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My Long-Winded Review of Dead Man's Chest by Ray Printer Friendly

Iím still wicked sick, just going to prove how evil kid germs are. That didnít stop me from going to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Manís Chest, though.

Iíve been waiting for months to see this movie, and apparently so had most of Austin. We had planned on going to an early morning showing, but the earliest one was 11:30. Since that isnít really early enough to avoid the rush, and since I was still feeling pretty much like shit, we decided to go to a later showing.

We arrived ten minutes early for the time we wanted, and it was already sold out. We bought tickets to the next showing, which was about thirty-five minutes later. Upon entering the auditorium, we found that it was almost full. We ended up finding seats about five rows back, not quite middle enough to be centered, but in the middle enough so that we had to make our way past about ten peopleómost of whom didnít even try to move their legs. One little teenage chick turned to her friend and said, ďI hate when people do that.Ē

I was already kinda pissed because I got cut off at the concession stand by a fat chick, so when this little snotnose made her remark, it took pretty much what was left of my self-control not to piss in her popcorn. You know what? Letís back up.

Letís back up to the lobby, which was visibly smoky because someone had burned a batch of popcorn. If youíve ever smelled a batch of burned popcorn, you know what itís like. If you havenít, consider yourself lucky, because although itís not quite as bad as catching a barrel of monkey shit on fire or lighting up a pile of kitten fur, itís still pretty rank.

I was feeling pretty badóthe dizziness caused by the super-germ/cold medicine combo was making me pretty sick to my stomachóand walking into a smoke-filled lobby did nothing to help. Also, my head was beginning to get all stopped up again, so the sounds of all the dipshits waiting in line for food and drink was amplified by something like a thousand.

We got into line, and waited while the slowest concession worker this side of the old folks home screwed around with the computer for something like five minutes. He finally got one customer finished, while the lines to either side of us shrank and then grew again as more people came.

ďIím switching lines,Ē I finally said. I think it could probably go without saying that changing lines is usually a pretty bad ideaóas soon as you hop from one line, it dissolves and the one youíve changed to stops moving.

I started to take a step, and this fat chick materializes out of nowhere. Just BANG! Fat girl! Very unpleasant stuff, especially as how her shirt was rising in the back, revealing what I can only assume was something for a plumberís crack to mate with. It wasnít just butt-crackóit was butt-crack with some weird sort of arch on top, like her butt formed its crack and then just kept going out the top of her pants, causing multiple butt-cracks above her pants and sort of on her sides. Very disturbing stuff.

Never race a fat girl to popcorn, I thought to myself, but I didnít say anything, because my princess doesnít like when I say the rude things Iím thinking. I was being good.

I stepped back in my line, ignoring the goofy bastard that had shown up wearing a pirate hat. Iím as pro-pirate as the next guy, donít get me wrong. But thereís a time and place, you know? Youíre going grocery shopping? Great, man, wear your pirate gear. School? Sure. In the bedroom? Hell yeahóeveryone knows that pirate-wear is a much-needed spice in the sex stew. But not to a movie theater, not when youíre there to watch a pirate movie.

Thatís just silly. And his hat was ugly, to boot. Heís lucky I didnít bring my pirate sword and run his ass through.

So I wait in line, and this time my princess goes to the next lineóweíre doing that split up and see which line goes fastest thingóand thereís suddenly another fat girl in front of me. I donít know where she came from.

The idea of stealthy, super-quick fat girl ninjas is too much for me to accept, so I assume I just hadnít been paying attention before. She starts talking to the other fat girl, theyíre both yelling and laughing, standing about five feet away from each other because theyíre ordering their food, and their voices are echoing all through my head.

And then the guy in front of me starts pacing. Just back and forth real fast, like heís about to snap. I understand his pain, of courseóthe fat chicks are really annoyingóbut his pacing around in front of me is actually just adding to my irritation, so itís taking all I have not to stomp on his sandaled feet.

We finally get up to the counter (in the new lineóthe original line that I was in, the guy is still trying to figure out how to add another large soda onto the order), we get our stuff, and we head out.

Thereís a line to get our tickets pulled, and guess whoís in front of us?

If you guessed the fat girls, youíre wrongóthey were long gone with their fat-girl-ninja speed. Itís the loser in the pirate hat. And guess what? He has put his ticket away in his wallet!

So while everyone is waiting in line behind him, heís putting down his popcorn and his soda, and heís digging around all through his wallet, trying to find his ticket.

When I do idiotic stuff in public, I get completely mortified, so I almost felt bad for the guy. I mean, if it was me holding up this line, having to put down all my stuff and dig through my wallet, I would be totally embarrassed. But then I realized something: that wouldnít be me.

Because who the hell puts their movie ticket into their wallet? Iíll tell ya whoóthe same kind of dipshit that wears a pirate hat to Pirates of the Caribbean. Obviously it was this guyís favorite pastime to run around looking like a dope, because nobodyís that bad at social interaction on accident. Trust me, manóIím pretty much as bad at it as you can get without actually trying.

Thankfully, my princess walked by him, handed the girl our tickets, and we went into the auditorium. The packed auditorium.

And the smart-mouthed little chick that narrowly avoided a dick-slap to the face.

I managed to keep my balance as we walked, but it was a close thingóback to that whole dizzy-head Ďcause of sickness and cold medicine thing. I barely made it to my chair, and the last guy I had to walk byóthe guy I ended up sitting besideódidnít even attempt to move his feet that were perched against the chair in front of him.

Iím not sure how to be racially sensitive about this, so Iím not even gonna try: thereís this smell, and itís terrible, and the only time Iíve ever smelled it is when itís coming out of the mouth of an Asian male. Not all Asian guys, not at all. But the only time I have ever smelled it, itís been coming from an Asian man.

I donít know if itís a dental hygiene thing, or something they eat or what. Alls I know is, it smells like dead something, and if itís coming from you, I will generally tell you to chew some fuckiní gum. I donít care who you areóif this smell is coming out of your head, you need to do something about it.

The thing is, I canít make you chew gum. And the last thing I wanted to do was piss this guy off and then having him blow his skank-breath on me all through the movie. So I didnít say anything to him. I just leaned closer to my princess. The thing is, Iím all sick, and since I didnít want to get her sick, too, I couldnít lean all that close. In the end, I decided to breathe in from her side and then expel all my sick-germs his way.

The movie finally starts, and Iím super-pumped, even though I have to stare almost straight up to see it, since Iím so close to the front. The previews come on, and Iím home. No matter about the closeness of the screen, no matter about fat-girl-ninjas, no matter about the poop-breath guy next to me.

I was raised in a theateróliterallyóand Iím a firm believer in movie magic. Iím not a very good film critic because Iím all about the suspension of disbelief. Tell me a story, Iíll believe it. Sure, there might be a voice of logic muttering in the back of my mind, and sometimes Iíll lose my concentration and start noticing the shortcomings (Ben Affleckís head in Armageddon, for example). But for the most part, Iím willingly led.

I would say that spoilers follow, except that since the bastards completely leave you hanging, it isnít like I could tell you what happens. Thereís going to be another sequel, and they knew it, so they didnít bother finishing this one.

Throughout the entire movie, the good guys try to get the Dead Manís Chest and the key to open it. Why? Because they want the still-beating heart thatís inside it. They donít ever get it. The movie ends.

Maybe itís because I was sick, but it just seemed like a complete gyp. I went to see a story, they gave me half of one. Thatís bullshit, is what it is. I donít mind sequels. But itís your job to tell me a story that leads into another storyónot just tell me part of a story and expect me to come back for the rest later.

My princess (who was almost as excited as I was to see this movie) didnít like it, either. Too gory. The special effects are pretty slick, but you can only watch so many barnacles growing out of a guyís face before it gets a little gross. And thereís more violence than there was in the first one.

I think she put it best when she said, ďItís like they didnít realize what made the first one so good, and took all the bad parts.Ē Because they do have snippets of good dialogue, and they do have a few funny moments. But most of the camera work is shaky and fast-moving, and thereís just too much gross stuff going on. Thereís a lot of action, but I didnít find it to be cool action, you know? I mean, in the first one, you had these awesome sword fights and all kinds of stunts.

In this one, you have special effects, and like one sword fight that doesnít even look that cool because the camera cuts away every second and a half.

All in all, I thought it sucked. It could be because I was sick, it could be because of the smelly guy beside me, or it could be because I was sitting too close. It could be because I had built it up so much in my mind, I donít know. Maybe Iíll watch it when it comes out on DVD and Iíll think, Hey, that wasnít nearly as bad as I remembered. Maybe.

But when I walked out of the theater after watching the first Pirates, I was eager to talk about it, ready for it to come out on DVD so I could watch it again, and glad that I had spent the dough to see it in a theater.

Walking out today, I was just pissed off.


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