YAAAARRRRGGGHHH

Right, the long-trailed explanation of why Pirates of The Caribean: At The World's End is the most radical film of the decade:

The first two instalments of the filmilisation of the rollercoaster were great fun - basically resting their appeal on the fairly solid ground that i) pirates are cool, ii) Johnny Depp/Keira Knightley (delete as applicable) is hot and immensely talented/hot (delete as applicable). Depp's Captain Jack Sparrow, a loveably insane rogue, was one of the finest, funniest filmic creations we'd seen for quite some time and if the Oscars rewarded talent and not po-faced sentimentality, he'd have one Oscar more.

As family film entertainment goes, the films were top draw - witty, fantastical, swashbuckly, without schmaltzy sentimentality, and with more than a hint of self-knowing and self-deprecating irony. Although the second half of the second film was a bit unsatisfyingly flabbily plotted, and didn't so much end as do a to be continued thing which is mildly irritating when you have to wait a week for the next doctor who, but it infuriating when you have to wait a year for the next film.

So, when you're making the third bit, presuming you neither i) an idiot, nor ii) a Machieavellian evil genius intent on destroying Hollywood and the minds of children, you give us more of the same. More big monsters, more big swordfighty stuff, more good(ish) vs evil conflicty heroismy shit, more wide open blue seas.

Now, because I'm a generous man with a weakness for evil genii, I'm going to presume that the makers of At The World's End are ii).

Now, so far as I'm aware, it's been a while since someone made the third part of a family film trilogy in which all of its selling points have been replaced by things much crazier.

About a quarter of the total footage might as well have been filmed by DAVID FUCKING LYNCH for all the sense it makes. Seriously, it's warped.

Everyone fell in love with depp's brilliantly deranged Cap Jack Sparrow in the first two instalments, where he was always viewed from a distance, the camera celebrating his charismatic eccentricity. Part III is shot from much closer, right inside his crazy fucked up head. The result is confusing and not a little unsettling, with multiple depps fighting over his possible futures. It's really fucked up. Really. The bit where he rams himself through with a sword over half a peanut is a pretty salty metaphor for a mind going awry in a world gone awryer.

Every single character ends up being so deceitful that it pretty rapidly becomes rather difficult to figure out what's going on. The result, not of deficiencies in storytelling, but of an ever-shifting web of self-interest, deceit, confused loyalties, barely concealed animosities, alliances of conveniences, Machiavellian posturing, and god knows what else, which eventually makes the film feel as though it's about to collpase in on itself like a Black Hole with an eye patch. In a good way.

The beautiful world of lustrous blue seas and the freedom they suggest of the first two films is supplanted a filthy night-time of raging hostile waters in which the only calm is the calm of the purposeless dead.

Oh yeah, and it starts with a kid getting hanged. a scene from which 95% of directors would doubtless pussy out, but which here is unflinchingly carried through. And people die relentlessly. all the way through. Really horrible shit happens to them.

The film's moral universe is fantastically ambiguous. Whilst it buys into the romantic dream of the pirate as a free-living, free-thinking, lovable rascals, it's notable that none of the actual pirates do any actual pirating, being far too concerned with various romantic quests. On more than one occaision in the trilogy the crews confront a captain for his failure to, y'know, attack ships and steal shit. The one consistent baddie is the rapaciously capitalist and imperialist East India Company, whose influence easily dwarfs that of the state as it fights for commercial and maritime hegemony. Even there, old-fashioned ideals of fair-play, romantic love and self-sacrifice can trump the prevailing ill wind.

All of this falls to pieces if you stick around after the credits and watch the, frankly awful epilogue. So I suggest you don't.

Meanwhile, in the world of film of a less piratical nature, I am one of the, what? actors? models? bodies? in Vita Hewison's beautiful, inventive and mesmerising animation Fold which can be seen here.