This is, supposedly, the new Pirates of the Caribbean: an adventure franchise to appeal to both adults and children (and, bafflingly, critics). If you’re thinking that the world doesn’t need another campy, pantomimic, alimentary Disney shitfest, then I’m fully in agreement with you. “Popular cinema” is a cruel joke. Art must illuminate our lives, explore truth, not reflect comfortable feelings of self-satisfaction onto its beholders. We mustn’t be afraid of being bewildered, lingering in the bejeweled tomb of marketable film, for the sake of preserving a sense of control over what we consume. Prince of Persia is as painfully unimaginative as it gets, but what can you expect of art conceived at a board-meeting through keenly observed marketing statistics by men and women who care exclusively about commercial viability? It seems unfair to single it out for condemnation given that, on this page alone, there are probably worse offenders. There are also works of integrity and genius (I hope). Which would you raja see?
Words: Oisin Murphy
