Pirates of the Caribbean strikes gold in new movie

When Americans flocked, in the tens of millions, to theatres across the country for the opening of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest this past weekend, they wanted one thing above all: exactly what they got from the first movie and much, much more of it.

In the first installment of this soon-to-be trilogy, The Curse of the Black Pearl, audiences were treated to a blockbuster with a light-hearted and exotic twist.

Although abundant with the now-typical ingredients of Hollywood success-from a cast of swashbuckling superstars to women with weapons as well as looks-that movie had something enchanting, something captivating about it, which made it far from common fare.

For this was not simply a movie about pirates, treasure, women and empire, but-perhaps most of all-about a certain pirate's comically exaggerated swagger.

Unique, unexpected, downright hilarious, and yet not quite ridiculous, Johnny Depp's alter-ego Captain Jack Sparrow was the enduring image of that movie, the reason-along with Keira Knightly's angelic figure-that this sequel was so eagerly anticipated.

Though certainly the novelty is gone this time around, Dead Man's Chest manages to exaggerate already exaggerated features without distorting the qualities that we all expected and seemed to like so much.

Nominally, the plot of Dead Man's Chest revolves around Jack's quest to find the treasure of maritime demon Davy Jones. But in all honesty, the plot is secondary to the film's personalities.

It is both more exotic and far less plausible as a movie without seeming to ridicule itself or the spirit of the original. Where the first movie was endearing for its careful artistry of excess, blending action, humor, romance and fantasy into a plausible whole, the second responds with sheer, impressive scale and yet still succeeds, if a little less artfully, in putting the pieces together.

Dead Man's Chest does seem to get carried away at times, as in one of the action sequences involving a giant wheel where it becomes hard to keep track of, well, anything. But it comes across as a subtle artistic decision, designed to be funny-in the spirit of old-time physical comedy like Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, or Abbott and Costello-rather than the bloated byproduct of artistic hubris.

This good-humoured, tasteful sense of excess so characteristic of the original (i.e. the sense of taking itself just seriously enough) pervades all aspects of the movie, resulting in a thoroughly enjoyable experience for the audience. It might even be better than the original. For it to be better than the original, however, one has to have seen the original, as the plot picks up right where it left off and without explaining much of anything.

In fact, without having seen the original, the significance of many of the references and characters' actions will be lost on all but the telepathic viewer. Usually this would not hinder the enjoyment of this kind of movie, which tends to emphasize easily accessible, cheap thrills.

The Matrix: Reloaded, for example, required little in the way of context at all. But, once again, Dead Man's Chest is not your average blockbuster sequel, and the first movie is almost essential to appreciate the second properly.

While The Matrix: Reloaded too often traded the original's provocative spirit for the bells and whistles with which it had become associated in pop culture, Dead Man's Chest preserves the spirit of the original, thereby magnifying its strengths and appeal. The great success of this approach will be evident to any fan of the first movie. He will get exactly what he wants from Dead Man's Chest and a whole boatload more. If you liked the first movie, you cannot reasonably ask for more.