Film Review

At left Johnny Depp and right Orlando Bloom in "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End." Photo courtesy of and copyright Disney.

“Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End” (2007)
Rating: (2.5 out of 5)
Director: Gore Verbinski
Starring: Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Geoffrey Rush

“Ocean’s Thirteen” (2007)
Rating: (2.5 out of 5)
Director: Steven Soderbergh
Starring: George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Don Cheadle, Bernie Mac, Casey Affleck, Elliott Andy Garcia, Al Pacino, Ellen Barkin

It seemed fitting to review these third installments together, as the verdict is essentially the same. Yes, a terrible wrong needs undoing, so both gangs are together again, and everyone is still terribly good-looking. But the shtick is beginning to get old.

In “World’s End,” Will (Bloom), Elizabeth (Knightley), and Capt. Barbossa (Rush) embark on a voyage to save Capt. Jack from a loopy demise. The East India Trading Company controls Davy Jones and his crew of crustacean monsters, conveniently providing a bad guy.

Unlike the first two movies, the plot is contrived and predictable, if not boring. The writing has lost much of its earlier charm. The art direction and cinematography remains breathtakingly beautiful, but not quite as wittily delightful as, for example, the scene of a dueling trio on a rolling wheel in “Dead Man’s Chest.”

Johnny Depp continues to do all the heavy lifting. Capably supported by Geoffrey Rush and less-known members of the cast, Depp’s continued hilarity is sharply contrasted with the unfortunate ineptitude of both Bloom and Knightley. Bloom’s character has been relegated to teenage brooding and titilating over-forty women with glimpses of his buff young flesh. In contrast, Knightley’s Elizabeth has somehow risen to a much more important character than one would have expected.

The usually charming Knightley is painfully set up to play a role only the likes of Sigourney Weaver and Geena Davis can get away with: Super-women who appear believable when kicking ass. Think “Alien” or the closer-themed “Cutthroat Island.” In “World’s End,” Knightley’s diminutive height and weight, high-pitch voice and the ridiculously fashionable, Orient-inspired wardrobe make her look idiotic wielding a sword or giving motivational talks to a ragtag group of seafaring criminals.

On the whole, “Ocean’s Thirteen” is a better film, if a more pretentious one at that. It has a decent plot premise, a believable set of characters, and dialogue vaguely reminiscent of its two predecessors. It is also infinitely better for not featuring the female afterthoughts of the first and second films.

Danny Ocean (Clooney) and his all-star gang want payback after casino magnate Willy Bank (Pacino) cheats Everybody Loves Reuben (Gould) into a hospital bed. The plan is, of course, to ruin Bank financially, and to add insult to injury by depriving his new hotel of a coveted award.

Matt Damon, George Clooney, and Brad Pitt in "Ocean's Thirteen." Photo courtesy of and copyright Warner Bros.

While we don’t exactly expect realism, we want to see a bunch of cool guys pull off a great heist in the style of old Vegas. Alas, the cool guys are sporting salon tans and overstyled clothes, the heist ranges from boring to ridiculous, and the Vegas illusion is shattered by repetitive footage of the Bellagio’s fountains.

“Thirteen” also fails the CSI test—or rather, the same test that CSI fails every week—by appealing to the lowest common denominator. Just like you can’t “enhance” video footage by blowing it up some 2,000 percent, you cannot “hack” into and “FBI upload” on someone’s computer and “redraw” a dozen mugshots in a couple of minutes. Not even if you had Photoshop. Not even a little.

Somewhere between the first and third “Ocean’s,” caricatures crept into the script. Pitt is still semi-cool and Damon’s existential crisis amuses, but Clooney hasn’t shaken the cloud of smug since South Park pointed it out. Particularly caricaturesque are the film’s villains: The superbly clad, unnaturally thin ice dame Ellen Barkin, who is implausibly sharp and stupid at the same time, and her boss the hotel mogul, played by Al Pacino who’s reaching the Nicholson zone—you know, the place where you roll your eyes, growl a little, and everyone is supposed to be really, really scared.

Both “World’s End” and “Thirteen” bank on your being so in love with their characters that you overlook the obvious conceptual and execution flaws of each production. Unfortunately, there is only one lovable character left in the bunch. See you later, Capt. Jack.