Depp’s perfunctory gestures and flailing pratfalls befit a film that brings the series’s theme-park roots full circle.
If there’s injury done to Edgar Allan Poe’s reputation, it’s a glancing blow, quickly forgotten.
There’s nothing strange—or in any way extraordinary—about this dim-witted bore.
Incongruous vocal intonations aren’t even the most significant problem plaguing Bryan Singer’s film.
Larry King says, “Finally, a movie worth seeing over and over again.” I say, “I barely could get through it once!”
It’s tempting, one must admit, to mangle the title of Woody Allen’s latest trifle and let it stand as a review.
Even for a sequel, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest takes the practice of double-dipping to extreme depths.
Well, I guess this proves that Americans aren’t the only ones apt to characterize the French as obnoxious, power-hungry fops.