Yo-ho-ho, yes. Ho-ho-ho, no. The Spanish galleon, with its elaborate carved figurehead, is magnificent, and the costumes are splendid, and the production overall is grittily detailed. But none of this has a lightening effect. (Nor does Walter Matthau's woozily unreliable Cockney accent.) At times -- such as during the rat-eating scene -- one can almost hear director Roman Polanski cackling evilly off-screen. At most times, especially the lamely rollicking and swashbuckling times, one is only left to wonder what on earth he could have been thinking of. With Cris Campion. (1986) — Duncan Shepherd
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