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I saw AWE for the second time yesterday, and I realized that I couldn't very well go without doing a final J/E analysis essay! Especially since, watching it the second time, it was like one big explosion of subtext and parallels and symbols and other things that are known to have made me ramble like a crazy person in the past. ;-)
This one's far more epic than the other two. Be afraid, you guys.
Presenting . . .
Just a forewarning - the amount of rambling that goes on here could truly be qualified as, how do you say - psychotic. Yeah. My second viewing of this movie resulted in many, many thoughts. Some of which might seem sort of crazy and quite a bit of a stretch!
However, I comfort myself with this:
These are guys who intended the line "Why is the rum always gone?" not just to serve as the laugh line it could easily have been perceived as by default, but also to suggest that Jack is vexed by a lingering infatuation with Elizabeth. If it were just me analyzing that bit, I'd never have made that assumption, because it just seemed like too much of a stretch - and we got confirmation from the writers that that was their intention. So I’m going to feel free to take a lot of liberties with, oh, everything. ;-)
Buckle up, kiddos.
True True Love, Betrayal, Trust Issues, Hearts in Chests, Etc.
First and foremost, because this is the foundation for a lot of what the rest of my interpretations are based on - I think it can certainly be argued that the whole point the Davy Jones/Tia Dalma-slash-Calypso story was ever introduced to these movies, even back in Dead Man’s Chest, was in order to parallel it to Will/Elizabeth. The parallels were obviously crafted with intricacy - we even spotted them back in Dead Man’s Chest, before any of it became too overt: “a touch of destiny,” the strange chemistry between Tia and Will, and, of course, Tia’s description of a woman who fueled Davy Jones’ entire story - “a woman as changing and harsh and untamable as the sea.” Meanwhile, we watched Elizabeth make the swift transition from discontent damsel to capable pirate - it’s obvious that it’s not just Calypso we’re talking about with that line.
This does, of course, bring juxtaposition into play as well: Davy and Calypso’s love, though strong as ever even in At World’s End, is corrupted by deceit and betrayal; Will and Elizabeth’s is allegedly true, which ensures that Elizabeth won’t take to resurrecting dead pirate captains in her spare time and Will won’t grow a squid on his face. But really, we see Will and Elizabeth struggling with trust issue and deception and betrayal throughout the whole film, and, oddly enough, we haven’t seen any evidence of them being resolved when they marry at the end - only forgotten. Which begs the question, is the difference between the two pairs really so pronounced? Is Will and Elizabeth’s love as ideal as it first seems on the surface?
Words Whispered Through Prison Bars
One of the most compelling scenes in the whole film to me was Tia and Davy’s encounter while Tia is locked in the brig, and seeing the movie the second time, it became about a thousand times more fascinating when I realized that it bears certain uncanny similarities to Will and Elizabeth’s early scene in Dead Man’s Chest. We have the wild, untamable woman locked inside, and the man who loves her and leaves her there all the same.
My mind came back to this again when the last line Will utters to Elizabeth in the film is “Keep a weather eye on the horizon” - the same parting words he gave her when he left her in the cell in Port Royal in Dead Man’s Chest. The first time I saw the film, I thought this was an interesting choice, out of all the Will/Elizabeth scenes they could have called back to. The second time, when I was watching from a more analytical perspective, I found it disheartening; it seemed to be suggesting that Will was indeed leaving Elizabeth “caged” all over again, expected to wait helplessly for him until he came back for her.
Except then I remembered what happened when Will left her with this line in Dead Man’s Chest: Elizabeth found her own damn way out, used her own intelligence and skill to pursue her own solution to their predicament, and, in the process, wound up getting entangled in a flirtation with a certain pirate.
Not too shabby.
Girl Power (And Crabs, Too)
The Will/Elizabeth//Calypso/Davy comparison can be pulled apart into individual pieces to look at parallels between the specific characters as well: we see a great deal of strong comparisons drawn between Elizabeth and Calypso in At World’s End. (Don’t mind me while I resist the urge to say “a woman as changing and harsh and untamable as the sea” again. Resist, self! Resist! You guys get it by now.) We watch Elizabeth become steadily more empowered throughout the film while - a captain, then a pirate king - and at the same time, we’re finding out the repercussions that ensued when a group of men chose to bind a woman’s power. In case there’s any doubt to whether we ought to be making these comparisons, we even see Elizabeth mistakenly believed to be Calypso by Sao Feng. Pretty direct, that.
Not to mention that the moment where these two women are finally fully liberated is a shared one - as Calypso, in her rage and celebration of dearly missed freedom, creates the maelstrom, Elizabeth has fully attained her power as the pirate king, commanding a ship full of men and, incredibly, having them yield to her.
And, um, remember the part where Elizabeth and Calypso are pretty much the same, and when Calypso was finally released and returned to her full power, she exploded into a gigantic flurry of crabs? Keep that in mind, mmkay? Because oh, we are so going back there in a little bit, y’all.
Look Out, Fellas! - Elizabeth Swann’s Lips of Doom
So. Elizabeth locks lips with three men throughout At World’s End: Sao Feng, Norrington, and Will. Guess what happens, each time, only minutes after smoochies ensue? Yup, they die!
Not only do they die - they die in the exact same way. (Curious!) They’re all impaled. Their last seconds of life are spent slumped over against the side of a wall, with something - whether it be a peskily located bit of wood, a staff, or a sword - shoved clean through them. All three deaths are shot extremely similarly; after you realize it, it’s hard to deny the pattern.
And then we have the Kiss of Death pioneer - the guy who experienced it back when Sao Feng was a stranger, Norrington was scruffy and morally dubious, and Will was . . . well, okay, watching. But the point is, Jack Sparrow did it first, and even though it’s barely addressed in the film, it’s there beneath the surface. We don’t see another Jack/Elizabeth kiss in this film, but boy, do we see the first one’s aftermath.
But the thing is, Jack is proven to be the only one who can withstand her. Elizabeth kisses him, he dies, and, toward the beginning of this movie, he comes back. A little bit crazy, sure, and undeniably damaged by having done that pesky dying thing, but the guy is flesh and blood. It’s better than the rest of them get off, even her “true love” Will - Will, who isn’t gone, but isn’t alive either; Will, whose fate keeps him from Elizabeth a decade at a time.
Jack, the sole survivor, doesn’t let Elizabeth kiss him when she attempts it - and after a full three hours where kissing her has been equated with death and separation, the very pointed absence of a kiss promises the opposite: life. The future. Which is, when you think about it, pretty encouraging.
My Soul I Do Swear
The first time I saw Jack’s eternal punishment at World’s End, I could just feel, watching it, that it was packed with significance. It was too pointedly obscure to just be there for laughs, and the sort of thing that was so stylized it was bizarre that it made it into a summer Blockbuster in the first place. So watching it again, I was determined to figure out what the heck it meant.
And it actually all clicked way more quickly than I had expected it to.
This might not be correct, because I can’t find it again to double check, but I’m pretty sure I recall reading that Ted and Terry weren’t pleased when Jack’s line “My soul I do swear for a breeze, a gust, a whisper, a kiss” was changed in the film. I had that in mind watching it for the second time, and thinking of it, everything fell into place.
Firstly, let’s recall that line Jack’s father had - he declared that it wasn’t living for eternity that was important, it was living for eternity with yourself.
What we’re looking at at World’s End is Jack’s personal hell: living with himself. In the first glimpse we get of him, it seems that he’s starving - and the thing is, on a symbolic level, it probably doesn’t mean literally. Finally, he finds one lousy peanut. But before he can make some meager attempt to satisfy his hunger, he gets shot. By himself. Only it’s not just plain old Jack who shoots him: it’s Captain Jack Sparrow - the man, the myth, the pirate. I discussed the significance of clothing in my essay about Curse of the Black Pearl; in short, when Jack’s all decked out in his coat and hat, it serves as a sort of armor for him - it projects the image of the glorious, devil-may-care pirate and hides the vulnerability and humanity of the man inside. And this Jack, the Jack who just killed himself, won’t allow himself to feel the weakness of hunger, or to satisfy it.
We get this Jack - merciless, almost cruel - surrounded by a myriad of other Jacks, all of whom are in various states of undress. Some are in white shirts only (dressed just like Jack was while stranded on the island with Elizabeth in the first film); some are shirtless, bearing his scars. It’s clear that Jack is disgusted with all of them - their weakness, their inefficiency. Hello, obscurely expressed self-loathing!
Captain Jack bears down on a far weaker Jack. This Jack his utter opposite - shirtless, stumbling, timid and nearly unrecognizable. This is the part of himself that he keeps buried deep down, the one that’s vulnerable and uncertain and weak - the one that kept on being brought to the surface by Elizabeth Swann, much to his dismay. The one that, by being allowed to come out, landed him in hell in the first place.
Jack, without a trace of mercy, kills him. Impales him with a sword, to be precise. (This is the part of Jack that kissed her, that loved her; the Kiss of Doom is this part’s fault, and it’s only fitting that he fall victim to the established pattern.) Interestingly, this Jack’s fate matches Will’s.
“That’s the kind of thinking that got us here in the first place,” Captain Jack declares.
And then we’re shown that it’s all madness in his head. We see him talking to himself, and then banished from his own ship altogether. There is no wind, no chance of moving forward. His soul he does swear for a breeze, a gust, a whisper - a kiss. (Or so Ted and Terry intended.) A kiss that got him here in the first place; a kiss, and the feelings that come with it, that rests at the foundation of this entire scene.
The rocks?
Elizabeth.
Now, okay, granted, you don’t usually see rocks and immediately go, ‘Ooh, I know the answer to that one!! Elizabeth Swann!’ But bear with me here. Jack throws the rock as far as he can. Doesn’t do anything. Seconds later, it’s right there again. Here he is, trying to banish his feelings for Elizabeth once and for all, but he can’t. There’s no chance. She’s there, she’s in his heart, and she’s there to stay.
In fact, the rocks just multiply, accentuating his predicament. Mocking him.
And then - the rocks turn into . . . crabs (ding ding ding! Told ya!). The crabs all work together, and they take Jack’s ship: the ship that’s the embodiment of Jack’s freedom, his power. That ship is his escape, his ability to flee, the sentiment that he doesn’t need anything in the world except himself and the sea.
Elizabeth stripped him of his utter freedom - tied him to something, to her - when he fell in love with her.
And, sure enough, here we’ve got a (very obscure) physical representation of this sentiment, as the crabs (Elizabeth!) carry the Pearl (freedom!) away, and he’s powerless to stop it.
And then where do the crabs go?
Straight to Tia Dalma (read: Calypso, read: aforementioned hardcore Elizabeth/Calypso parallels), who welcomes them happily.
Whoo.
Not gonna delve into the part with the goat.
. . . Although, if I recall correctly, the only other goat we’ve seen in these movies is in the scene when Jack and Elizabeth reunite in Dead Man’s Chest.
But let’s not go there.
The L Word
Between Will and Elizabeth, variations of actual proclamations of love come up twice in the film. The first time is after Jack is rescued, and Elizabeth says to Will, “You thought I loved him.”
Seeing the movie the first time, I braced myself, at that moment, for the horrible but seemingly inevitable, “I only did it to save you; of course I don’t love him, I love you.”
Except then it never showed up.
The only other time that the word makes an appearance in declaration form between them is toward the end, during the marriage scene. Will tells Elizabeth that he loves her. Elizabeth stares at him. Her actions certainly suggest that she loves him - she becomes his wife, after all - but then why doesn’t she say it? It’s a very noticeable omission, and a perplexing one.
How hard would it have been, in either of these scenes, to squeeze in an “I love you” from Elizabeth? Answer: not so. In fact, if they wanted to communicate the strength of her feelings for Will, the fact that Jack ultimately meant nothing to her - well, they could have, easily - one tiny three-word line - and they didn’t.
Worth noting, I think.
Jack and Jill Will
Throughout the film, Will is torn between two things: Elizabeth, and saving his father - which inevitably requires becoming the new captain of the Flying Dutchman. Meanwhile, Jack is driven by Elizabeth’s betrayal and the renewed desire for immortality it sparked in him - he’s experienced death firsthand, courtesy of her, and it’s been enough to make him conclude that it’s something he never wants anything to do with again. We can assume, toward the beginning of the film, that Will’s heart favors Elizabeth, and Jack’s, attaining immortality through becoming the new captain of the Dutchman.
But then, gradually, we watch them switch roles. When Will creates the ‘breadcrumb trail’ of bodies, he declares that he came up with the idea by asking himself “what would Jack do?” Later, when Jack is trapped in the brig of the Dutchman, he mutters to himself over and over what Will would do in an attempt to devise an escape.
During the showdown scene between Will, Beckett, and Davy Jones versus Elizabeth, Jack, and Barbossa, we even get to see a literal switch - Jack and Will swap sides, and the moment is quite an accentuated one, too; a show is made of the way they swagger and the intensity of their stares. And whose idea was it that they switch in the first place? Elizabeth’s.
And then, when these two destinies finally unfold, both of which are desired on some level by each man, Will is the one having his heart carved out, promised immortality, while Jack? Jack has Elizabeth in his arms.
‘Til Death Do Us Part. Emphasis on the Death.
Although Will and Elizabeth technically get the ending - the closest overt thing to a happily ever after - in the film, when you think about it, it’s pretty bleak, as are all of the circumstances surrounding it.
For the majority of the movie, the two of them aren’t getting along. They’re both feeling betrayed and lied to - there’s mounting distance between them, and we don’t ever see them taking any steps closer together as the movie wears on. We don’t get to see them mend their relationship: instead, they choose to leave all their problems behind in the face of death.
When Will proposes to her, they’re both on the verge of dying, and both of them know it. This is the final push that Elizabeth needs to get her to say yes - who knows what would have happened if they hadn’t been facing potential imminent doom? Would Elizabeth have bound herself to him? Would Will have proposed in the first place? Considering what we saw from them throughout most of the movie, I’d say probably not.
They needed that atmosphere - that sense of now-or-never, the promise of an end - in order to spur them into action. When they do get married, it’s in the midst of violence and destruction and death. The blueish lighting in the scene and the torrential rain call back the opening scene in Dead Man’s Chest, where their wedding is ruined.
Their first kiss as husband and wife is prefaced by the collision of their swords; they are standing like enemies, poised to do battle, and it takes them a moment to realize that they aren’t each other’s opponents. Later, on the beach, we see their swords crossed, stabbed into the sand on the beach. Maybe it’s just supposed to express the fact that there’s cutesy pirate lovin’ going on, but I still thought that was an interesting callback to the moment before their kiss.
The thing is, Will and Elizabeth don’t get a happy ending. The apparent release from the curse after ten years of faithful waiting doesn’t make a single appearance in the film - I didn’t read any spoilers beforehand, and was completely bewildered when I came back afterwards and found out that that had originally been part of the script.
The way the movie tells it, Will gets to see her one day every ten years for the rest of her life. They’ll spend maybe five days together throughout the span of their whole marriage. It’s all made up of waiting and separation and bittersweetness - yes, it’s a testament to true love, but there’s hardly a fairytale ending in that.
And, really, there couldn’t be a more fitting resolution to Will and Elizabeth's relationship, which was never about living happily ever after as much as it was about chasing that happily ever after. What on earth would they have done when they’d actually gotten it?
And, all right, now that we’ve gotten through all of that - here we go. The actual Jack/Elizabeth interaction. Prepare yourselves.
Never Would Have Worked Out Between You, You Say?
Just like virtually every other Jack/Elizabeth shipper in the world, I felt a little cheated when I walked out of this movie the first time. Not a single scene between the two of them? After the exhilarating sexy heartbreaking J/E-tastic rollercoaster that was Dead Man’s Chest? After two films where their relationship was perhaps the most central one in the series, whether you chose to perceive it romantically or not, this just felt off, and weird, and empty. I felt like they just got abandoned because otherwise, Elizabeth winding up with Will in spite of the complex connection she has with Jack would get seriously called into question.
The second time I saw it, I was a little bit in awe of how cleverly Ted and Terry squeezed it in there.
In the subtext - the details, the things left inferred and unspoken - it’s a frickin’ J/E festival.
Hey, you remember when Jack and Elizabeth kissed at the end of Dead Man’s Chest and it was the most incredible thing on earth and “I love you”, “I know” should have felt a little bit worried because “I’m not sorry”, “Pirate” might have officially been awesomer?
Yeah.
So did Elizabeth.
When Jack said “Pirate,” she took it to heart, because when we meet her again in AWE, she isn’t the headstrong but dainty Miss Swann from the good old days of CotBP. Oh, hell no. This is one kickass pirate chick. The beginning scene in Singapore where she’s removing all of her weapons, complete with cute faces and swaggery movements, is vintage Jack. It’s practically an homage to him. Right there, we get to see the connection between them, the influence he’s had on her. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
Elizabeth and Jack have always been incredibly candid with each other - perhaps more so than any other two characters in this series. They understand each other on a fundamental level - they’re “peas in a pod,” they throw societal boundaries to the wind, and even though she’s a governor’s daughter and he’s a notorious pirate, when they’re together, they’re equals. They argue and flirt and challenge each other and see through the other’s facades, the things that they struggle to keep hidden from everyone else, the things they usually succeed in hiding. Elizabeth knows, unquestioningly, that Jack is a good man - a characteristic that’s downright embarrassing when you are essentially a professional scoundrel, not to mention the responsibility that comes along with it. Jack recognizes Elizabeth’s desperate desire for freedom - something unheard of, with women trapped in the unflinching gender role of the time period.
These two people, beyond anything else, get each other. They trust each other.
All of that kinda got shot to hell when she kissed him and left him to die.
Jack isn’t in the habit of giving his heart away to women. Kinky fun near-death sexcapades with Tia Dalma and, er, boatrides with Giselle and Scarlett, sure! Of course he’s had lovers, and might have even loved them, in his way, but not to the extent he loves Elizabeth - his feelings for her have made him relinquish some of the freedom he holds so dear, look at himself as a good man instead of a pirate and acknowledge the weakness and the sacrifice that comes along with it.
At the moment that she performed the old kiss ‘n kill, he seemed proud - almost merciful. He smiled. Called her what she secretly wanted to be. He wound up looking death in the face, meeting it heroically.
Which all seemed wonderful and noble at the time, but that was before World’s End. It’s because of her that he’s been trapped for what probably feels like forever, faced endlessly with the aftermath of what she did to him, of what she’s caused him to become.
Of course he distances himself from her when they retrieve him; of course he wants nothing to do with her. He let his guard down and let himself fall for her, and the repercussions were about as bad as could possibly be imagined. He was stripped of absolutely everything he ever valued, and really, it all went back to her.
As for Elizabeth, her feelings for Jack have jeopardized the one thing that’s remained solid for her throughout the whole trilogy - her love for Will, and Will’s devotion to her. She’s not going to want to sacrifice that.
And here enters what comes from all of that, and what defines most of their interaction in the film: hesitation.
A Little Less Hesitation, A Little More Action Please (Or . . . Not)
When they arrive at World’s End and see Jack, Elizabeth’s first instinct is to run to him - we see her make a move to, and then she realizes Will’s presence and holds herself back. That establishes quite a pattern for them throughout the rest of the film. Later, when Beckett’s fleet surrenders, a giddy Elizabeth beams over at Jack and then realizes that he isn’t looking back. As soon as her gaze falls, he looks up at her. The subtle way they dance around each other is heartbreaking, and quite the contrast to the boldness that once existed between them, but it makes sense.
Because the thing is, Will’s always going to stand between them. Jack knows that Elizabeth will always love Will; Elizabeth knows that Will will always be suspicious of the relationship she shares with Jack.
(Convenient, that the ending we’re given pulls Will out of the equation for years at a time. Intentional?)
Interestingly, the only physical contact we see between them in the whole movie is after Will’s death - the barriers are temporarily broken down; Jack holds her, and she clings to him. And then Sparrow and Swann fly away, and birds are freedom and flying is freedom and, well, that part’s pretty easy to figure out.
After Will reemerges as the Captain of the Flying Dutchman, our good friend Mr. Hesitancy makes a comeback.
In the scene where she says goodbye, Elizabeth’s eyes immediately go to Jack; we see him staring down, avoiding her. She realizes this, and only then does she say her goodbyes to everyone else along the line. When she reaches Jack, he finally looks up. When she goes to kiss him, he fends her off - which makes sense, considering the whole reason she’s leaving is to meet Will. But here, finally, they address what’s lingered, unspoken, between them throughout the whole film, and when they do part, it’s on good terms - forgiveness is finally established between them.
Peas in a Pod, Darling
Despite the tension that exists between them, the camaraderie that’s established between Jack and Elizabeth throughout the movie is definitely notable. Jack communicates his affection for her in the best way he knows how - and the only way, given the circumstances: he helps her to become a pirate. Not only that; he single-handedly makes her the pirate king - he’s letting her know, in her own way, just how much faith he has in her, and it provides her with the motivation she needs to truly become as powerful and liberated as she is by the time of the final battle. The look they share after Elizabeth declares to the pirate brethren that they’re going to fight - slight, knowing smiles - calls back to the way they used to interact, and reminds us of the wonderful partnership that still exists between them. (And, um, also, it’s just really really pretty.)
Another moment illuminating just how much Jack cares for Elizabeth is his response to Beckett’s mention of her: despite the fact that Jack has seemed to playfully deem her a murderess and makes a point of displaying to the others just how much he doesn’t care about her at all, the immediate, striking seriousness of his reply to Beckett makes it clear that he cares for her more than he lets on on the surface.
Wake Me Up Inside (And Then Cringe At My Evanescence References)
I found it interesting that, soon after they were reunited, both members of our pair helped to sort of “wake up” the other one. Jack is convinced that his rescuers are mere hallucinations until he gets to Elizabeth; she’s the only one who’s able to fully bring him back into reality. Then, a little later, he’s the one who communicates to her the sad realization of her father’s passing. They both open each other’s eyes about life and death, and I thought it created a nice, underlying instance of connection between them.
Yo Ho, Yo Ho
When the movie ends, it is with Jack decked out in his Captain Jack Sparrow gear - coat, hat, the whole nine yards - and singing A Pirate’s Life For Me.
In the scene after the credits, we see a little boy wearing a long coat (like Jack’s) and a tricorn hat (like Jack’s), singing - who’da thunk it?? - A Pirate’s Life For Me. (Like Jack.)
They could have decked the kid out in a loose white shirt and slapped a bandana on his head, and bam! Mini-Will. No questions asked. No suspicion aroused.
Instead, five minutes after we say goodbye to Jack, we get the tiny spitting image of Jack wearing exactly what Jack was wearing and singing exactly what Jack was singing. I can’t quite get myself to believe that this is a coincidence.
Now, I’m not going so far as to suggest the kid is Jack’s, but it does seem intentional to suggest that Jack’s played a pretty prominent role in this boy’s life. Which lends itself to the idea that Elizabeth and Jack have been together.
I’m pretty sure we aren’t supposed to believe that Elizabeth spent ten years on that island by herself, waiting around for Will, raising the kid, and managing in the meantime to construct some seriously impressive outfits out of grass and seaweed. Instead, it seems that she reunited with Jack somehow, and they probably had lots of piratey adventures over that decade. (Stealing the Pearl back from Barbossa! Fountain of Youth hijinks! Jack seriously freaking out as Elizabeth gives birth on his ship!) Maybe they were lovers; maybe just friends with that bittersweet flicker of something more.
In any case, I think that the ending we got was much more of an end for Elizabeth and Will than it was for Elizabeth and Jack.
I think that, given their limitations, this was really the most that T & T could give us, and I think they did a damned good job. They couldn’t very well kill Will or have him take off as the Dutchman captain and then have Elizabeth abruptly, overtly go be with Jack; it would have seemed far too whorish for Disney to abide. It was either have Will and Elizabeth live happily ever after, or what we got - which, when you consider it, really holds the underlying suggestion that things weren’t over between our ship.
Drink up, me hearties, yo ho.
:)
This one's far more epic than the other two. Be afraid, you guys.
Presenting . . .
Just a forewarning - the amount of rambling that goes on here could truly be qualified as, how do you say - psychotic. Yeah. My second viewing of this movie resulted in many, many thoughts. Some of which might seem sort of crazy and quite a bit of a stretch!
However, I comfort myself with this:
These are guys who intended the line "Why is the rum always gone?" not just to serve as the laugh line it could easily have been perceived as by default, but also to suggest that Jack is vexed by a lingering infatuation with Elizabeth. If it were just me analyzing that bit, I'd never have made that assumption, because it just seemed like too much of a stretch - and we got confirmation from the writers that that was their intention. So I’m going to feel free to take a lot of liberties with, oh, everything. ;-)
Buckle up, kiddos.
True True Love, Betrayal, Trust Issues, Hearts in Chests, Etc.
First and foremost, because this is the foundation for a lot of what the rest of my interpretations are based on - I think it can certainly be argued that the whole point the Davy Jones/Tia Dalma-slash-Calypso story was ever introduced to these movies, even back in Dead Man’s Chest, was in order to parallel it to Will/Elizabeth. The parallels were obviously crafted with intricacy - we even spotted them back in Dead Man’s Chest, before any of it became too overt: “a touch of destiny,” the strange chemistry between Tia and Will, and, of course, Tia’s description of a woman who fueled Davy Jones’ entire story - “a woman as changing and harsh and untamable as the sea.” Meanwhile, we watched Elizabeth make the swift transition from discontent damsel to capable pirate - it’s obvious that it’s not just Calypso we’re talking about with that line.
This does, of course, bring juxtaposition into play as well: Davy and Calypso’s love, though strong as ever even in At World’s End, is corrupted by deceit and betrayal; Will and Elizabeth’s is allegedly true, which ensures that Elizabeth won’t take to resurrecting dead pirate captains in her spare time and Will won’t grow a squid on his face. But really, we see Will and Elizabeth struggling with trust issue and deception and betrayal throughout the whole film, and, oddly enough, we haven’t seen any evidence of them being resolved when they marry at the end - only forgotten. Which begs the question, is the difference between the two pairs really so pronounced? Is Will and Elizabeth’s love as ideal as it first seems on the surface?
Words Whispered Through Prison Bars
One of the most compelling scenes in the whole film to me was Tia and Davy’s encounter while Tia is locked in the brig, and seeing the movie the second time, it became about a thousand times more fascinating when I realized that it bears certain uncanny similarities to Will and Elizabeth’s early scene in Dead Man’s Chest. We have the wild, untamable woman locked inside, and the man who loves her and leaves her there all the same.
My mind came back to this again when the last line Will utters to Elizabeth in the film is “Keep a weather eye on the horizon” - the same parting words he gave her when he left her in the cell in Port Royal in Dead Man’s Chest. The first time I saw the film, I thought this was an interesting choice, out of all the Will/Elizabeth scenes they could have called back to. The second time, when I was watching from a more analytical perspective, I found it disheartening; it seemed to be suggesting that Will was indeed leaving Elizabeth “caged” all over again, expected to wait helplessly for him until he came back for her.
Except then I remembered what happened when Will left her with this line in Dead Man’s Chest: Elizabeth found her own damn way out, used her own intelligence and skill to pursue her own solution to their predicament, and, in the process, wound up getting entangled in a flirtation with a certain pirate.
Not too shabby.
Girl Power (And Crabs, Too)
The Will/Elizabeth//Calypso/Davy comparison can be pulled apart into individual pieces to look at parallels between the specific characters as well: we see a great deal of strong comparisons drawn between Elizabeth and Calypso in At World’s End. (Don’t mind me while I resist the urge to say “a woman as changing and harsh and untamable as the sea” again. Resist, self! Resist! You guys get it by now.) We watch Elizabeth become steadily more empowered throughout the film while - a captain, then a pirate king - and at the same time, we’re finding out the repercussions that ensued when a group of men chose to bind a woman’s power. In case there’s any doubt to whether we ought to be making these comparisons, we even see Elizabeth mistakenly believed to be Calypso by Sao Feng. Pretty direct, that.
Not to mention that the moment where these two women are finally fully liberated is a shared one - as Calypso, in her rage and celebration of dearly missed freedom, creates the maelstrom, Elizabeth has fully attained her power as the pirate king, commanding a ship full of men and, incredibly, having them yield to her.
And, um, remember the part where Elizabeth and Calypso are pretty much the same, and when Calypso was finally released and returned to her full power, she exploded into a gigantic flurry of crabs? Keep that in mind, mmkay? Because oh, we are so going back there in a little bit, y’all.
Look Out, Fellas! - Elizabeth Swann’s Lips of Doom
So. Elizabeth locks lips with three men throughout At World’s End: Sao Feng, Norrington, and Will. Guess what happens, each time, only minutes after smoochies ensue? Yup, they die!
Not only do they die - they die in the exact same way. (Curious!) They’re all impaled. Their last seconds of life are spent slumped over against the side of a wall, with something - whether it be a peskily located bit of wood, a staff, or a sword - shoved clean through them. All three deaths are shot extremely similarly; after you realize it, it’s hard to deny the pattern.
And then we have the Kiss of Death pioneer - the guy who experienced it back when Sao Feng was a stranger, Norrington was scruffy and morally dubious, and Will was . . . well, okay, watching. But the point is, Jack Sparrow did it first, and even though it’s barely addressed in the film, it’s there beneath the surface. We don’t see another Jack/Elizabeth kiss in this film, but boy, do we see the first one’s aftermath.
But the thing is, Jack is proven to be the only one who can withstand her. Elizabeth kisses him, he dies, and, toward the beginning of this movie, he comes back. A little bit crazy, sure, and undeniably damaged by having done that pesky dying thing, but the guy is flesh and blood. It’s better than the rest of them get off, even her “true love” Will - Will, who isn’t gone, but isn’t alive either; Will, whose fate keeps him from Elizabeth a decade at a time.
Jack, the sole survivor, doesn’t let Elizabeth kiss him when she attempts it - and after a full three hours where kissing her has been equated with death and separation, the very pointed absence of a kiss promises the opposite: life. The future. Which is, when you think about it, pretty encouraging.
My Soul I Do Swear
The first time I saw Jack’s eternal punishment at World’s End, I could just feel, watching it, that it was packed with significance. It was too pointedly obscure to just be there for laughs, and the sort of thing that was so stylized it was bizarre that it made it into a summer Blockbuster in the first place. So watching it again, I was determined to figure out what the heck it meant.
And it actually all clicked way more quickly than I had expected it to.
This might not be correct, because I can’t find it again to double check, but I’m pretty sure I recall reading that Ted and Terry weren’t pleased when Jack’s line “My soul I do swear for a breeze, a gust, a whisper, a kiss” was changed in the film. I had that in mind watching it for the second time, and thinking of it, everything fell into place.
Firstly, let’s recall that line Jack’s father had - he declared that it wasn’t living for eternity that was important, it was living for eternity with yourself.
What we’re looking at at World’s End is Jack’s personal hell: living with himself. In the first glimpse we get of him, it seems that he’s starving - and the thing is, on a symbolic level, it probably doesn’t mean literally. Finally, he finds one lousy peanut. But before he can make some meager attempt to satisfy his hunger, he gets shot. By himself. Only it’s not just plain old Jack who shoots him: it’s Captain Jack Sparrow - the man, the myth, the pirate. I discussed the significance of clothing in my essay about Curse of the Black Pearl; in short, when Jack’s all decked out in his coat and hat, it serves as a sort of armor for him - it projects the image of the glorious, devil-may-care pirate and hides the vulnerability and humanity of the man inside. And this Jack, the Jack who just killed himself, won’t allow himself to feel the weakness of hunger, or to satisfy it.
We get this Jack - merciless, almost cruel - surrounded by a myriad of other Jacks, all of whom are in various states of undress. Some are in white shirts only (dressed just like Jack was while stranded on the island with Elizabeth in the first film); some are shirtless, bearing his scars. It’s clear that Jack is disgusted with all of them - their weakness, their inefficiency. Hello, obscurely expressed self-loathing!
Captain Jack bears down on a far weaker Jack. This Jack his utter opposite - shirtless, stumbling, timid and nearly unrecognizable. This is the part of himself that he keeps buried deep down, the one that’s vulnerable and uncertain and weak - the one that kept on being brought to the surface by Elizabeth Swann, much to his dismay. The one that, by being allowed to come out, landed him in hell in the first place.
Jack, without a trace of mercy, kills him. Impales him with a sword, to be precise. (This is the part of Jack that kissed her, that loved her; the Kiss of Doom is this part’s fault, and it’s only fitting that he fall victim to the established pattern.) Interestingly, this Jack’s fate matches Will’s.
“That’s the kind of thinking that got us here in the first place,” Captain Jack declares.
And then we’re shown that it’s all madness in his head. We see him talking to himself, and then banished from his own ship altogether. There is no wind, no chance of moving forward. His soul he does swear for a breeze, a gust, a whisper - a kiss. (Or so Ted and Terry intended.) A kiss that got him here in the first place; a kiss, and the feelings that come with it, that rests at the foundation of this entire scene.
The rocks?
Elizabeth.
Now, okay, granted, you don’t usually see rocks and immediately go, ‘Ooh, I know the answer to that one!! Elizabeth Swann!’ But bear with me here. Jack throws the rock as far as he can. Doesn’t do anything. Seconds later, it’s right there again. Here he is, trying to banish his feelings for Elizabeth once and for all, but he can’t. There’s no chance. She’s there, she’s in his heart, and she’s there to stay.
In fact, the rocks just multiply, accentuating his predicament. Mocking him.
And then - the rocks turn into . . . crabs (ding ding ding! Told ya!). The crabs all work together, and they take Jack’s ship: the ship that’s the embodiment of Jack’s freedom, his power. That ship is his escape, his ability to flee, the sentiment that he doesn’t need anything in the world except himself and the sea.
Elizabeth stripped him of his utter freedom - tied him to something, to her - when he fell in love with her.
And, sure enough, here we’ve got a (very obscure) physical representation of this sentiment, as the crabs (Elizabeth!) carry the Pearl (freedom!) away, and he’s powerless to stop it.
And then where do the crabs go?
Straight to Tia Dalma (read: Calypso, read: aforementioned hardcore Elizabeth/Calypso parallels), who welcomes them happily.
Whoo.
Not gonna delve into the part with the goat.
. . . Although, if I recall correctly, the only other goat we’ve seen in these movies is in the scene when Jack and Elizabeth reunite in Dead Man’s Chest.
But let’s not go there.
The L Word
Between Will and Elizabeth, variations of actual proclamations of love come up twice in the film. The first time is after Jack is rescued, and Elizabeth says to Will, “You thought I loved him.”
Seeing the movie the first time, I braced myself, at that moment, for the horrible but seemingly inevitable, “I only did it to save you; of course I don’t love him, I love you.”
Except then it never showed up.
The only other time that the word makes an appearance in declaration form between them is toward the end, during the marriage scene. Will tells Elizabeth that he loves her. Elizabeth stares at him. Her actions certainly suggest that she loves him - she becomes his wife, after all - but then why doesn’t she say it? It’s a very noticeable omission, and a perplexing one.
How hard would it have been, in either of these scenes, to squeeze in an “I love you” from Elizabeth? Answer: not so. In fact, if they wanted to communicate the strength of her feelings for Will, the fact that Jack ultimately meant nothing to her - well, they could have, easily - one tiny three-word line - and they didn’t.
Worth noting, I think.
Jack and Jill Will
Throughout the film, Will is torn between two things: Elizabeth, and saving his father - which inevitably requires becoming the new captain of the Flying Dutchman. Meanwhile, Jack is driven by Elizabeth’s betrayal and the renewed desire for immortality it sparked in him - he’s experienced death firsthand, courtesy of her, and it’s been enough to make him conclude that it’s something he never wants anything to do with again. We can assume, toward the beginning of the film, that Will’s heart favors Elizabeth, and Jack’s, attaining immortality through becoming the new captain of the Dutchman.
But then, gradually, we watch them switch roles. When Will creates the ‘breadcrumb trail’ of bodies, he declares that he came up with the idea by asking himself “what would Jack do?” Later, when Jack is trapped in the brig of the Dutchman, he mutters to himself over and over what Will would do in an attempt to devise an escape.
During the showdown scene between Will, Beckett, and Davy Jones versus Elizabeth, Jack, and Barbossa, we even get to see a literal switch - Jack and Will swap sides, and the moment is quite an accentuated one, too; a show is made of the way they swagger and the intensity of their stares. And whose idea was it that they switch in the first place? Elizabeth’s.
And then, when these two destinies finally unfold, both of which are desired on some level by each man, Will is the one having his heart carved out, promised immortality, while Jack? Jack has Elizabeth in his arms.
‘Til Death Do Us Part. Emphasis on the Death.
Although Will and Elizabeth technically get the ending - the closest overt thing to a happily ever after - in the film, when you think about it, it’s pretty bleak, as are all of the circumstances surrounding it.
For the majority of the movie, the two of them aren’t getting along. They’re both feeling betrayed and lied to - there’s mounting distance between them, and we don’t ever see them taking any steps closer together as the movie wears on. We don’t get to see them mend their relationship: instead, they choose to leave all their problems behind in the face of death.
When Will proposes to her, they’re both on the verge of dying, and both of them know it. This is the final push that Elizabeth needs to get her to say yes - who knows what would have happened if they hadn’t been facing potential imminent doom? Would Elizabeth have bound herself to him? Would Will have proposed in the first place? Considering what we saw from them throughout most of the movie, I’d say probably not.
They needed that atmosphere - that sense of now-or-never, the promise of an end - in order to spur them into action. When they do get married, it’s in the midst of violence and destruction and death. The blueish lighting in the scene and the torrential rain call back the opening scene in Dead Man’s Chest, where their wedding is ruined.
Their first kiss as husband and wife is prefaced by the collision of their swords; they are standing like enemies, poised to do battle, and it takes them a moment to realize that they aren’t each other’s opponents. Later, on the beach, we see their swords crossed, stabbed into the sand on the beach. Maybe it’s just supposed to express the fact that there’s cutesy pirate lovin’ going on, but I still thought that was an interesting callback to the moment before their kiss.
The thing is, Will and Elizabeth don’t get a happy ending. The apparent release from the curse after ten years of faithful waiting doesn’t make a single appearance in the film - I didn’t read any spoilers beforehand, and was completely bewildered when I came back afterwards and found out that that had originally been part of the script.
The way the movie tells it, Will gets to see her one day every ten years for the rest of her life. They’ll spend maybe five days together throughout the span of their whole marriage. It’s all made up of waiting and separation and bittersweetness - yes, it’s a testament to true love, but there’s hardly a fairytale ending in that.
And, really, there couldn’t be a more fitting resolution to Will and Elizabeth's relationship, which was never about living happily ever after as much as it was about chasing that happily ever after. What on earth would they have done when they’d actually gotten it?
And, all right, now that we’ve gotten through all of that - here we go. The actual Jack/Elizabeth interaction. Prepare yourselves.
Never Would Have Worked Out Between You, You Say?
Just like virtually every other Jack/Elizabeth shipper in the world, I felt a little cheated when I walked out of this movie the first time. Not a single scene between the two of them? After the exhilarating sexy heartbreaking J/E-tastic rollercoaster that was Dead Man’s Chest? After two films where their relationship was perhaps the most central one in the series, whether you chose to perceive it romantically or not, this just felt off, and weird, and empty. I felt like they just got abandoned because otherwise, Elizabeth winding up with Will in spite of the complex connection she has with Jack would get seriously called into question.
The second time I saw it, I was a little bit in awe of how cleverly Ted and Terry squeezed it in there.
In the subtext - the details, the things left inferred and unspoken - it’s a frickin’ J/E festival.
Hey, you remember when Jack and Elizabeth kissed at the end of Dead Man’s Chest and it was the most incredible thing on earth and “I love you”, “I know” should have felt a little bit worried because “I’m not sorry”, “Pirate” might have officially been awesomer?
Yeah.
So did Elizabeth.
When Jack said “Pirate,” she took it to heart, because when we meet her again in AWE, she isn’t the headstrong but dainty Miss Swann from the good old days of CotBP. Oh, hell no. This is one kickass pirate chick. The beginning scene in Singapore where she’s removing all of her weapons, complete with cute faces and swaggery movements, is vintage Jack. It’s practically an homage to him. Right there, we get to see the connection between them, the influence he’s had on her. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
Elizabeth and Jack have always been incredibly candid with each other - perhaps more so than any other two characters in this series. They understand each other on a fundamental level - they’re “peas in a pod,” they throw societal boundaries to the wind, and even though she’s a governor’s daughter and he’s a notorious pirate, when they’re together, they’re equals. They argue and flirt and challenge each other and see through the other’s facades, the things that they struggle to keep hidden from everyone else, the things they usually succeed in hiding. Elizabeth knows, unquestioningly, that Jack is a good man - a characteristic that’s downright embarrassing when you are essentially a professional scoundrel, not to mention the responsibility that comes along with it. Jack recognizes Elizabeth’s desperate desire for freedom - something unheard of, with women trapped in the unflinching gender role of the time period.
These two people, beyond anything else, get each other. They trust each other.
All of that kinda got shot to hell when she kissed him and left him to die.
Jack isn’t in the habit of giving his heart away to women. Kinky fun near-death sexcapades with Tia Dalma and, er, boatrides with Giselle and Scarlett, sure! Of course he’s had lovers, and might have even loved them, in his way, but not to the extent he loves Elizabeth - his feelings for her have made him relinquish some of the freedom he holds so dear, look at himself as a good man instead of a pirate and acknowledge the weakness and the sacrifice that comes along with it.
At the moment that she performed the old kiss ‘n kill, he seemed proud - almost merciful. He smiled. Called her what she secretly wanted to be. He wound up looking death in the face, meeting it heroically.
Which all seemed wonderful and noble at the time, but that was before World’s End. It’s because of her that he’s been trapped for what probably feels like forever, faced endlessly with the aftermath of what she did to him, of what she’s caused him to become.
Of course he distances himself from her when they retrieve him; of course he wants nothing to do with her. He let his guard down and let himself fall for her, and the repercussions were about as bad as could possibly be imagined. He was stripped of absolutely everything he ever valued, and really, it all went back to her.
As for Elizabeth, her feelings for Jack have jeopardized the one thing that’s remained solid for her throughout the whole trilogy - her love for Will, and Will’s devotion to her. She’s not going to want to sacrifice that.
And here enters what comes from all of that, and what defines most of their interaction in the film: hesitation.
A Little Less Hesitation, A Little More Action Please (Or . . . Not)
When they arrive at World’s End and see Jack, Elizabeth’s first instinct is to run to him - we see her make a move to, and then she realizes Will’s presence and holds herself back. That establishes quite a pattern for them throughout the rest of the film. Later, when Beckett’s fleet surrenders, a giddy Elizabeth beams over at Jack and then realizes that he isn’t looking back. As soon as her gaze falls, he looks up at her. The subtle way they dance around each other is heartbreaking, and quite the contrast to the boldness that once existed between them, but it makes sense.
Because the thing is, Will’s always going to stand between them. Jack knows that Elizabeth will always love Will; Elizabeth knows that Will will always be suspicious of the relationship she shares with Jack.
(Convenient, that the ending we’re given pulls Will out of the equation for years at a time. Intentional?)
Interestingly, the only physical contact we see between them in the whole movie is after Will’s death - the barriers are temporarily broken down; Jack holds her, and she clings to him. And then Sparrow and Swann fly away, and birds are freedom and flying is freedom and, well, that part’s pretty easy to figure out.
After Will reemerges as the Captain of the Flying Dutchman, our good friend Mr. Hesitancy makes a comeback.
In the scene where she says goodbye, Elizabeth’s eyes immediately go to Jack; we see him staring down, avoiding her. She realizes this, and only then does she say her goodbyes to everyone else along the line. When she reaches Jack, he finally looks up. When she goes to kiss him, he fends her off - which makes sense, considering the whole reason she’s leaving is to meet Will. But here, finally, they address what’s lingered, unspoken, between them throughout the whole film, and when they do part, it’s on good terms - forgiveness is finally established between them.
Peas in a Pod, Darling
Despite the tension that exists between them, the camaraderie that’s established between Jack and Elizabeth throughout the movie is definitely notable. Jack communicates his affection for her in the best way he knows how - and the only way, given the circumstances: he helps her to become a pirate. Not only that; he single-handedly makes her the pirate king - he’s letting her know, in her own way, just how much faith he has in her, and it provides her with the motivation she needs to truly become as powerful and liberated as she is by the time of the final battle. The look they share after Elizabeth declares to the pirate brethren that they’re going to fight - slight, knowing smiles - calls back to the way they used to interact, and reminds us of the wonderful partnership that still exists between them. (And, um, also, it’s just really really pretty.)
Another moment illuminating just how much Jack cares for Elizabeth is his response to Beckett’s mention of her: despite the fact that Jack has seemed to playfully deem her a murderess and makes a point of displaying to the others just how much he doesn’t care about her at all, the immediate, striking seriousness of his reply to Beckett makes it clear that he cares for her more than he lets on on the surface.
Wake Me Up Inside (And Then Cringe At My Evanescence References)
I found it interesting that, soon after they were reunited, both members of our pair helped to sort of “wake up” the other one. Jack is convinced that his rescuers are mere hallucinations until he gets to Elizabeth; she’s the only one who’s able to fully bring him back into reality. Then, a little later, he’s the one who communicates to her the sad realization of her father’s passing. They both open each other’s eyes about life and death, and I thought it created a nice, underlying instance of connection between them.
Yo Ho, Yo Ho
When the movie ends, it is with Jack decked out in his Captain Jack Sparrow gear - coat, hat, the whole nine yards - and singing A Pirate’s Life For Me.
In the scene after the credits, we see a little boy wearing a long coat (like Jack’s) and a tricorn hat (like Jack’s), singing - who’da thunk it?? - A Pirate’s Life For Me. (Like Jack.)
They could have decked the kid out in a loose white shirt and slapped a bandana on his head, and bam! Mini-Will. No questions asked. No suspicion aroused.
Instead, five minutes after we say goodbye to Jack, we get the tiny spitting image of Jack wearing exactly what Jack was wearing and singing exactly what Jack was singing. I can’t quite get myself to believe that this is a coincidence.
Now, I’m not going so far as to suggest the kid is Jack’s, but it does seem intentional to suggest that Jack’s played a pretty prominent role in this boy’s life. Which lends itself to the idea that Elizabeth and Jack have been together.
I’m pretty sure we aren’t supposed to believe that Elizabeth spent ten years on that island by herself, waiting around for Will, raising the kid, and managing in the meantime to construct some seriously impressive outfits out of grass and seaweed. Instead, it seems that she reunited with Jack somehow, and they probably had lots of piratey adventures over that decade. (Stealing the Pearl back from Barbossa! Fountain of Youth hijinks! Jack seriously freaking out as Elizabeth gives birth on his ship!) Maybe they were lovers; maybe just friends with that bittersweet flicker of something more.
In any case, I think that the ending we got was much more of an end for Elizabeth and Will than it was for Elizabeth and Jack.
I think that, given their limitations, this was really the most that T & T could give us, and I think they did a damned good job. They couldn’t very well kill Will or have him take off as the Dutchman captain and then have Elizabeth abruptly, overtly go be with Jack; it would have seemed far too whorish for Disney to abide. It was either have Will and Elizabeth live happily ever after, or what we got - which, when you consider it, really holds the underlying suggestion that things weren’t over between our ship.
Drink up, me hearties, yo ho.
:)