CHICAGO -- Went to the downtown AMC today to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End with the brothers, and who should be coming down the escalator as we go up? Barack Obama. In a White Sox cap. Without entourage or fanfare and without being noticed. He seemed to be with two guys, who kinda looked like security men in plainclothes. Was Barack moviegoing solo? Wonder what he saw. Didn't think to ask. Maybe Pirates.
Which was great, by the way. Close to perfect. A return to the grandness of the first one, even though I was never sure what was going on. But the Bloom-Knightley romance is resolved brilliantly and Geoffrey Rush is a treasure. What I have appreciated most about this trilogy is its celebration of language. Writers Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio have a field day with the florid discourse of piracy, spinning screenplays that are at once showy and elegant -- a tapestry of delicious verbiage. This is how blockbusters should be: sensational both in production and in writing. Here's a sample of words, phrases and sentences that I was compelled to scribble down during At World's End:
"Feculent maggots." "Divulgatory." "If I may lend a machete to your intellectual thicket..." "Our destinies have been entwined but never joined." "Utterly deceptive twaddlestick." And there's so much more. Maybe Barack should hire Elliott and Rossio as speechwriters. He'd be guaranteed the nomination if he referred to an opponent as a "treacherous ... yeasty ... codpiece."
Susan Hayward in "I'll Cry Tomorrow"
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