June 28th, 2003
verbinski effortlessly weaves together all the disparate creative threads of populist studio filmmaking into a larger-than-life swashbuckling pulp epic that gleefully rides the line btwn lowbrow and mythological. chasing after each of his influences with a kind of passion and feverish intensity akin to other studio auteurs like the wachowskis/george lucas, imbuing the film with an infectious energy that seeps into every level of its production and inevitably draws you into its rhythms, even despite its overall emotional simplicity. there rly is smth for everyone here, from the keatonesque physical comedy/stuntwork to the decrepit gothic fantasy vibes of the black pearl to the swordplay choreography with grungy harryhausen-ass CG skeletons to generally just the unabashed romanticism of a life cast off from every moral hierarchy and lived in relentless pursuit of all the untold horrors and treasures of the unknown. maybe the closest we'll ever get to an american wuxia???