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Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest
Elizabeth Swann: 'I know there will come a moment when you will have the chance to do the right thing.' Jack Sparrow: 'I love those moments. I like to wave at them as they pass by.' I can't imagine what Tom Hollander has against Keira Knightley, but after his oozy proposal to the poor girl in Pride & Prejudice, here he is ruining her wedding to Orlando Bloom and clapping her in irons. Hollander plays an agent for the British East India company, and is much the most nefarious of the film's villains, even if octo-pussed Davy Jones and his pet monster the Kraken are reputedly more odious. The question hanging over Dead Man's Chest is how Johnny Depp's Captain Jack Sparrow fits into such infamous company. Not only did the jolly old rogue steal the first movie out from under ostensible hero Will Turner, he even contrived to make off with the moral high ground. Even so, when all is said and done he's still a pirate, surely: not just a free spirit, but a brigand, a liar and a thief? At the beginning of this sequel Sparrow's crew are a tad disenchanted - it seems they haven't engaged in much looting and pillaging since reclaiming the Black Pearl from the late, unlamented Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush). Captain Jack has lost his bearings. His compass - which usually points the way to his heart's desire - is all in a spin. Whether this is because he harbours a secret desire to go straight, as Elizabeth claims, or whether it's a not-so-secret desire for Elizabeth herself that is muddying the waters we are left to figure out for ourselves. But the movie very cleverly extends Ms Swann's romantic illusions about piracy to include Jack, setting up a tricky romantic triangle for the third (and final?) installment next year. Do we want to see her comfortably married to the dashing but dull Will or sailing off with the debauched and dissolute Jack? 
Retaining all the elements that made the first film such a hit, both in front of and behind the cameras, Dead Man's Chest is a highly professional sequel that probably deserves its record breaking box office. What it loses in novelty value it just about makes up for in some truly gob-smacking set pieces. I'm not usually much of a special effects fanatic, but Davy Jones - Bill Nighy unrecognizable behind a computer generated cephalopod face and a Scottish accent - is, well, 'lifelike' wouldn't be the right word, but brilliantly animated. It takes state of the art technology and a wicked imagination to combine for such a creature, and then an inspired showman to conceive of Davy playing an organ in the bowels of the Flying Dutchman with the tentacles that make up his 'beard'. Other highlights include a rollicking three way sword fight played out on a runaway watermill and a slapstick escape from a tribe of politically incorrect cannibals. Entertaining as it is, this breathless, over-extended sequel feels more like a theme park ride than the original, simply because the first film held to a strong narrative line and this one stitches together different threads with more energy than sense. 
Everybody is roped into a quest for the contents of Davy Jones' locker, which turns out to be his heart, but it's by no means clear what they would do with it once they had it, or why Davy keeps it there in the first place. You get the feeling they're making this up as they go along. Not that that's a bad thing, necessarily: Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin and Jackie Chan have all operated in the same way with considerable success. Let's just hope they can come up with an ending. Tom Charity
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