Stranger tides? Nay – still waters.

Rating: 5/10 (25 May 2011)

There is a beautiful irony in the newest installment in Disney's ongoing plundering of the seas of box offices worldwide being titled On Stranger Tides, as there is virtually nothing in any way strange about it. Indeed, it is worth noting that the working title was Pirates of the Caribbean: The Fountain of Youth, as the entire film carries such a sense of borderline- irritating straightforwardness and linearity. Hawked as an antidote to the labyrinthine narratives of the second and third installments by providing a stripped down narrative with more focus on story and characters, the only promise that On Stranger Tides makes good on is that of being stripped down. Despite having jettisoned many of the franchise's ever growing cast of familiar faces and subplots and clearing room to start anew, the latest Pirates escapade unfortunately comes across as lukewarm and benignly pleasant rather than any sort of infectiously fun adventure on the high seas like its predecessors.
As if mortified at the prospect of confusing audiences once again, the film proves frustratingly content to play it safe throughout. There are certainly no 'rocks into crabs afterlife hallucination' sequences to be found here, but nor is there a surplus of jaw-dropping set pieces or scenes of visual majesty designed to deliver the sort of escapist spectacle the genre was designed for, lending credence to the purported budgetary restraints. In fact, only a chillingly tense mermaid attack midway through the film stands out amidst a slew of half- baked chases, brief swordfights and other such near successes (the living ship rigging of Blackbeard's vessel, while a decently interesting conceit, still pales in comparison with the sight of Bill Nighy's face covered in wriggling, independently moving tentacles as Davy Jones), all coupled with the spirited droning of what is surely Hans Zimmer's most uninspired musical score to date.
New director Rob Marshall, more renowned for overseeing musical dance numbers than swashbuckling, continually scrabbles for predecessor Gore Verbinski's joyful fusion of dark- tinged but overall lighthearted adventure, yet his film feels perpetually neutered. There is a continuous sense of the plot being driven by familiar tropes (double-cross leads to skirmish leads to witty banter leads to Sparrow buffoonery and repeat) more than any overriding notions of character or narrative development, while the film functions to namecheck an appropriate medley of iconic components without doing any of them justice (it is hard to imagine a more boring take on the high concept of zombie pirates). One could speculate that loosely adapting the story from Tim Powers' fantasy novel proved a hindrance to innovative plotting in the film, yet the sense remains that the film would have felt equally stilted and forced no matter what central story.
That said, there are dashes of amusement to be found even for more skeptical viewers. The film's daringly cartoonish portrayal of the sparring political powers of the time (both Richard Griffith's nearly drooling, uncomfortably scene-chomping English King George and the comically robotic Spanish) can't help but suggest some sort of ambiguous contemporary political satire of childishly warring over desirable goods. Nonetheless, any such hinted subversion is easily overridden by the mawkishness of a forced missionary/mermaid romantic subplot that comes across as nauseatingly traditionalist and a final act riddled with unrealistic character motivations and actions. It's enough that by the climax, rather than pining for a plot that made sense, the viewer is left pining for a plot with any spark of enthusiasm or intrigue intact.
It feels almost redundant to say that Johnny Depp's Captain Jack Sparrow saves the day, but there is no question that his eccentric yet uncanny blundering remains simply a joy to watch, even if the woeful writing leaves his character awkwardly poised between driving the plot along with unconventional lucidity and haphazardly tossing off one-liners more often than not. Fellow franchise veteran Geoffrey Rush equally struggles against the script but manages to infuse Captain Barbossa with his standard roguish twinkle, extracting welcome comedic mileage out of a recently acquired peg leg. Penélope Cruz is less fortunate in attempting to combat the shoddy writing of her femme fatale character (even her murky past with Sparrow feels irritatingly inconsistent), and Cruz is given little more to do than sulk, rather than offer her characteristic sultry charisma. Similarly, Ian McShane's take on legendary pirate Blackbeard feels entirely mishandled, consistently contradicting the character's peerlessly evil reputation by coming across as oddly vulnerable, sympathetic or simply bland, with McShane given no chance to let loose any trademark snarls or villainous scene-chewing whatsoever. In the same vein, Keith Richards' reprised cameo, apart from one priceless wisecrack ("Does this face look like it's been to the fountain of youth?"), feels particularly pointless, though an unexpected Judi Dench cameo is far more fun, and definitely worth keeping eyes peeled for.
While it would be false to say there is no pleasure to be extracted from the old Pirates formula being dusted off and rehashed, but the film carries such a sense of willful mediocrity to it throughout that it is hard to ever properly buy into the fun. Indeed, On Stranger Tides does function as a pleasant enough temporary distraction, but any further longevity to the franchise would require a substantial return to the energy and inventiveness of the earlier films, and soon. Forget stripped down, this pirate ship needs fleshing out something fierce.
-5/10