Things Only Adults Notice In The Pirates Of The Caribbean Movies

The allure of shiny baubles and trinkets has been a staple of human desire since back when we threw virgins into volcanoes. Combine this desire with the joy we feel in solving riddles, and you get a treasure map leading you straight to a successful genre. Pirates have been woven into our culture, and the cream of the swashbuckling crop is the delicious franchise led by one Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp). Pirates of the Caribbean has sailed across the box office seas five times to rake in over $4.5 billion in booty worldwide. A sixth installment is in the works, with Depp reportedly returning to his iconic role.

The first film in the series (Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of The Black Pearl) was released in 2003. It elevated Johnny Depp from renowned character actor to household name. All five films have received a PG-13 rating but are considered by most to be a family viewing experience. Unless your toddler will get night terrors from sea monsters or gingivitis, you're probably good to gather the kiddos together for a viewing session. The first film was Disney's attempt to balance out its childish reputation and appeal to teenage and adult sensibilities as well — which proved a massively successful endeavor. Adults and children will have a very different viewing experience when sitting down to watch Pirates of the Caribbean films, though. Kids will be giddy about the pursuit of treasure and sword fights, while there are a lot of other elements that only adults will notice.

The Pirates franchise starts off in what is apparently colonial times ... or is it medieval times? It's all based in a fantasy land where you can sail off the edge of the world into a land of the dead, so the when of it all isn't too crucial. Whenever it is, they still make ships out of wood, and water operates the same as it does in our reality — unless there's a ship carrying a primary character during a naval battle. Then the wood will regenerate, or water will wash innocently over shredded hulls, refusing to follow the laws of physics. It's unlikely that kids are thinking about ship engineering and structural integrity in the middle of climactic battle sequences. Meanwhile, adults are wondering why the heck these wooden death traps won't sink into the depths.

We watch numerous times as ships pummel each other with a barrage of cast-iron projectiles, ripping holes from port to starboard. Despite their hulls being transformed into swiss cheese, the ships still manage to sail away from battles. They only ever take on enough water to force a bit of a high step while below deck, unless it's a ship whose demise is meant to establish a sense of dread, in which case they plunge into the sea within a matter of seconds. A healthy dose of whimsy is applied to the Pirates of the Caribbean world, but one thing that's never addressed is what master craftsman is assembling these invincible ships capable of multiple battles at sea.

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Or at least that's what fundamental physics lessons have taught us. Those lessons mentioned nothing about inverting your ship at the moment of the green flash to cross into another plane of reality, but the fundamentals are still there. When sailing in the open sea, you are able to travel directly to your destination — powerful squalls permitting. But ... so is everyone else with a ship. How is it that, among the vastness of the ocean, all the ships are able to track each other down so efficiently?

On multiple occasions, a ship will set off in pursuit of another, sometimes days after their target has left. Lagging departure is of no consequence, because they catch up with them in no time and are able to find them out in the open ocean. The mind of a kid will see sound logic: "They are going where they are going, so of course they will see each other." Any adult with any inkling as to how vast the world is — and how much of that is ocean — may have some qualms as to the validity of pirate ship tracking.

By the time we get to the third film (At World's End), most of the characters on the screen are essential and have their own machinations at play. Some have plans that reach far out into the future, like Will or Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush). Others' plans stretch as far as grabbing a chest in a moment of opportunity and running into the jungle — i.e. Pintel and his wooden-eyed pal, Ragetti (Lee Arenberg and Mackenzie Crook). In order for the more complex plans to come together, there are numerous moving parts that need to work in order for the desired outcome. Kids derive joy out of watching a miraculous set of circumstances come together and form a positive outcome. Adults will be a bit more perturbed by it all.

It's astounding that anything ever works out, given that no one ever makes a peep as to what's at play. If a single person around them didn't do what they thought they would, everything would crash down in spectacular fashion. A simple solution to ensure success would be to inform all the elements in play. Nope, not for a pirate — hope for the best and proudly accept the glory when you accidentally succeed in a plan that existed nowhere but in your own mind. Take notes, kids.

If the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise began to get a bit too mystical for you, remember, it started with a crew of pirates cursed to be undead skeletons whose ghastly forms show in the moonlight. By the end of the third film, Jack is rescued from the upside-down, Calypso dissolves into a cascade of crabs, and Will gains the "curse" of immortality by stabbing the beating heart of Davy Jones. The next two installments continued down the same whimsical path. The human petri dishes we call children may not have noticed by this point, but adults notice the fact that infections or disease are nonexistent.

Especially when you consider that every character in the movie is wet 80 percent of the time, it's an interesting fact that no one's wounds ever fester. In one film, Jack sports an open chunk of skin on his chin for a large amount of time. It looks as though he douses it with peroxide in between each take. The lack of infected wounds is surprising, given that everyone appears as though they bathe with rainwater and spend a majority of their lives covered in mud. No matter the circumstances — whether it be sleeping in a pig latrine or wading through a swamp — everyone comes out the other side disease-free. What a magical time to be alive. No need for hand sanitizer in the Pirates of the Caribbean world.

For the finale, you need something big: something gigantic and god-like. The ending moments of the third film featured the pirates releasing the goddess Calypso. Apparently, pirates of yore gathered some trinkets together and used them to bind the goddess into an earthly form — thus taming the seas. The fabled pirates were so poor that they had to use whatever random stuff they had lying around to cast the spell. (The junk was referred to as "the nine pieces of eight.") So, in order to release Calypso at a later time, they had to assemble all those pieces, toss them in a hat, and light them on fire while whispering an incantation. That may be enough to satiate any child's curiosity, but adults will be wanting to know more.

Once Calypso is unleashed, she morphs into a wave of crabs, assumes her celestial form, and takes command of the ocean. That means the Calypso we see creating oceanic maelstroms is the Calypso the pirates in the stories faced. How in the heck did a bunch of pirates — who were so poor they had to use junk drawer contents as their trinkets — capture a goddess? It's a question that will drive adults bonkers. Sure, Davy Jones betrayed her and told the pirates how to bind her, but it seems unlikely that you can just lasso someone with that kind of power. It's a chunk of the fantasy that is glossed over and makes us think ... prequel?