Ah yes, the end of the era of scurvy and scallawags is upon us. Shame too. I've become quite the saucy wench, cowardly swab, or salty dog. Maybe all three. The point is that At World's End is due out Memorial weekend next year and I can hardly wait. But after waiting three years for the second film, five months will surely pass like a leeward breeze.
At Worlds End will not only be the conclusion of the Sparrow chronicles, but the film title says it all. It's the end of an era. The first films tell us that the Black Pearl is the last real pirate threat in the Caribbean and Jack Sparrow is a dying breed. Thrilling, yet sad, because after these titanic films, it seems unlikely that anyone will ever make another film adventure on the high seas, at least not in my lifetime, and the spec piles are probably flooded with badly written and soon to be extinct pirate lore.
For me, dramas seem to be a good fit, but I, too, have a nifty little adventure to rewrite. I've put it off for three years because , well, I can hear the pitchfest now ---
What's your screenplay about, Miss Batchellor?
Oh, it's a marvelous tale about the extinction of the Arawaks in the Caribbean, ships, pirates, 18th Century medicine, a 2,000 year old sea hag, and the fountain of youth.
Ships and pirates, you say? NEXT!
Yeah, think we'll just let that dog lie lest they hang me from a yardarm or make me do a hempen jig. At least I never wrote anything about hobbits.