by Erik Henriksen
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Who is this movie for? It is not for innocent children. They do not know who this skull-faced, mascara-slathered man is, prancing and mugging on a boat. It is not for adults, who, in our Age of Netflix, have better ways to distract themselves from their decaying bodies and looming deaths. Is it for the type of simpleton who says “carpe diem” and believes “time is precious”? This movie will annihilate their simpering ideology; it is over two hours long but feels like 40. It bends space-time.
Is it for Orlando Bloom lovers? Nay, for sweet Lando barely appears, and, cursed by the fetid sea, has an itchy case of Barnacle Face. Is it for people interested in hearing Javier Bardem invent weird ways to say “Jack Sparrow”?