Well, I finally got to see the last Pirates of the Caribbean film, and honestly, I did not have high hopes. Nearly everybody I talked to was disappointed with the movie, and I heard some valid critiques. However, after seeing the movie for myself, I was actually pretty impressed. It was much better, in my opinion, than I had heard from people. In fact, I thought more than either of the other two, it was the most epic in its mythic dimension, and offered the most fully-textured story.
Now, I think I understand why several didn’t like it. It was long. It was confusing (I couldn’t figure what sides there even were at times, much less who was on which one). It was perhaps too much story to pack into the last installment (but that’s usually the case – writers are not always good at quick, simple wrap-ups). It was certainly very strange at certain points. The ending is hardly happy. And perhaps most importantly, it was the last in a trilogy that began with “The Curse of the Black Pearl,” which was so incredibly good, I can’t believe the filmmakers had the audacity to try to follow it up.
However, I would like to offer a brief, humble defense of the movie, because I think the makers were reaching for something quite lofty, and in some ways I believe they succeeded, and that it made for a fantastic (keyword) story of mythic proportions. That is, I think that “At World’s End” is pure fantasy, and that when looked through this lens, yields some good thematic qualities that should at least earn the movie a bit more respect.
First off, and most simply, it has common elements of fantasy, most of which have carried over from the first two. We have monsters, abominable and terrible creatures, and mythic “beasties.” There is magic, and although its rules are not necessarily defined, it is certainly there. There is Calypso, who is certainly able to perform magic. We have a broken but certainly magical compass. And we have curses, rituals, and other supernatural, efficacious rites.
Secondly, like any good fantasy, it attains (though a bit late) a mythology. We have a “goddess,” who was bound in human form by a special council in some near-distant past. We have the singing of a most sacred song/lyric which awakens and draws this council (a lyric with the telling last line, “Ne’er shall we die…”). The council members themselves are bound by sacred oath and this oath is signified by relics of a sort (although it was a cute twist when it became “whatever happens to be in our pockets”). But moreover, we have speculation about the question of death, a mythology which gives a tentative, nebulous answer (but an answer, nonetheless), and it appears in the form of a “soul ferry.” The characters even travel into the realm of the dead.
Thirdly, there comes to us a bit of philosophy and even (a weak) moral vision (again, a bit late). Barbossa remarks to Sparrow that the world has gotten smaller. Sparrow responds, “The world has gotten smaller; there’s just less in it.” Now we have not time nor inclination to examine this as a philosophical statement here, but it at least is an attempt at one. And (following in the vain of the former statement) our link to the modern world, Lord Beckett, who surely embodies in some way the ever-progressing, always-shrinking, increasingly-faithless (I’m using the term faith rather generically here) world we are and are becoming, dies in the face of the powers of the mythic world (from the ancient past) with only the telling statement “It’s not personal, it’s just good business” on his lips. And at the climax of the story, we have a speech about choosing the hard way. Not running, but giving fight, taken a stand against evil, not going quietly into the night. “Dying is the only day worth living for,” one of our heroes quips, and fantasy is one of the great realms where we are truly inclined to believe this could be true.
We have a Happy Ending, one of Tolkien’s four requirements (see “On Fairy Stories”), but it is bittersweet, no doubt. And this, I would add, is another key element of fantasy. The Happy Ending is always bittersweet, because while all has been set to rights, it always comes at a great cost, and sorrow thus remains. As brave Will Turner – who throughout the three installments remains our moral compass, always doing what is good, brave, and right (or at least, trying to) – leaves Elizabeth to take his 10 year tour, I could not help but feel the same gnawing, aching sorrow akin to that which I felt when Frodo sails to Aman, leaving Sam behind, or when Amberle fulfills her destiny, leaving a broken Will Ohmsford behind.
Now, I think I understand why several didn’t like it. It was long. It was confusing (I couldn’t figure what sides there even were at times, much less who was on which one). It was perhaps too much story to pack into the last installment (but that’s usually the case – writers are not always good at quick, simple wrap-ups). It was certainly very strange at certain points. The ending is hardly happy. And perhaps most importantly, it was the last in a trilogy that began with “The Curse of the Black Pearl,” which was so incredibly good, I can’t believe the filmmakers had the audacity to try to follow it up.
However, I would like to offer a brief, humble defense of the movie, because I think the makers were reaching for something quite lofty, and in some ways I believe they succeeded, and that it made for a fantastic (keyword) story of mythic proportions. That is, I think that “At World’s End” is pure fantasy, and that when looked through this lens, yields some good thematic qualities that should at least earn the movie a bit more respect.
First off, and most simply, it has common elements of fantasy, most of which have carried over from the first two. We have monsters, abominable and terrible creatures, and mythic “beasties.” There is magic, and although its rules are not necessarily defined, it is certainly there. There is Calypso, who is certainly able to perform magic. We have a broken but certainly magical compass. And we have curses, rituals, and other supernatural, efficacious rites.
Secondly, like any good fantasy, it attains (though a bit late) a mythology. We have a “goddess,” who was bound in human form by a special council in some near-distant past. We have the singing of a most sacred song/lyric which awakens and draws this council (a lyric with the telling last line, “Ne’er shall we die…”). The council members themselves are bound by sacred oath and this oath is signified by relics of a sort (although it was a cute twist when it became “whatever happens to be in our pockets”). But moreover, we have speculation about the question of death, a mythology which gives a tentative, nebulous answer (but an answer, nonetheless), and it appears in the form of a “soul ferry.” The characters even travel into the realm of the dead.
Thirdly, there comes to us a bit of philosophy and even (a weak) moral vision (again, a bit late). Barbossa remarks to Sparrow that the world has gotten smaller. Sparrow responds, “The world has gotten smaller; there’s just less in it.” Now we have not time nor inclination to examine this as a philosophical statement here, but it at least is an attempt at one. And (following in the vain of the former statement) our link to the modern world, Lord Beckett, who surely embodies in some way the ever-progressing, always-shrinking, increasingly-faithless (I’m using the term faith rather generically here) world we are and are becoming, dies in the face of the powers of the mythic world (from the ancient past) with only the telling statement “It’s not personal, it’s just good business” on his lips. And at the climax of the story, we have a speech about choosing the hard way. Not running, but giving fight, taken a stand against evil, not going quietly into the night. “Dying is the only day worth living for,” one of our heroes quips, and fantasy is one of the great realms where we are truly inclined to believe this could be true.
We have a Happy Ending, one of Tolkien’s four requirements (see “On Fairy Stories”), but it is bittersweet, no doubt. And this, I would add, is another key element of fantasy. The Happy Ending is always bittersweet, because while all has been set to rights, it always comes at a great cost, and sorrow thus remains. As brave Will Turner – who throughout the three installments remains our moral compass, always doing what is good, brave, and right (or at least, trying to) – leaves Elizabeth to take his 10 year tour, I could not help but feel the same gnawing, aching sorrow akin to that which I felt when Frodo sails to Aman, leaving Sam behind, or when Amberle fulfills her destiny, leaving a broken Will Ohmsford behind.
And we have a “wardrobe” (something I intend to postulate in later posts), a link into the stories that we can identify with and thus experience the story through them. Tolkien had his Hobbits (19th century, Victorian Englishmen), Lewis his magical wardrobe, transporting children from our world to Narnia, or even the simply farmboy not having yet experienced the wide world, such as Jordan (among others) uses. Will and Elizabeth are our links, our heroes who face the wide world as wide-eyed as us, and yet triumph. It is through them that we live the story; they are our link into the wide world, the world that we can only dream of. Normal people, like us, able to brave the world unknown, giving us hope that we could (and might) too.
I can’t and won’t say that Pirates III is great fantasy, nor that its message is always worthy (one of the last lines is the atrocious pirate axiom “Take what you can, give nothing back”). However, I do think that it attempts something epic, something mythic, and largely succeeds, and therefore can and should bear the mantle of Fantasy. And when judged within that realm (and not simply the realm of action-adventure comedy with a twist), it does yield some perhaps wonderful qualities.
Oh yes, I almost forgot. Perhaps most telling of all that Pirates is Fantasy is the most important aspect of the whole story. They travel to World’s End, and somehow leave the realm of the living. They find a path to the worlds beyond our own. In short, they find one of the Lost Straight Roads. And is that not the quest of Fantasy? Is that not all of our quests?
4 comments:
And it might be added, concerning the question of death and moral vision, that Sparrow, who fears death and seeks to captain the Flying Dutchman, gives up his chance at a sure eternity (escaping judgment?) for Will, who shows time and again his spurn for death (i.e. fearlessness) and thus makes a worthy captain to the Dutchmen.
I read somewhere that, according to the mythos of the Flying Dutchman, when Will comes back after the 10 years (I assume you kept watching after the credits), and finds his love waiting for him, the spell is broken and he may remain with her in the land of the living.
You have an interesting point about the path to the end of the world as a "lost straight road", but should we compare the Black Pearl's voyage with the Wardrobe, or even Harry's entrance into the wizard world through Diagon Alley and Platform 9 3/4? It seems to me that their journey (and especially the road back), was more in line with the Pirate axiom "take what you can" rather than the "holy other" journey to the Undying Lands. By that, I mean that it more about manipulation of the "rules" (whatever rules were consistent in this universe -- one of my main complaints of this last episode) than a journey guided by those who were never part of this world to begin with (e.g. Gandalf, Hagrid, Caspian's horn, et al).
I bow in deference to your expertise in this genre -- but I would like to know your thoughts here on the necessity of the other-worldly guide on the "straight road."
Good thoughts. First let me clear up something, then I will answer your question.
With the reference to the Wardrobe, I use that image to describe a device in the story which allows us to experience the story through another character who is "like us" in some respect. So, the wardrobe allows us to be in wonder of the magical world we are being transported to because we are in wonder with one of the characters. What I mean is, since we are not of Narnia, we would be a little "behind" or "disconnected" if the story just took place there. However, by having a Wardrobe that can transport us, and not just us, but characters like us who are just as unfamiliar with the world as we are. So just for clarity (and you may already realize this, I couldn't tell by your post), the Wardrobe reference was to a story device; your connection of it to a "lost straight road" is warranted, but seperate from my reference.
That being said, I do not think that Pirates is necessarily good fantasy. I just wanted to argue that it probably should be judged as fantasy, and therefore would yield a better review. Of course, they do manipulate the rules to find their straight road. And while there is an attempt at a moral vision, it is a questionable one at that.
However, it must be said that these are not disqualifiers from Fantasy/Mythology, even good Fantasy/Mythology. Tolkien's story of Beren and Luthien is one of breaking the rules of death. And we have Orpheus rescuing his wife from Hades.
And one could argue that they actually did have an "other worldly guide" with them. The map exists for one thing. But also, Calypso, as a goddess (or whatever), has the power to appoint a captain to the "soul ferry" dutchman, and is able to bring back Barbossa from the dead. So she may qualify. However, I don't think the writers had this in their mind all that lucidly; judging by the movie, I'm not going to give them the benefit of the doubt.
But to the question of a "other-wordly guide" as a necessity, I think that it is barely doable without one. We need the Guide for so many things. As a literary device, to provide us with the information so we can even understand the story. As a mentor and guide to the characters themselves. As a real-life link to the other world we are seeking. And we need someone who understands what is at stake, someone who remembers another time and place before the threat, and one who can move the story forward with their informed wisdom.
You could argue that Pirates has these, but only weakly. I think the movie was, ultimately, not well-thought out.
I would also add that while the 'straight road' of Pirates does not ultimately deliver, it is at least "Fantastical" in the respect that it says one exists. Fantasy is, at least in some regard, a quest for the existence of such a road (or, perhaps, the attempt to debunk as such, although I think this is a failing of Fantasy that is not attested by history - so Pullman or Paolini). In this regard, the "straight road" of Pirates serves its purpose, especially in light of the character developments in my first comment.
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