Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
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Plot
Blacksmith Will Turner teams up with eccentric pirate "Captain" Jack Sparrow to save his love, the governor's daughter, from Jack's former pirate allies, who are now undead.
Release Year: 2003
Rating: 8.0/10 (344,119 voted)
Critic's Score: 63/100
Director:
Gore Verbinski
Stars: Johnny Depp, Geoffrey Rush, Orlando Bloom
Storyline This swash-buckling tale follows the quest of Captain Jack Sparrow, a savvy pirate, and Will Turner, a resourceful blacksmith, as they search for Elizabeth Swann. Elizabeth, the daughter of the governor and the love of Will's life, has been kidnapped by the feared Captain Barbossa. Little do they know, but the fierce and clever Barbossa has been cursed. He, along with his large crew, are under an ancient curse, doomed for eternity to neither live, nor die. That is, unless a blood sacrifice is made.
Writers: Ted Elliott, Terry Rossio
Cast: Johnny Depp
-
Jack Sparrow
Geoffrey Rush
-
Barbossa
Orlando Bloom
-
Will Turner
Keira Knightley
-
Elizabeth Swann
Jack Davenport
-
Norrington
Jonathan Pryce
-
Governor Weatherby Swann
Lee Arenberg
-
Pintel
Mackenzie Crook
-
Ragetti
Damian O'Hare
-
Lt. Gillette
Giles New
-
Murtogg
Angus Barnett
-
Mullroy
David Bailie
-
Cotton
Michael Berry Jr.
-
Twigg
Isaac C. Singleton Jr.
-
Bo'sun
Kevin McNally
-
Joshamee Gibbs
(as Kevin R. McNally)
Filming Locations: Bequia, St Vincent and the Grenadines
Box Office Details
Budget: $140,000,000
(estimated)
Opening Weekend: $46,630,690
(USA)
(13 July 2003)
(3269 Screens)
Gross: $654,264,015
(Worldwide)
(11 January 2012)
Technical Specs
Runtime:
Did You Know?
Trivia:
The various "eunuch" lines were improvisations by Johnny Depp.
Goofs:
Continuity:
When Elizabeth is trying to save Captain Jack Sparrow just before he puts the chain of the handcuffs around her neck, the medallion is alternately in/out of her dress between shots.
Quotes:
[first lines]
Young Elizabeth:
[singing]
Yo, ho, yo, ho/ a pirate's life for me/ Yo, ho, yo, ho/ it's a pirate's life for me/drink up me hearties, yo, ho... Mr. Gibbs:
[surprises her by coming up from behind her]
Quiet, missy! Cursed pirates sail these waters. You want to call them down on us? Norrington:
[sharply]
Mr. Gibbs, that will do! Mr. Gibbs:
She was singing about pirates. Bad luck to sing about pirates, with us mired in this unnatural fog... mark my words! Norrington:
Consider them marked. Mr. Gibbs:
'Aye, Lieutenant.
[as he moves off]
Mr. Gibbs:
Bad luck to have a woman on board, too. Even a miniature one.
User Review
Depp for Emperor?
Rating: 10/10
I am nearly fifty years old. A sober grown man. With children. Children
with whom I have now sat through hundreds of movies. Many of which I
have enjoyed. And I am not completely hardened in my sophistication.
The opening music to The Lion King brought tears to my eyes when my
little ones were but wee tots. But still, these are after all just
children's movies. In another life, I would never have seen them. And,
really, one can't take such movies too seriously, can one?
And so, this summer, after the ritual badgering, I dutifully trudged
into yet another Disney "adventure" movie. Named after that tired old
ride in Anaheim I first went on in 1965. I mean really, how much can
you expect?
And then, it happened. The swirling intoxication. The stunned feeling.
What? Who? How? Was this a movie? Or a religious experience? Perhaps
more like an addictive experience...
I cannot remember ever willingly paying to see any movie not starring a
relative of mine more than twice, and I can count those movies on one
hand. I have now seen "Pirates" four times. The only thing keeping me
from seeing it again is the sense that this whole thing is just getting
out of hand. I cannot get enough of it. It's like walking into a
painting that you never want to come back out of. My children ask, with
a note of concern in their voices, "Dad, you really like Pirates of the
Caribbean a lot, don't you?"
And that Depp fellow. My God. I never had any idea who he was, but his
name sounded like something created for a pubescent cover-boy for
magazines published to hook thirteen year-old girls on make-up and bad
music. Wasn't Depp the name of some hair-goo product back in the 60s?
I am a straight male. I have several good friends who are gay, but have
never fantasized about any gender but the female. But now I understand
how women can experience swooning crushes on male film stars. He is
simply extraordinary. So sly, so seductive, so canny! I read an
interview in which Depp said he went through a slight depression when
he had to stop playing Captain Jack Sparrow. I can see why. His
inventiveness and sheer pleasure in inhabiting the character come
through in every frame. How can I admit to my children that I now troll
through fan websites about a former teen heart-throb?
I often don't even watch the Academy Awards, and I certainly never have
any emotional investment in who wins.
Except for this year.
Go Jack.
And, in a time when many big-budget movies are little more than a
hodge-podge of loosely- connected "money shots" this movie puts all the
pieces together, with a sense of fun and light-heartedness in special
effects that are simply dazzling. I find myself laughing with dizzy
appreciation when Barbossa barks out, "You'd best be believing in ghost
stories, Miss Turner, you're in one!" and the grinning skeletons come
into view, with Badelt's pounding score keeping time to the beat of
their maniacal deck-swabbing. And then there's the scene of the
pirate-ghouls slithering up from the darkened sea on the mooring cables
of the Dauntless, like infernal cats stalking their prey.
And now to the music. I can just hear the effete aesthetes dismissing
this score, as Mr. Zimmerman anticipates with his winking "overproduced
by" credit on the cover-liner. "Bombastic." "Overdone." "Absurdly
Stupendous."
Well, perhaps it is, for those who spend their lives evaluating such
things. To me, it is absolutely transporting. I first listened to it
while doing a work-out on a rowing machine and found that I tripled my
usual distance. It was like mainlining some hazardous tachycardic
amphetamine.
Once again, the children were wondering, "What's up with Daddy? Is he
OK?"
Perhaps I am just losing my grip, having an adolescent movie get to me
this way. But when those final credits roll, and Captain Jack narrows
his eyes and says, "Now, bring me that horizon. Drink up me hearties,
yo ho" and the music swells ... it is difficult to put into words the
effect it has.
At this point my children have to yank me forcibly from the theater,
lest I persist in watching the credits to the bitter end, and bid
good-bye to the little monkey once more, wiping tears of exultation
from my eyes.
This is not just another "entry" in the summer blockbust sweepstakes.
It is an exquisite work of fantasy and inventiveness, a true classic,
on the order of "The Wizard of Oz." I do hope Depp's performance
garners not just awards, but a place in the pantheon, something we old
fogies -- and our gently fogeying children decades hence -- will show
to our children and grandchildren like a revealed treasure. I cannot
recall any movie having such an effect on me.
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