Without Johnny Depp, this basically animatronic mess would have been ignored by anyone with half a brain. But the general reactions to it underscore one aspect in particular: popular films, whether truly good or truly bad, have lately demonstrated that a large component of the viewing audience haven't a clue about what constitutes good cinematic art.

While many of us of a certain age look at movies as an extension of dramatic art moving forward in time from Aristophanes to Arthur Miller, just as many if not more of us seem to evaluate them based primarily on the sort of criteria usually reserved for rating computer games and cartoons. Literature and history be damned; if it ain't got visual sparks, it ain't no good.

I did manage to stay awake through this one, wondering from time to time what the hell I was doing it for. Depp provided the sole depth, an ironic gem in the midst of a sea of motile muck.