Pirates of The Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest

Mia mera prin tin megali apobasi stin Ibiriki xersoniso, apofasisame na pame na doume to Pirates of the Carribean II. Oi logoi pou me odigisan sto gkise tou cinema itan to oti to proto itan sibathitiko kai deuteron h !!!!Keira Knightley!!!!.

H tainia genikotera itan arketa kali, me merika simeia na einai arketa asteia. Pros to telos omos barethika. Isos epeidi ithela apelpismena na pao sto banio.(kapoios prepei na mikrinei tis Pespi.)

Paratheto tin kritiki tou Phil Villarreal apo tin Arizona Daily

Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of fun

Yarr, 'tis a seaworthy effort here, mateys. Here be "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest," the swashbuckling sequel to 2003's "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl," which plundered more booty than Blackbeard. A third film will set sail next year.
That blue-tights-wearing scalawag with a silly "S" across his chest ought beware, for Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) and his gnarly crew will surely raise the Jolly Roger atop ye box office standings this weekend.
Director Gore Verbinski has spun a merry yarn this voyage, which be so rollicking and well-paced it makes even a land-lubber scribe start talking like a pirate.
Avast, summer audiences — "Dead Man's Chest" is truly worthy of your doubloons, galleons and pieces of eight. Arr, even your pieces of nine.
Although the character development is a bit on the scurvy side, the film is more fun than a night at a tavern on Blackbeard's tab.
It's that tawdry buccaneer Depp who'll have you pounding your peg leg on the theater floor in salute. Swaying around in a constant state of controlled bewilderment, three sheets into the wind, his turn as Sparrow is the prize of the seven seas — equal if not superior to the performance that won him an Oscar nomination in the first film. Depp is the center of the mayhem, and 'tis the other aspects of the spectacle that circle him like sharks on a narwhal.
The story has more twists than fishing line caught in a gale. The humor and dialogue shall blow ye down, although some of the plotting is darker than the ocean on a moonless night. The visuals, which pop like a sea breeze, are so impressive you'll wish you had two eyes to take in the timber-shivering spectacles.
That cantankerous lass Keira Knightley — don't ya dare call her a wench lest she'll have you walking the plank — makes for a daunting buccaneer as British society fixture Elizabeth Swann. On the verge of her wedding to Will Turner (Orlando Bloom), an unscrupulous government official trumps up charges against the lovebirds and sends them to prison.
Will is swindled into chasing down Sparrow, a fugitive at sea who's got his own problems. Legendary ocean phantom Davy Jones (Bill Nighy) has handed Sparrow the black spot, a warning that he's cleaned out a spot in his locker for our beloved anti-hero.
Trust me, laddies, you'd rather do a waltz with a giant squid than spend a moment with Jones, a rank bloke with barnacles coming out the ears and a beard made of tentacles. Jones captains a crew of damned souls, which includes a fellow of special importance to Will.
Ahoy! Be sure to mind the plot progression, which gets a mite complex. Each of the trio of protagonists sinks into his own journeys. Sparrow, after hightailing away from Jones, ends up on an uncharted island where he's revered as a god. Even a parrot-brain would realize it's no fun to rule over cannibals who'd like to boil your holy hide.
While Will is off on his quest, Elizabeth is a few paces behind aiming to track him down by her own means. She sheds the frills and finery of home for the smelly rags of a pirate, and looks prettier than a school of mermaids in doing so. Yo ho ho, more close-ups for she.
So gather ye a ration and a bottle of rum — or a soda and popcorn, if that be more convenient — and drop anchor with this summer treasure. Aye-aye!