Shy and fashion-challenged Mabel (Kristy McNichol) accompanies her bathing-beauty friends to a beach-side pirate extravaganza where she’s hit on by a sword-swinging performer (Christopher Atkins). Several mishaps leave her unconscious on a beach, dreaming of being a hot babe in the 1800s and of the performer being Frederic, a member of a pirate crew. The dream, which is 95% of the film, follows far too loosely, the plot of The Pirates of Pinzanse, including musical numbers. It also adds a plethitude of teen ballads that are as far from Gilbert and Sulivan as you are likely to find, but I digress. Young Frederic has just turned 21, thus finishing his apprenticeship with the pirates and allowing him to honorably leave them to become a pirate hunter. Somewhat affronted by his plans, The Pirate King (Ted Hamilton), tosses him overboard, but Frederic easily finds his way to shore and encounters sexy Mabel. To win her, he must overcome her major-general father’s objections, the tradition that the youngest sister marry last, and the Pirate King. Luckily, Mabel has a lot more on the ball than Frederic.
Just as when I first saw The Pirate Movie two decades ago, on my recent viewing, I was ready to hate this ’80s pop updating of The Pirates of Pinzanse. And, just like so long ago, I was surprised at how good it was…and then surprised at how it steadily became more and more insipid until I did hate it.
An updating of the Gilbert & Sullivan classic had promise. The Pirates of Penzance is a broad comic opera. Worrying about keeping a production pure misses the point. Anyway to get a laugh is good, as the original work often points out. The Pirate Movie starts as if the writer and director understand that. The addition of numerous double-entendres work exceptionally well, and even changing the occasional lyric of the classics I am a pirate king! and I am the very model of a modern Major-General by inserting topical references turns out to be inspired. The jokes are rapid fire and could come from a stand up routine:
“pirates used to operate around here, raping and pillaging.”
“Gosh, I’d hate to be pillaged.”
Things are really on the right track with Ted Hamilton as the Pirate King. He is flamboyant enough for any true Swashbuckler, adding in a sure touch with broad comedy. Equally good is Kristy McNichol. She gained popularity amongst the teen crowd with overly serious portraits of tomboys and was ready to show her sexy side. Yes, she was certainly ready. Anyone growing up in the ’70s and ’80s would have found the phrase “Kristy McNichol is hot” nearly incomprehensible, but she certainly is. She’s also a fine comedian. Add to those cast members attractive sets and reasonable action and The Pirate Movie gives every indication of being a winner. Oh well.
So where do things fall apart? The initial failing is visible from the start: Christopher Atkins. Atkins is in full, boy-toy, tween, sex symbol mode. He runs around without a shirt and occasionally in a loin cloth, and if you predilections run toward very white boys with afros, then he looks pretty good. Unfortunately, his acting chops don’t match his appearance (think how scary that is if you’re not excited by his pecks). Not only can’t he create a believable character, he has no comic timing. Lines that should be hilarious lie like last week’s fish.
Then there are the added songs. The first anemic pop number can be taken as a parody, but the banal things just keep coming: horrible ’80s kid-rock followed by horrible ’80s kid-rock. And no, your children aren’t going to like them either. Each song is worse than the last, or maybe it’s the cumulative effect. Whatever the case, by the end, I wanted to strangle the song-writer (composer is far to dignified a title).
Perhaps screenwriter Trevor Farrant heard those songs before he had finished his work. It would explain why he gave up. The story doesn’t end, just fades away. There’s no wrap up for the characters, only a pizza pie fight and an acknowledgment that it’s all a dream. The humor slips as well, going from witty to asinine, including a “spoof” of Inspector Clouseau which elevates Steve Martin’s rendition to Oscar-worthy by comparison.
What irritates me isn’t that this is a bad film. There are many bad films. But rather, that it had the potential to be such a good one and fell so short.