Pirates of the Caribbean Defines Peak Millennial Culture

Disney’s swashbuckling caper wasn’t just a movie, but a moment

Contemplating a second croissant at the hotel buffet

Avast ye! In case you missed the recent announcement: Secret Cinema’s newest immersive movie experience will be Pirates of the Caribbean. In many ways, you can understand why this franchise is a no-brainer for a themed fan event — the visual identity is strong, the premise allows for multiple adventures and side quests (or should I say voyages), and the piratical dress code will let fans have a lot of fun.

However, what strikes me most is what this choice signifies on a broader scale. With Secret Cinema’s back-catalogue including Star Wars, Back to the Future, Grease, Dirty Dancing, and Blade Runner, the selection of Pirates of the Caribbean acknowledges that this sea-faring series doesn’t just appeal to movie fans: it defines pop culture. The last Pirates film (in a frankly declining output) was released 9 years ago, yet the franchise’s impact still cuts straight to the heart of us 30-somethings.

When the meeting is about to end and someone says “just one more thing”

When Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl first set sail in the UK in August 2003, I was eleven years old. Let me tell you, I was obsessed. I saw the film in the cinema three times in the first week it was released, making sure all my friends experienced it on the big screen; the only movie I’ve ever done this with. I had a poster of Captain Jack Sparrow on my bedroom wall (which replaced my previous Legolas poster, sorry Orlando Bloom). I quoted the movie at every opportunity. I was probably insufferable, but I didn’t care; it felt like this film was made for me.

Soon, I realised I wasn’t alone. “POTC fever” swept my school, with Talk Like A Pirate Day suddenly becoming a serious event in the cultural calendar, pirates appearing at every fancy dress party, and my dance teacher choreographing a pirates routine for our end-of-year show. A particular highlight was my older sister’s class becoming pirates on their muck-up day to mark the end of term: they attacked us with water balloons and pistols as we arrived at school, built pirate ships out of classroom desks, installed a paddling pool full of live fish in the playground, and swashbuckled into assembly in full pirate regalia. (Come to think of it, they basically did Secret Cinema on a much smaller budget.)

Why was Pirates of the Caribbean such a widely appealing phenomenon? Here are some of my theories:

Before Film Franchise Fatigue Kicked In

POV: Watching our Eurovision entry this year

The early 2000s were an incredible time to be a mainstream movie fan, particularly if you were into fantasy and adventure, and even more so if you were, let’s say, between 10 and 15 years old. In 2003 specifically, the Lord of the Rings trilogy reached its climax with Return of the King, we were eagerly awaiting Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and Pixar released its latest in a streak of masterpieces: Finding Nemo. God, I love that film (but that’s a love letter for another day).

With Hogwarts taking a year off, there was just enough room for a new adventure IP to grab the “opportune moment” and capture this excited, imaginative audience. Enter Johnny Depp in a tricorn hat.

The Pirates of the Caribbean producers understood all the elements that we kids wanted from our blockbusters: a fully realised, immersive world, at least a small element of fantasy (hence the “curse” inclusion), action at every turn, and an iconic score that we would be humming for the next 20 years — even if Hans Zimmer may have plagiarised his own Gladiator theme just a little bit. What set Disney’s piratical outing apart from the likes of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, though, was that it was… cool.

With no previous book reading required, a much looser moral compass, and witty one-liners replacing heart-to-hearts, The Curse of the Black Pearl filled the gap left by the likes of Indiana Jones and Jurassic Park. It was about thrills, adventure, and charismatic leads. Speaking of…

The Jack Sparrow Effect

Me riding the trolleys in Sainbury’s

Whatever your opinion of Johnny Depp after recent revelations (the less we dig into that, the better), we can’t deny that he created an all-time iconic character with Captain Jack Sparrow. And we all thought he was the pinnacle of cool.

Deciding to interpret the rogueish pirate as an 18th-century dishevelled rockstar — more specifically, Rolling Stones legend Keith Richards — was genius. As well as being a surprisingly good fit in terms of the costume (scarves, charms, long hair) and demeanour (swaggeringly, permanently drunk), the performance made a clear connection between this film and wider pop culture, particularly the music scene.

Whether coincidental or not, Depp’s performance in Pirates of the Caribbean tapped into a specifically millennial cultural zeitgeist, carrying us through our teenage years. Our poster boys and cult heroes were indie frontmen like Pete Doherty and Johnny Borrell, and TV personalities like Noel Fielding and Russell Brand (ok yes, this may have been a problematic time). It was the birth of the indie sleaze movement, where being messy and out of control was cool. Trying, in any sense, was not cool. Put bluntly, it was the absolute opposite of the Gen Z “clean girl” aesthetic. It was a “grubby boy” aesthetic.

Johnny Depp making sure the Dior marketing team give him more “Sauvage” ad money

Personally, I would credit Jack Sparrow’s impact with a complete shift in my movie-viewing habits. Johnny Depp’s performance led me to discover Tim Burton’s entire catalogue, from Sleepy Hollow and Edward Scissorhands, to Corpse Bride and Frankenweenie, films that have stayed with me into adulthood. And so, some good can come out of a (potentially?) embarrassing pirate obsession.

I will say, rewatching Curse of the Black Pearl through adult eyes, and in today’s climate, Jack Sparrow is a bit of a slimy creep, repeatedly leering at Keira Knightley and smirking in an off-puttingly smug fashion. Then again, have you rewatched Robert Downey Jr. in the first Iron Man lately? YIKES. Speaking of…

Theme Park Attraction Movie, Done Right

This fight scene? No notes.

You may remember the (in)famous Martin Scorsese quote from 2019, just months after Avengers: Endgame’s box office-shattering release, claiming that Marvel movies should not be considered cinema:

Honestly, the closest I can think of them, as well-made as they are, with actors doing the best they can under the circumstances, is theme parks.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to open up that can of worms again, but I would suggest that movies designed as diverting attractions rather than reflections on the “psychological experiences” of being human existed long before Kevin Feige had control of our wallets (Back to the Future and Indiana Jones being two obvious examples that spring to mind). And if they’re done right, the exhilaration of a swashbuckling adventure with a predictably happy ending can be just the escapism we all need.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl firmly flies the flag for a movie created primarily as an attraction. Literally based on the beloved Disney ride (one of my favourites), it embraces the humour and atmosphere of its source material, with plenty of Easter Eggs for theme park fans, while creating a pretty watertight plot, with a good balance of creative fight choreography, fantasy, and romance. It’s a solid summer blockbuster, perfect for the school holidays.

The feathery hat was as funny as I remembered

The film doesn’t pass up the opportunity for a witty one-liner or a visual gag; from Jack Sparrow’s iconic first entrance, stepping onto the port just in time for his tiny ship to sink to the depths, to Elizabeth Swann’s “you think that hurts? Try wearing a corset,” I found myself fondly quoting along and chuckling at every beat on my most recent viewing. At over two hours long, the journey sails along at a rollicking pace, with well-placed visual effects enhancing a lived-in world full of creative details. It really does feel like a popcorn flick combined with a theme park experience.

For “peak millennials” like me, born between 1990 and 1992, Secret Cinema’s Pirates of the Caribbean experience may be a nostalgic voyage worth saving up some treasure for, if only to relive the exhilaration of discovering it for the first time. Are you on board?