Fan fiction is an awkward literary subset written not by the original creator of a given work, but rather by fans. Nearly always disavowed by the originating artist, fan fiction is both defined by and exists outside the canon of whatever universe is being depicted, especially due to the fact that the quality of work is often hackneyed at best and, in many cases, sexually explicit at worst. As dreadful as the previous two Pirates of the Caribbean films were, the fourth installment, On Stranger Tides, feels the most like a work of fan fiction—sloppy, boring, tired and ultimately, totally irrelevant.

Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) and Elizabeth Swann (Keira Knightley) are gone, replaced by Penélope Cruz as Angelica, a ruthless but beautiful con-artist who may or may not be the daughter of the most dreaded pirate of them all, Blackbeard (Ian McShane). Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) makes an uneasy alliance with the legendary buccaneer to go in search of the fabled Fountain of Youth. Little do they know, they are not alone in their quest. Both a Spanish armada and Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush)—or at least what’s left of him—are also bearing down on the coordinates. But to get to the Fountain of Youth, they must first get past the most maniacally evil force on Earth—mermaids. Wait, mermaids?

I confess I had high hopes that Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides would be a return to form for the declining franchise. The first film was deliriously entertaining, a quintessential summer popcorn blockbuster. The two original sequels were bloated and muddled, films robbed almost entirely of their fun and replaced with incompressible plots. But I will say this for them—they looked magnificent. The set design and special effects were always top notch. On Stranger Tides decided to go in a different, more daring direction, namely the let’s-see-how-much-we-can-get-away-with-for-as-little-as-possible direction.

Frankly, I expected and wanted more theatricality. That I didn’t get it is a surprise given that Gore Verbinski, the terrific director of the first three films, was replaced here by Rob Marshall, who helmed the musical Chicago and directed Memoirs of a Geisha with all the subtly of the Las Vegas strip. But On Stranger Tides is not in the least bit colorful or inventive. It is, in fact, unremarkable in every conceivable way. More than half the film takes place at night, no doubt the result of trying to hide sub par sets among dark shadows. “We’re going to need light…a lot of light,” a character says at one point in the film. Cinematographer Dariusz Wolski must have stepped out for a coffee break during that scene.

The sloppy film, which it must be admitted boasts a couple very clever lines, is not without its charms. The mermaids are enthralling, and a bit with ships displayed in bottles is particularly beguiling. In fact, the film gets better as it goes along, even if it rips off Hamlet and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade to craft its ending. The one humanizing element of interest—a relationship between a kidnapped minister and a mermaid—is compelling but so lightly developed as to rob it of any potential power.

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides suffers from an extraordinary lack of imagination, something that cannot be said of its predecessors, convoluted and impenetrable though they may have certainly been.

© Copyright 2011 Brandon Fibbs. All rights reserved.

Directed by Rob Marshall
Starring: Johnny Depp, Penelope Cruz, Geoffrey Rush, Ian McShane, Kevin McNally, Sam Claflin, Astrid Berges-Frisbey, Gemma Ward, Richard Griffiths, Stephen Graham, Roger Allam, Keith Richards, Judi Dench
Rated PG-13 or violence, some frightening images, sensuality and innuendo.
Running Time: 128 minutes