Pirates

Captain Blood

Hook

Ahoy, mateys! I hope you’re not suffering too much from Summertime sadness or post-Pride malaise, though if you are, I certainly relate. This blistering heat makes everything feel slower, more challenging, like I’m walking through quicksand, and don’t even get me started on the mosquito infestation we’ve been forced to endure during this particularly rainy Summer. But of course, the best reprieve from the heat, the pests, and the ambivalence of Summer, in my opinion, is being inside your home or your local theater, watching a movie. Pride Month might’ve ended, but my proclivity for selecting queer cinema never ceases and I love to bookend June with other queer-coded subgenres. So we ended May with Batman and we begin July with pirates. I am not speaking of the more modern-day pirates in Somalia and other regions, nor am I referring to those of us who are forced to get creative and pirate movies off of the precarious ocean of the internet, but the historical and pop cultural figures known for their sea-faring, plundering, treasure-hunting, rum-drinking, peg legged, parrot and eye-patch-adorned, abject and scurvy-riddled creepiness and callousness, who sometimes say, “arrrgh.” I grew up in the pirate hey-day of the 21st century—where every Summer, it seemed, we had a new, often thrilling Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Long gone are the days of Captain Jack Sparrow’s reign—and his good looks and likability—but for quite awhile, we had pretty consistent pirate projects sailing in the culture. So many movies and TV shows and songs and books feature pirates: Treasure Island, Muppet Treasure Island, Treasure Planet, The Pirates of Penzance, Long John Silver, Blackbeard, Yellowbeard, The Princess Bride, The Goonies, Castle in the Sky, Sinbad the Sailor, Waterworld, even The Flying Dutchman from Spongebob and the pirate in Dodgeball. Whether they’re presented as good guys or bad guys or morally-grey anti heroes simply searching for booty, I tend to feel indifferent towards pirate media, because the majority of these stories feel pretty predictable and played out. My grandma’s side of the family likely has ties to the pirate Jean Lafitte, my college’s mascot was/is the pirates, I think I even dressed as a pirate for Halloween one year, and even this could not inspire much pirate picture appreciation from this scallywag of a critic. That being said, I’m still semi-fascinated by the staggering number of pirates in pop culture—some based off of real historical figures, other completely fictionalized—and how their adventurous legacies endure throughout time. Why do we know the name Blackbeard but not the name Mary Read? Captain Morgan has a whole rum brand named after him, but why do I know nothing about him? Why do we have International Talk Like a Pirate Day? Does Long John Silver’s still have locations that aren’t also attached to A&W’s? And why is Google so confused when I simply ask if Captain Nemo from Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea was a pirate? I could probably find the answers to some of these questions if I read a book, but instead I’m content watching pirate movies—even if the ones I explored this week were only alrrrrrrright to me.

I wanted to begin with a major classic that I’ve somehow never even remotely heard of, even though the title is pretty badass, this is Michael Curtis’ 1935 adaptation of Captain Blood. Like most of the pirate movies that came before and after its release, Captain Blood (which celebrates its 90th anniversary this year) is based off of a novel (by Rafael Sabatini) which was based off of true events. Captain Blood transports us to 1685 England and introduces us to a man named Dr. Peter Blood (Errol Flynn), a refined and respectable doctor who cares little about the rebellions occurring all around him and treats a wounded rebel, despite the soldier’s disloyalty to England. He was just performing his duties as a doctor, but King James II considers this act to be treason, and along with the surviving rebels of the most recent revolt, he is sent off to the West Indies to be sold into slavery. It is a treacherous, perilous journey, and yet Dr. Blood is still giving his fellow “traitors” first aid in the belly of this ship. When they arrive at Port Royal, the men must endure the dehumanizing practice of being sized up, poked, prodded, measured, and judged by their perceived strength and resilience. Dr. Blood is the most outraged and resistant of them all—immediately sparring with Colonel Bishop, who, along with Governor Steed, run the island—but Bishop’s niece, Arabella (Olivia de Havilland) is positively charmed by him and decides to purchase him for herself. (And given that Dr. Blood is the youngest and hottest of the men there, I can’t say that I blame her…) All of the slaves are forced into a life of cartoonishly-cruel tasks and responsibilities to keep the island running, but a rebellion is slowly simmering beneath the surface, with Dr. Blood as their guide. Governor Steed has become immobilized by a horrendous bout of gout, and Dr. Blood is the only doctor on the island who is able to cure him—which gives him quite a bit of leverage and relief. But Dr. Blood doesn’t keep his privilege all to himself, he continues to plot and scheme with his fellow slaves, until one night, a swarm of Spanish pirates descend upon the shore and cause a riot. This offers the perfect opportunity for Dr. Blood and his men to escape, and they do so successfully and cleverly—taking out several pirates and aiding the King’s army in the process. Colonel Bishop wants to congratulate the brave soldiers who saved the day, but is horrified to realize that it was a band of his enslaved men, who are now anchors away, off to their freedom on the wide, never-ending sea. Arabella is secretly relieved that this kind, handsome man is now safe, but her uncle Colonel Bishop vows to find Dr. Blood if it’s the last thing he does. I was hoping that Captain Blood would be a true villain origin story, where we witness this kindhearted doctor forced into a life of conquest and riches and respect earned through fear, but this wasn’t so much the case. Yes, we do see Dr. Blood become the powerful and brave leader of his ship, Captain Blood, but with a name like that, I really wanted more, idk… blood? I know I’m just a sicko who prefers horror movies and the dark parts of history, but Captain Blood was way too tame for me—especially after watching so many other old Hollywood films last month that really didn’t hold back on the indecency and chicanery. The environment on Captain Blood’s ship is highly functional and democratic, there are little to no concerns other than a few self-concerned bands of pirates, and even when they visit the pirate refuge Tortuga—a place with mythic levels of whorish history—everyone is rather mild and polite and generally un-pirate-like. And what’s even worse, is that Captain Blood and his crew have to save England’s ass again, when they cross paths with Arabella and her fruity chaperone, Lord Willoughby. I’m no pirate historian, and it’s been awhile since I identified as an anglophile, but I just didn’t buy that these scorned slaves-turned-pirates would be down for that. The most significant aspect of Captain Blood, other than it kicking off the careers of Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland, is its score, which was the first of its kind for a sound film. This film required 2,500 extras, was nominated for several Academy Awards, and Errol Flynn had malaria during the entirety of filming, which is all insane and impressive. However, while the booming orchestra and the battle sequences were technically, cinematically impressive, there was almost no story for it all to hang on to. The film was a massive hit, regardless of its flimsy story and inaccuracies, though, and it even inspired Xavier Atencio’s design of the “Pirates of the Caribbean” ride at Disneyland. Per usual, the behind the scenes stories are far more fascinating than the actual film, and I just have to note that the actor who played Colonel Bishop, Lionel Atwill, was indicted for perjury (though never convicted) by a jury investigating the 1941 proceeding of a grand jury relative to the alleged occurrence of an orgy at his Hollywood home. So there’s that.

Far less juicy but with far more memorable pirates is tonight’s next film, one that I’ve been meaning to watch for decades at this point: Steven Spielberg’s 1991 Peter Pan sequel, Hook. I’ve been needing to watch this one for awhile for many reasons. One, everyone freaking loooooves this movie, like to the point that it was their childhood favorite. Two, I played a Native American (outdated language, I know) in a middle school production of Peter Pan (and I named myself Runs-With-Scissors, because I was an edgy 13 year old.) And three, because my sister has been friends with actor Dante Basco, one of the leads of this film, for years. I even did an internship at his production company several Summers ago and edited one of his YouTube videos, and I am a big fan of this person, but I feel like I’m the last 90s kid on Earth to discover why his character and this movie is so beloved. This was a film that was in the making for quite sometime before it was actually made, as Steven Spielberg felt a deep connection to Peter Pan all his life, and felt an immense amount of pressure to do this story justice. A straight-up sequel, prequel, or retelling didn’t interest anyone, several cast members were replaced or never hired—including Michael Jackson, who was allegedly under the impression that Spielberg had promised him the role of Peter. Eventually it was decided that this story would imagine a world where Peter Pan left Neverland and came back to regular society, grew up, had kids of his own, and is now a normal, boring, imagination-less adult. Robin Williams plays Peter Banning, an uptight lawyer who is addicted to his work, so much so that he’s mostly on the phone during his daughter’s play, and completely misses his son’s baseball game the next day. The kids and his wife Moira (Caroline Goodall) are upset, but before they can acknowledge their feelings they are all on a plane to London, where Moira’s grandma (Maggie Smith) is getting a wing of a hospital dedicated to her. Her name is Wendy (*wink wink*) and she has dedicated her life to helping orphans—orphans like Peter, who she taught to read and write and introduced him to her granddaughter, Moira. Wendy is sad that Peter takes so long between visits—it’s been ten years this time—and Peter’s kids are so over his boring, non-whimsical ways. Peter yells at the kids, his wife chucks his large cell phone out into the snow, troubling hijinks ensue, and the kids are put to bed before Peter, Moira, and Wendy leave for this event. While they’re gone, though, the children are kidnapped by a creepy and familiar hook-handed man, Captain James Hook—who leaves a note requesting Peter Pan’s appearance in return for his kids. Somehow, Peter has completely forgotten who he is, and first tries to get the useless police’s help, even though Wendy tells Peter that he is the only one who can save the kids. Even when Tinker Bell (Julia Roberts) comes careening through the very window where this classic adventure first began, hoists Peter up, and flies him to Neverland, Peter is still in disbelief. They land right in the center of pirate town, where Captain Hook (Dustin Hoffman) giddily awaits his battle with his long-estranged nemesis. Peter sees his children in danger, and stupidly charges at Captain Hook, but Hook is not threatened, he, too, doesn’t believe that this is Peter Pan. Smee (Bob Hoskins) and all of the other pirates are dubious of this out of shape lawyer claiming to be Pan, but Tinker Bell assures them all that it is him, and she just needs a few days to get him back into fighting shape. Hook agrees to this, and in the meantime plans to win over Peter’s children, so they won’t even want to go home with their dad. Tink takes Peter to the Lost Boys, who are now under the leadership of the coolest, funniest, most talented skateboarder and Lost Boy there ever was—Rufio (Dante Basco)—and Peter must earn his way back into these untrusting boys’ good graces. What follows is a montage and collection of scenes where the Lost Boys essentially force Peter to play with them, thus activating his whimsy once again. Tinker Bell tells him that he just needs to think one happy thought and he’ll be able to fly, and what finally lifts his feet up off the ground is the memory of his son being born. It’s all very sweet and silly and full of love and good humor, and Peter eventually remembers exactly who he is, and is ready to take on the fearsome, loathsome Captain Hook. This production was larger, more complicated, more expensive, and more tumultuous than anticipated—particularly regarding Julia Roberts, who was going through her separation with Kiefer Sutherland at the time. Spielberg and Roberts bickered over her costuming, her lines, and her filming schedule, which mostly required her to be separate from the rest of the cast and isolated in a green screen room. Hook was also intended to be a musical, with nine songs written by John Williams, five of them performed by the likes of singers like Julie Andrews, some sequences were even filmed, and yet none of it made it into the movie. Steven Spielberg has also expressed numerous regrets with this film, claiming that he loves parts of Hook, but wound up being disappointed by most of it. Even as accomplished as he already was, Spielberg claimed, “I felt like a fish out of water making Hook... I didn't have confidence in the script. I had confidence in the first act and I had confidence in the epilogue. I didn't quite know what I was doing and I tried to paint over my insecurity with production value… the more insecure I felt about it, the bigger and more colorful the sets became.” Even still, Robin Williams was reliably lovable, Dustin Hoffman’s pirate drag and Jeremy Irons accent was superb, Bob Hoskins and Maggie Smith were excellent, and Dante was just as legendary as everyone says he is in this movie. There were also several random cameos I didn’t even clock while watching—like Phil Collins as the police inspector, Jimmy Buffett as a pirate, George Lucas and Carrie Fischer as a couple, and Glenn Close as a male pirate (okay that one I actually did clock.) Hook has mixed reviews, and still only has a 29% on Rotten Tomatoes, but it ultimately became a cult-classic with a passionate mass of fans. This is one of those movies that I definitely wish I’d watched as a child, when my own sense of whimsy and imagination was still fully intact and not almost entirely diminished by the brutality of life—but I still enjoyed it. And I certainly enjoyed it far more than Captain Blood, which might be my least favorite of the old Hollywood movies I’ve explored this Summer. The pirate’s life may not be for me, but I do thank you for humoring my expedition into the seven seas of cinematic pirates, me hearties. That’s all the swashbuckling I’ve got time for this week, my fellow bitchy buccaneers, but until next time—bangarang!