2007-05-28 6:21 p.m.
At World's End
That being said, yes, there will be spoilers. Read at your own risk.
...
The Pirates series has been a fundamental part of the best experiences of my life. It's what my best friends and I bonded over. Reciting lines from the films and theorizing about what was next to come...not to mention a fair bit of lusting over Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom...has united us together in a way that I don't think anything else ever could have.
We've watched it before every beach trip, and recited the lines. When boredom would strike, we'd put the movies on, and snarf junk food. All of us know the entire Pirate song, and we all have the soundtracks to the movies.
I just feel like a major part of my teen years has been ended. Destroyed even. Not to mention my childhood.
See, you grow up expecting every Disney movie to have a happy ending, to "reassure" you that magic is possible and able to create happy endings for all. They've bastardized major fairy tales from all the corners of the earth to make them more "child-friendly", removing even the barest hints of things that society might find too violent or too whatever for children's consumption.
And then along came Pirates. Disney's first EVER PG-13 movie. In it, we killed people gratuitously, made sex jokes, turned people into skeletons, and set up a love triangle (gasp!). But eventually we resolved it: the good pirate went free, and the people who helped him fell in love and everyone went home happy, and for once didn't have to make appointments with their psychological dentists due to the amazing lack of cinematic saccharine present in the film. All of us thought that was the end, until rumors began to circulate - rumors that the principals had been contracted for not one, not two, but three films.
And then came the Dead Man's Chest. We ruined a wedding, had crows peck out people's eyeballs, shot a crow, and that was just the first ten minutes. From there, we proceeded to show the dark side of ambition, make more sex and alcohol jokes, whipped a man, narrowly escaped a somewhat racist depiction of cannibals, expanded the love shape from a triangle to a square (sorta), and deviously plotted (and succeeded) at killing one man and breaking another two's hearts. But it was okay - the end held out the promise that we'd get back the dead man, and eventually make our way back to one of Disney's infamously happy endings.
And then, this summer, things went wrong. First the movie came out at completely the wrong time. This should have been a July release again. I should have seen it with the friends with whom I have revelled in my inner pirate nature, the friends with whom pirates is the end-all bonding experience. But no. It came out with all of us hundreds of miles apart thanks to university and a lack of release from school. We should have seen the midnight showing together, dressed in the most kick-ass pirate costumes LA has ever seen. But no, I'm in Santa Cruz, and my best friends are scattered in San Diego, Santa Barbara, and Los Angeles.
I had to go see the movie alone on Friday morning, because nobody who I would have wanted to see it with could make it. And when a friend of mine came over that evening after I'd gotten back, asking if I wanted to see it with her, and I agreed - it was like seeing it by myself again because she and her boyfriend were so wrapped up in each other. I was merely their guide as to when a good bathroom break might present itself.
I've never felt so lonely in my life. But at least I had a saccharine-sweet ending to look forward to, or so I thought. But no, At World's End, we hang a large group of people en masse - including a child. We then kill off large numbers of people in Singapore, damn near get our favorite characters killed, watch Captain Jack go crazy, realize that Governor Swann has died at the same time Elizabeth realizes it, escape from the world of the dead narrowly, find out that Tia Dalma is actually a sea goddess with a vendetta against the pirate lords, nearly get Elizabeth raped before getting her crowned first captain of a ship and then King of the pirates' council, break Will's heart yet again. kill Norrington after he chooses to be helpful, realize that you can't kill Davey Jones without taking his place, engage in a huge sea battle amidst a maelstrom, kill Will, kill Davey Jones (by way of Will Turner), narrowly escape with our lives, and then realize that Will is stuck onboard the Dutchman for ten years at a time, before he can come back to land for one day to see Elizabeth. Oh, and Jack goes off to find the fountain of youth. And the scene after the credits isn't nearly a happy ending either - it shows that Elizabeth has been waiting for Will for ten years, with his kid, William the 3rd.
I feel like they crushed my childhood by not having a happy ending, and they crushed my teenhood by ending pirates period.
But mostly this throws all sorts of things into sharp relief. I miss my friends more than I've allowed myself to feel for a long time. I'm growing up faster than I've ever thought possible, and along with that come decisions I've never wanted to have to make. I'm going to be a junior in college in the fall by credits, and only barely starting my second year by everything else.
I don't even have a major yet. I don't know what I want to do with my life. And I'm scared shitless that I'll end up in a job that I don't love, that I wish I could leave but can't because there's no way I could find a job that I could support myself on that I don't hate.
My dream? My dream was always to become an actress - even before I fell in lust with Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom. Even before Pirates came out. But I've made all the sensible decisions: I've gone to a major university, I've made good grades and not spent too much time dreaming, I've sold my soul to the academic life and straight-laced boredom post-university. But inside my head and inside my heart, I'm screaming and crying and rattling the bars on the cage that I'm building for myself because, in my desires to be safe and give myself the kind of life I could never have as a child - one that's stable and happy and full of laughter and love and good friends - in mu desire for all that, I've been cutting myself off from the things that give me the most enjoyment out of life.
Singing. Dancing. Playing tag at midnight or in the church basement at any time with my best friends. Dressing up in silly costumes for no good reason. Staunchly refusing to grow up.
But honestly, how long can I keep being crazy and childish? I'm turning 19 in July. My teen years are ending, the same summer the films that so affected my teen years are ending. As it is I get weird looks from people and snide remarks too. And while friendship is great, I'm a raging heterosexual, and am currently suffering from Frustrated Singles' Syndrome. It would be really nice to have a boyfriend who cared about me, but the way I am now: straight-edge, prude, crazy kid, I don't know of any guys who would possibly want me. Not that I would ever change myself for someone, but at the same time...
I don't know.
It just seems like I'm headed nowhere fast for all the "promise" I supposedly show.
I feel like I'm going to have a nervous breakdown really soon. I don't think I can handle losing my childhood, but it's slipping away from me anyway.
