“THE PIRATE KING”

When there is a particularly heavy topic that is necessary to discuss, it can often be a good tactic to hide it within a more light-hearted setting. It’s an easier gateway to pull an audience into a story and subject matter that might otherwise be avoided for fears of being too emotionally overwhelming. The goal is not to be entirely deceptive, but rather to more easily invite a larger audience in, allowing them to enjoy the frivolity being offered while also taking note of the more serious topics that will be discussed. It’s a plan of attack that “The Pirate King” seems to employ. Even its title evokes a more whimsical tone than what is eventually revealed. In that respect, the film represents an admirable attempt to elevate a pressing social issue, one that may be underdiscussed but is incredibly important to showcase. Where it tends to falter, however, is in a narrative that is too sluggish and lacks focus to be entirely riveting.

The focus of this tale centers around Todd (Rob Riggle), a veteran who is still finding himself wrestling with the trauma he’s suffered after his deployment in Afghanistan. Dealing with alcoholism and bouts of PTSD, he struggles to maintain stable finances. His circumstances are especially daunting as he is in the midst of a custody battle with his ex-wife over his daughter, Emmylou (Adele Abinante). Still, he tries to be as supportive a father can be, and indulges in her love of all things related to pirates. For example, he takes her to see a reenactment production populated with local talent. She becomes so enamored by them that Todd asks if they can join their brigade. It’s an attempt to demonstrate his devotion to his daughter, but he also finds himself bonding with many of this crew’s members. David (Matt Barr) is the de facto leader and is another veteran attempting to cope with similar personal issues. A romance is flirted with between Todd and Laura (Jordana Brewster), in which her more fiery persona is quite alluring. However, the stresses in Todd’s life begin to bear down on him, and it will be the act of meeting these new individuals that will begin the journey to finally unearth the inner peace he so desperately needs.

Director Josh Plasse has clearly noble intentions in the crafting of this story. There may be a slightly more lighthearted entry point to this world, but the commentary is meant to bring awareness to the harsh reality that this country’s veterans find themselves facing when they return home from such hellish conditions they’ve endured. The script that he and Brev Moss have assembled wants to mine for deeper thematic commentary, creating a more subdued character drama that explores this complex interiority. However, the biggest issue is that those intentions end up getting lost in a lethargic narrative that struggles to push its dramatic momentum forward. The premise regarding the pirates quickly feels like more of a cosmetic quirk within the story. Todd’s daughter is so heavily involved with this group that her participation becomes incorporated into the show. But when the custody battle intensifies, she is removed from Todd’s orbit, making the continual effort to continue volunteering for these shows a bit odd. Yes, it’s because he’s building his own rapport with these people, but now such connections feel forced when the passion from his daughter is now absent.

Overall, there is a strain to naturally fit together some of these narrative strings that, on their own, would satisfy an entire arc for themselves. True, they are mostly connected on the surface. The father-daughter relationship is affected by the combative status of the parents, which is rooted in the protagonist’s unresolved emotional issues, which are part of a larger pattern of mental illness that afflicts so many people. However, this story does not smoothly toggle between the interior character study and the heavy-handed PSA. A touching moment when Todd visits the grave of a fallen soldier who has committed suicide finds disruption with dialogue that blurts out statistical data from a character wearing a shirt that advertises the charity that seeks to aid. To be clear, the issue is not with the action itself but rather its ungainly deployment in the narrative. It speaks to the storytelling not being focused enough to build a natural character study that can utilize a nuanced portrait for a larger commentary in more subtle ways. With a runtime that pushes almost two hours, the story meanders through a set of pedestrian connections (the budding romance between two emotionally unavailable people goes in pretty much the exact direction you’d think it does). Even the cinematography captures a rather drab setting with little texture to make this environment pop in any way.

Still, what makes any of this work is the credible performances being displayed by the ensemble, with a special acknowledgement to Riggle. There are familiar structures within this character, but he manages to find a complexity within the quiet moments that land with such an impact. When he is rattled by a noise that triggers a flashback, he doesn’t play up histrionics and instead will go cold, retreating into himself. One can surmise there is real-life influence from his own experiences, as Riggle is a veteran himself, and there’s an authenticity he brings to the role that is appreciated. There’s a camaraderie that is felt between his character and Dave, though one wishes these reflecting portraits were a harder driving force. Still, there’s a boisterous energy that Barr gives the role that highlights this man’s engaging aura and dark insecurities. He’s a captivating presence whenever on screen, and ends up being the most effective of the supporting players. Brewster shares a nice chemistry with her scene partners, but a lack of complexity within the role limits her effectiveness. The same for Abinate, whose presence is severely missed throughout much of the film, and Elizabeth Tulloch as the ex-wife, though at least she gets a compelling moment in court when she breaks down. There’s also a brief appearance by Billie Lourd as the widow of a fallen soldier that Todd knew, and she handles the cathartic moment well to express her own talents. The larger problem is that the scene feels more tangential to the overall film, further underlying the larger social issue the script is tackling, rather than delivering a scene that feels like a justifiable exploration with a new character.

It’s sometimes difficult to properly judge a film like “The Pirate King” because its intentions are all in the right place. There’s an endearing story it’s attempting to convey with these flawed characters, while also highlighting the serious issue that actual veterans face and urgently need support and assistance. However, there still needs to be proper attention paid to the storytelling of a feature narrative, and no matter how noble the objectives are, the film often finds itself laboring to deliver a more engrossing tale. The plot meanders, the pacing is mundane, and the themes are muddled, stuck between a traditional character study and a broad underlying of a more political cause. However, the tender performances are what makes this a somewhat enthralling effort, especially with Riggle’s engaging portrayal. An important subject matter is a solid foundation to build from, but the finished result is a bit too internally hollow to be completely successful.