X2 already introduced Stryker to us as a military madman, and as Wolverine's creator. 

Indestructible. It's not an equicovating kind of word. What's more, the man who uttered it, Stryker, has devoted his life to the study of mutants (and how to take advantage of them). So why, Gavin Hood, why, David Benioff and Skip Woods, why, Nicolas DeToth and Megan Gill, is the entire second half of the movie about Stryker trying to destroy Wolverine? Moments after the newly-minted adamantium-infused Wolverine esapes from the laboratory of his creation, Stryker utters the following words to his #2 man: "Blow his brains out." You JUST coated his skull in unbreakable metal, jackass! Sure, a military higher-up points this out a bit later in the film, but it's too little, too late at that point. No matter how many cool fights, awesome mutants, or fabulous special effects can make up for such a mind-boggling backwards plot "twist." 

I'm not saying I didn't enjoy the film. I'm just saying that I spent several minutues of it yelling at the screen from the audience. Literally. No one heard me. It was loud in there. In a way, I have to thank X-Men Origins: Wolverine for giving me some perspective with which to critique the following week's big blockbuster, Star Trek.

Now, I'm no Star Trek lover; in fact, in my younger years I was one of those Star Wars nerds who's so devoted a fan that she actually stands against the very idea of Star Trek. In college, however, I became close friends with Mary, who I credit with getting me excited about things like comic books and superheroes…and with bestowing upon me a working knowledge of Star Trek: The Next Generation. That said, one hardly needs more than a tenuous grasp on 20th century pop-culture to follow along with this film. After all, it's an origins story – OMG, another similarity to Wolverine! How did I miss that one? – and we're carefully, if quickly, introduced to all the heroes from the original Star Trek throughout the film. While they aren't all fresh out of Starfleet, they are all new to the Enterprise, rocketed into key roles by happenstance and quick thinking, and there's something truly exciting about that.

Come to think of it, what's not exciting about the new Star Trek? I expected some thrilling fight scenes and fast-paced chases. I expected crazy effects and fancy explosions. Check, check, check. super-check. For many, that kind of flash will be enough to brand Star Trek a successful endeavor. But how was I to imagine, based on the fast-paced, hype-tastic trailer pumped through the Web and on to television for the past year, that this film would actually have a carefully developed, extremely complex story? The folks behind Star Trek might have devoted as much care to character development as they did to their Enterprise sets and interstellar motion graphics. Furthermore, they managed to totally rewrite the future of the Star Trek universe; one friend of mine was appalled by this fact, but only one. Personally, I think it's a move of pure brilliance, one that could help this film become a sci-fi classic. And who could forget how super-hot all the main characters are? I, for one, can't stop thinking about it.

Both films obviously spent tons of time and money on development and details, but one of them just gave up when it came time for the script and the editing.  Not so fast, Hollywood; therein lies the difference between a frustrating Pre-Summer Blockbuster and an excellent one. Giving a crap about making your movie good, instead of just about your movie making money.

Three Weeks Later…Watchmen. ★★★★.

I shouldn't be writing this. Or, to be more specific, after seeing Watchmen three weeks ago, I decided I wasn't going to write a review of the film. Having bought my ticket in a frenzy of haste and anticipation, I watched the Watchmen with my heart in my hands, nervously checking in minute-by-minute to see if the film was a complete disaster yet – not the ideal mental state for criticism. One of the perks of writing a film review blog as opposed to, say, a film review newspaper column is the freedom to censor oneself. I paid for my ticket, and I reserve the right to keep my opinions a secret.

It wasn't that I didn't like the movie. Quite the opposite, in fact; I was afraid that I liked it more that I should. If that sounds completely ridiculous – who can say how much one should like a movie? – well, point taken. I decided to scrap that theory and return to the theater, this time with full knowledge of what to expect, and the mental facility to analyze what was being presented. 

The verdict is in: Yes, Marissa. This movie is pretty friggin awesome.

Watchmen is absolutely an epic. It is complex and dark, vertiginous and long, and demands that the viewer bring some kind of interest and investment in the storyline with them to the theater. At least a passing interest in comic books, superheroes, or the Apocalypse is a pre-requisite for entrance, or should be. 

The major victory of Watchmen the Movie is its dutiful exultation of Watchmen the Book. With the regrettable exception of Adrian Veidt's thin stature and weird accent, the filmmakers have painted a live-action version of the graphic novel's famous frames up on the screen. A pivotal chapter from the book, in which major character Dr. Manhattan relives the story of his frightening transformation into demi-god, is held intact for the film, and the resulting montage may be the most riveting few minutes of cinema we've seen in years. On the flip side, some book dialogue that probably should have been cut from the script (Laurie, arriving on Mars: "Whoa. I'm on Mars.") remains, but one can't fault the overall attention to detail. Little from the primary storylines has been omitted, and the result is a fascinating homage to the classic book. 

All of this, in truth, is a mixed blessing for the viewer who has not read the book, as many of the characters and events might come off as confusing or overly grandiose. Someone arriving at the theater expecting a fun romp through the city on the wings of masked avengers might be more than disappointed. Children could be scarred for life. But that total upheaval of the superhero mythology is exactly what makes Alan Moore's novel such a revelation. While the cinephile side of me wishes the film were a bit more transparent, my love for culture and literature wins out here: I am very, very glad that this movie begs the viewer to compare it to the book. What better way to get the world to read a graphic novel from the late Seventies?

WALL•E ★★★★★

Just so we're clear: Robots are totally awesome. What other creation, or fantasy creation, can remind us simultaneously of the '50s, the '80s, and the distant future? In the past, I've been dubious of Pixar's ability to entertain me with cute-ified fishies or rats, and time and again the results have been spectacular. I went to the theater expecting a great time from WALL•E. What I got was way, way more exciting.

To a child, WALL•E is a lovable robot with in a fascinating and slightly familiar universe. But for ME to say that this is a movie about cute robots...it's like saying that Animal Farm is book about a kooky pig. There are many things that surprise and amaze in WALL•E.  The realer-than-reality animation or the emotional reactions evoked in scenes with no real dialogue are enough to make this a standout, even by Pixar's high standards.  But what most  sets this film apart, not just as a cartoon, but as modern cinema, is it's eerie and frighteningly believable vision of the future.

You'll have to see the film to truly understand what I mean. If you've already seen it, and you didn't catch the jaw-dropping cities of garbage or the all-too-familiar society of information-obsessed lazy fatties, maybe you should check again. Truly, this is a work of genius.

Some thoughts on Indiana Jones 4

It's 2:47am on May 22, 2008, and nearly all of Chicago's freaks and geeks have spent the past 2-3 hours at the AMC River East, where Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull just screened in theaters 4, 9, 10, and 11. During the film, there were cheers of joy and laughter; afterwards, I definitely saw some tears of disappointment in the crowd. It's what was to be expected. After all, this film has been a very, very long time coming.

 I was never an Indiana Jones super-fan, though I've always found the films pretty cool. Though I understood and enjoyed the film's many references and call-backs to its prequels, what I enjoyed most about Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was all the cool doors Indy got to open. I secretly love to test doorknobs to see if they'll turn, and this is essentially what Indy and his companion (Mutt, played by Shia LaBoeuf) do for a good chunk of the movie. I found myself nervous and excited at the thought of what might be behind every dark, cobwebbed corner. This aspect of the film was exciting, even when the items discovered weren't. I was reminded of a sweet Nickelodeon game show, Legends of the Hidden Temple, when contestants every week wove through a maze of trap doors and trick handles. No one ever made it to the finish, but it was exciting every time.

 The Last Crusade was released in 1989, and not much has changed for Indy in twenty years. It is not my intention, however,  to discuss plot points or character arcs. Fact is, a lot has changed in the world and at the movies in the past two decades. Digital effects and animation make nearly anything possible, a fact that audiences are getting more and more used to despite its frequent abuse. Every movie seems to have impossible stunts – especially big blockbusters – and thanks to the Internet, buzz around a movie can build and spread in an instant. All of these modern situations affect Kingdom of the Crystal Skull directly, but picking up an aging franchise in the modern cinematic marketplace is no easy feat. The film often uses digital effects to its advantage (an atomic test bomb early in the film creates what might be the coolest explosion I've ever seen) and it sometimes stumbles with them, as in a handful of unrealistic touches during over-zealous car-chase-fight scenes. That said, I think one of the primary hurdles time has created for Indy is the change that's occurred in many of its young fans over the years.

If you're between 25 and 35 today, you might well have grown up obsessed, or at least enamored, with a wry and quick-witted fighting archaeologist that ran away with the box office. I ask you, fanboys: In the harsh light of adulthood, can any sequel really live up to the nostalgic glory with which you've imbued those early films? Kingdom of the Crystal Skull,  with its flashy effects and cool secrets, has a goofiness that might strike you as a little off-putting or disingenuous. Allow me, as an outside observer, to ask a simple question, though it may sting a bit: How much seriousness or realism can you expect from a franchise that claims "melting Nazi face" as one of its most memorable moments?

If this commentary seems inconclusive, it is. I'm not sure how to judge this film, and it's precisely because of this connundrum of time and expectations. Do I give it 3 stars (so-so) because of the flying saucer and the lame attempt to keep outer-space out of the storyline? Do I give it 4.5 for all those sweet Indiana Jones surprise punches? I've pretty much decided on 3.5, but I'm still not sure if I'm judging the film itself or its ability to live up to my expectations.

I'll leave the super-fans to duke this one out. That should only take another 20 years or so.

The Chronicles of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe ★★★★ Prince Caspian ★★★½

In what could only be called an act of madness, I decided this Sunday that I would spend the hours after work watching, for the first time, 2005's The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, to be followed immediately (it was about 30 minutes later) by its sequel, Prince Caspian, now in theaters. While such an exercise can hardly be recommended to the faint-of-heart, it certainly awarded me with a clear lens through which to compare the films.

I initally avoided The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, dubious of a CGI-tastic brutalization of one of the world's greatest children's novels. While the drawn-out introduction left me frustrated (as in "please, for God's sake, take me to Narnia already!), once the wardrobe doors were flung open, the film delivered a mix of fantasy, horror, violence, and yes, even some Christian symbolism, that was frankly rather breathtaking. I was pleased and, frankly, surprised by how satisfying it all proved to be.

Now, I have an inborn aversion to realistically-animated talking animals. Please do not show me a winking tabby cat or a commercial starring a chrous of singing, dancing puppies (I'm talking to you, Frontline!) But I must say, even this element of the Wardrobe was executed with a precision that kept it from grating too much. With few exceptions, digital effects were focused on the many dangerous or powerful subjects the film tackles, rather than working to evoke a sugar-coated dimension of dewy-eyed rodents.

Which brings us to my trip to the theater.

Far from drawing out our quest to re-enter Narnia, Prince Caspian launches us straight into an unfamiliar, human-filled Narnia that left the people behind me wondering if they were in the right theater. They were. It's 1300 years later, and Narnia has been taken over by a group of apparently Spanish humans called Telmarines. Their prince, Caspian X, must flee his kingdom before he's killed by a power-hungry uncle. Of course, he flees right into the forests of Narnia, where he meets a cool badger, some super-sweet dwarves, and, much to my chagrin, this freaking mouse that think's he's soooo hilarious. Even the voice of Eddie Izzard, whom I dearly love, cannot save this character, whose strange behavior and incongruous animation put him up there with Jar-Jar Binks on the list of CGI annoyances.

When this mouse, whose name is apparently Reepicheep, leaves the screen, the movie progresses admirably, with Caspian unknowingly summoning the ancient kings and queens of Narnia – our stars, Lucy, Edmond, Susan, and Peter. (Incidentally, the magic of Narnia seems to have transformed Peter into a super-hunk . Chill out – it's okay for me to say that, because the actor who plays him is 21. Seriously, though, it was distracting. Sweet Jesus.) The remaining mystical inhabitants of Narnia, led by these five nobles, must fight the Telmarines for their freedom. There are good-and-evil struggles reminiscent of the dark side, and clever, violent battle scenes that make you wonder if this is really a kids' movie. And then, in comes Reepicheep and his ilk, completely undermining all the coolness the film has amassed. What we're left with is two movies: the mature, exciting movie that shows through in the majority of scenes, and the goofy, pandering kiddie flick that should have been left on the cutting room floor.

The verdict? Both films are interesting and packed with moments their cast and crew can be very proud of. Neither film is perfect, but I would like to officially put to rest all of this "better than the original" talk that's surrounding Prince Caspian. At best, the film is an exciting appendage to the first Chronicles of Narnia movie. The indulgent desire to provide a little "something for everyone" frequently derailed the story's progression and ultimately distracted from the astonishing effects and fascinating darkness that gilds many of Caspian's scenes. We'll get to return to Narnia on The Voyage of the Dawn Treader in 2010; hopefully they'll leave the goofy characters at the pier.

The Golden Compass ★★★

Allow me to introduce you to The Golden Compass, a film which straddles the fine line between ridiculous and brilliant. For me the scales were tipped decidedly toward ridiculous when the closing titles began and a slow, meandering ballad about the main character faded in: "Lyra, Lyra...her soul walks beside her, an army stands behind her...Lyra, Lyra." The song, entitled "Lyra" and sung by Kate Bush, is a well-meaning ode to the importance of the story's main character, but its bewildering execution leaves you wanting to laugh (or, in my case, actually laughing). The same could be said about the film that it follows.

The movie adaptation, particularly of a fantasy novel, is a strange beast, and I think it's fair to say that after over 100 years, Hollywood is still trying to figure out how to treat it right. Perhaps even trickier is the fantasy series (such as Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials series), in which the livelihood of future films and the potential for major box office dollars rest upon the palatability of the crucial first film. It should come as no big surprise that more popular series are among the genre's most notable successes. The ongoing Harry Potter franchise or The Lord of the Rings trilogy, for example, were able to leave fans of the original material generally excited and itching for more, and neither spent much time or energy explaining how their worlds were different from our own. The Golden Compass is the first installment of a potential His Dark Materials trilogy, and if the series is going to live through its completion, movie number one would have done well to explain a little less and show a little more.

While I haven't read The Golden Compass (or any of the His Dark Materials books) myself, the world depicted in the movie is clearly the invention of a brilliant mind. Furthermore, the actors in the film were hardly objectionable - Daniel Craig is stately, Nicole Kidman is vicious, Sam Elliot is droll, and star Dakota Blue Richards seems just the right blend of precious and precocious. The visual effects were varied and truly stunning, defining entire scenes and characters such as the terrifying "ice bears" and the "demons" that walk beside each human. Some adaptations with so much going for them are counted as gems, even if fans of the original books are disappointed by liberties taken and scenes omitted. But one needn't be a literary scholar or rabid Philip Pullman fan to be irked by the plotline of this particular novel-to-screen transition.

The world of The Golden Compass is complex, and the film takes every opportunity to remind us of it. New races of people appear around every corner, and each time we're reminded which race they belong to. Are they Gyptians? Are they Witches? Who is that guy again? Why are children's demon's different from adults' ? What's going to happen next? Issues that the books' author likely devoted chapters to get addressed via hastily inserted lines of dialogue. Like a buoy thrown in to make sure we're up to speed (rather then leave us to fend for ourselves), this hand-holding bothers me a little more each time I think about it.

Ultimately, The Golden Compass leaves one feeling exhilarated and confused, entertained and patronized. During a thrilling ice bear fight, the witty banter exchanged by the bears is eye-rollingly trite. Just as protagonist Lyra is learning to decode the secrets of the titular Golden Compass, Eva Green comes flying in on a broomstick. It's enough to make a film critic want to tear her hair out at the prospect of what could have been if only a bit more care had been taken in the cutting room and a little more trust had been granted us by the script. See the film yourself, and maybe the scales will tip differently for you. Plus, you'll get to hear that hilarious song...Lyyyyra....Lyyra...

Beowulf 3D ★★★

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End ★★1/2

(Originally reviewed May 2007)

I'm afraid the proud and noble heritage of the mighty pirate is beginning to lose it's allure.

When the first installment of what will hopefully remain a Pirates of the Carribbean trilogy was released, it was just in time to capitalize on (and reenergize) the tongue-and-cheek pop mania surrounding the pirate mystique. And it did so with a flair; The Curse of the Black Pearl proved that a movie based on a ride could be a hell of a lot more fun and exciting than the ride itself. The second installment, Dead Man's Chest, saw pirate-fever a little less pervasive, and though visually interesting, it weakly failed to revive our culture's obsession with sea-faring criminals.

And now, here we are, a year later. Pirate mania is, I'm afraid, So Over. When was the last time you longed to sail the seas? Is anybody still telling jokes with "Arrrgh" punchlines? While I know one or two fans who were holding their breaths in anticipation of At World's End, I was mostly just curious to see if it made more sense thanDead Man's Chest. The prognosis?

Negative.

That is to say, on a strictly "making sense" basis, At World's End is the least successful film of the trilogy. The story follows Jack Sparrow and the crew of the Black Pearl between dimensions, to several continents, to the edge of the world, and from one side of the war to save the art of piracy to the other. And back. And forth. And back. Etc. Let me try to lead you through the labyrinth.

The cliffhanger ending of Dead Man's Chest (or Pirates 2 in the vernacular) left our hero Jack dead and his ship's crew, at this point made up of a curious combo of friends and enemies, vowing to hunt him down in the world of the dead. This is what they set out to do for the first act of Chapter 3, and not only because they really, really, miss him. There needs to be a meeting of all the really important pirates of the world, because the government (the British Government in particular) is performing a sort of pirate genocide, and if the Pirate Race doesn't band together as an army, life as they know it will cease to exist. They will be meeting at the edge of the world to discuss the potential end of their world, which explains the film's title, in case you were wondering.

As has been a recurring theme in the trilogy, the pirates' chief problem is that they're a bunch of shady, untrustworthy, double-dealing...pirates. The British government is using this to their advantage in spades, and many a pirate is willing to help the enemy in exchange for a box of booty. Among the potential offenders are Kiera Knightley's Elizabeth, Orlando Bloom's Will Turner, Bill Nighy's super-creepy Davy Jones, new character Captain Sao Feng (Chow Yun-Fat), and good ol' Jack himself (Johnny Depp, of course), among others. No one really knows who to trust as we begin to traverse the seas in search first of the land of the dead, then Jack, then the land of the living, then the other pirate leaders, then the British Army, then Bootstrap Bill Turner, then Davy Jones' heart, then the sea goddess Calypso...I think that might be it. Along the way, these stories intersect in a haphazard kind of way that forces you to try to remember everything that happened in the first two films (something I'm sure many viewers had no trouble with) while simultaneously throwing in entirely new facets of the supernatural.

Like Dead Man's Chest, the film relies a little too heavily on dialogue and jokes that were sensational in the first film. However, it also incorporates a whole host of new elements. Some of these succeed, more or less, like the glimpse of the Chinese pirate scene and the small insights into the history of the international world of piracy (sure, it's FAKE history, but it's still kind of fun). At the top of my list of FAILED changes, though, is the complete absence of Johnny Depp from the first thirty minutes of the film. Without his raucous energy to fuel the disparate crew, the film's opening flounders. When he finally returns from the dead - you knew it was coming - he chastises the group: "Look what happens. I leave you people alone for a few seconds and everything goes to pot." These were precisely my thoughts. With Depp's return, things pick up a bit, especially on the comedy front, but it seems like even he has trouble following the film's manifold plot lines.

So are there any redeeming qualities to this third Pirates installment? Absolutely. If the storyline does some tiring somersaults, the visual gymnastics the movie performs as it goes between places and dimensions are positively invigorating. I already mentioned Chinese pirates, but I didn't bring up the rich detail used to depict their realm. The Black Pearl's trip to the underworld and back, not to mention the sort of limbo-land Jack is stuck in, are beautiful and fascinating. The mindbending (if pointless) vision of a choir of Jack Sparrows talking to each other almost makes up for Elizabeth and Will's swordfight-wedding. And if you thought the makeup on the Flying Dutchman was cool in Pirates 2, you haven't lived until you see Davy Jones temporarily change from his octopussy incarnation into his normal human self and back again in a matter of seconds. Astonishing.

Ultimately, Pirates 3 is worth seeing for its bizarre and inventive visual imagery, but you might want to come up with a game plan. Do you own ear plugs? Have you got some nice headphones for your iPod? If you can come up with a way to block out the dialogue and ignore the plot, you'll probably find the experience a lot more enjoyable. (

I'm afraid the proud and noble heritage of the mighty pirate is beginning to lose it's allure.

When the first installment of what will hopefully remain a Pirates of the Carribbean trilogy was released, it was just in time to capitalize on (and reenergize) the tongue-and-cheek pop mania surrounding the pirate mystique. And it did so with a flair; The Curse of the Black Pearl proved that a movie based on a ride could be a hell of a lot more fun and exciting than the ride itself. The second installment, Dead Man's Chest, saw pirate-fever a little less pervasive, and though visually interesting, it weakly failed to revive our culture's obsession with sea-faring criminals.

And now, here we are, a year later. Pirate mania is, I'm afraid, So Over. When was the last time you longed to sail the seas? Is anybody still telling jokes with "Arrrgh" punchlines? While I know one or two fans who were holding their breaths in anticipation of At World's End, I was mostly just curious to see if it made more sense thanDead Man's Chest. The prognosis?

Negative.

That is to say, on a strictly "making sense" basis, At World's End is the least successful film of the trilogy. The story follows Jack Sparrow and the crew of the Black Pearl between dimensions, to several continents, to the edge of the world, and from one side of the war to save the art of piracy to the other. And back. And forth. And back. Etc. Let me try to lead you through the labyrinth.

The cliffhanger ending of Dead Man's Chest (or Pirates 2 in the vernacular) left our hero Jack dead and his ship's crew, at this point made up of a curious combo of friends and enemies, vowing to hunt him down in the world of the dead. This is what they set out to do for the first act of Chapter 3, and not only because they really, really, miss him. There needs to be a meeting of all the really important pirates of the world, because the government (the British Government in particular) is performing a sort of pirate genocide, and if the Pirate Race doesn't band together as an army, life as they know it will cease to exist. They will be meeting at the edge of the world to discuss the potential end of their world, which explains the film's title, in case you were wondering.

As has been a recurring theme in the trilogy, the pirates' chief problem is that they're a bunch of shady, untrustworthy, double-dealing...pirates. The British government is using this to their advantage in spades, and many a pirate is willing to help the enemy in exchange for a box of booty. Among the potential offenders are Kiera Knightley's Elizabeth, Orlando Bloom's Will Turner, Bill Nighy's super-creepy Davy Jones, new character Captain Sao Feng (Chow Yun-Fat), and good ol' Jack himself (Johnny Depp, of course), among others. No one really knows who to trust as we begin to traverse the seas in search first of the land of the dead, then Jack, then the land of the living, then the other pirate leaders, then the British Army, then Bootstrap Bill Turner, then Davy Jones' heart, then the sea goddess Calypso...I think that might be it. Along the way, these stories intersect in a haphazard kind of way that forces you to try to remember everything that happened in the first two films (something I'm sure many viewers had no trouble with) while simultaneously throwing in entirely new facets of the supernatural.

Like Dead Man's Chest the film relies a little too heavily on dialogue and jokes that were sensational in the first film. However, it also incorporates a whole host of new elements. Some of these succeed, more or less, like the glimpse of the Chinese pirate scene and the small insights into the history of the international world of piracy (sure, it's FAKE history, but it's still kind of fun). At the top of my list of FAILED changes, though, is the complete absence of Johnny Depp from the first thirty minutes of the film. Without his raucous energy to fuel the disparate crew, the film's opening flounders. When he finally returns from the dead - you knew it was coming - he chastises the group: "Look what happens. I leave you people alone for a few seconds and everything goes to pot." These were precisely my thoughts. With Depp's return, things pick up a bit, especially on the comedy front, but it seems like even he has trouble following the film's manifold plot lines.

So are there any redeeming qualities to this third Pirates installment? Absolutely. If the storyline does some tiring somersaults, the visual gymnastics the movie performs as it goes between places and dimensions are positively invigorating. I already mentioned Chinese pirates, but I didn't bring up the rich detail used to depict their realm. The Black Pearl's trip to the underworld and back, not to mention the sort of limbo-land Jack is stuck in, are beautiful and fascinating. The mindbending (if pointless) vision of a choir of Jack Sparrows talking to each other almost makes up for Elizabeth and Will's swordfight-wedding. And if you thought the makeup on the Flying Dutchman was cool in Pirates 2, you haven't lived until you see Davy Jones temporarily change from his octopussy incarnation into his normal human self and back again in a matter of seconds. Astonishing.

Ultimately, Pirates 3 is worth seeing for its bizarre and inventive visual imagery, but you might want to come up with a game plan. Do you own ear plugs? Have you got some nice headphones for your iPod? If you can come up with a way to block out the dialogue and ignore the plot, you'll probably find the experience a lot more enjoyable.