I was re-reading the transcript for the CotBP writers' commentary, and reminding myself on some of the perspectives the different writers take. And I was amused by how many ideas about the characters stuck with me over the years (the Jack & Barbossa stuff unfff) and how many I clean forgot.
One of the latter "forgotten" type was Elliott's explanation on his and Rossio's thought process regarding deleted moment where Elizabeth tells Norrington she would have accepted his proposal even if he refused to save Will. And he talks about this notion that, at that point, Barbossa (who in addition to everything he did and threatened to do to her personally would be responsible for killing Will) and Jack (who, at the time, is a disappointing liar who lies and apparently doesn't bother with heroics at all) have so thoroughly disillusioned her for the moment, that she's in a mindset that the Romantic idealized vision of a pirate she's always held onto does not exist, and she needs to learn to "accept [her] societal constraints [and] find a way to be happy within them."
And while I think that scene ultimately cannot be factored into her character arc (because it was in fact deleted), it still is kind of fascinating concept to me, especially with the added weight it piles onto that "Belly of the Whale" moment for the leads. It comes through in her sad performance, where she fakes being happy about it, and while it already broke my heart for her to begin with, this idea somehow makes it sting on her behalf even worse. Because her relationship with piracy is never just about the face value of whether or not they're all criminals--it's about her relationship with those societal constraints. That choice to settle with the outcome she "should" be happy in is her choosing to go back to a world that leaves her unable to breathe, nearly drowning, because her heart's desires cannot be truly listened to. And it's lowkey temporarily tragic that she reaches that point of believing that's her only option left in that moment---not just because of the immediate circumstances, but because her dreams and worldview have been so thoroughly wrecked.
But it also underscores what Ted says of the closing scene, when Will appears in that funky get up and commits an act of piracy for the good of another human. The finale of CotBP isn't the moment when Elizabeth finally either falls in love or realizes how much she's fallen in love with Will, like might happen in some other stories. She's loved him the entire time by that point and it never changes, is never a question at any point in the story.
Instead, it's the moment when he helps her fall back in love with piracy again. His actions help her regain hope for the world around her, that there is still Romance with a Capital R to believe in, it isn't childish, there's a way to upset the norms that suffocate her, there are choices they really are still free to risk making even if the consequences are not what they wanted.
"I love you," he tells her--and then he immediately turns around and shows her what that means. For both them, it's not just "we were bonded as children." It's not just "I think you're a fine (wo)man." It's not even just "I would die so you can stay alive." Although it is all that. As the final weight that tips it all to critical mass, it's, "I would die to make the world the sort of place you can believe is worth living in."
Her happily ever after isn't about getting a decent guy. It's getting a future, a life, that is worth being excited to live. It just so happens that the partner she ultimately chooses demonstrates a commitment to making that happen.
And I love that that's kind of the focal point of her arc and her love story? That even though the framing device is still a somewhat straight-forward love story of a rich girl pining for a poor boy, that framing device is actually kind of secondary to her love story with piracy itself, and by extension, her love story with herself and the world around her.
also, that stunning woman in tier c of the second list is @goodforareason’s valerie teague faceclaim <3
notice how some of the d-tier placements in the first list are at the top of the second one… in this essay, i—no actually. just look at it and draw your own conclusions.
I am really back in the Pirates rabbithole somehow (again, my brain is having one of those phases), and I am thinking about... like. Okay, tumblr fandom being based has generally agreed that yes, indeed Elizabeth is the main character of the trilogy. She clearly is. But it also...
Both Will and Jack are to a degree chosen ones, right? Because they are children of destiny. Jack is a failed chosen, due to abuse, neglect and what not. And Will almost missed his call to adventure, with Elizabeth being the one who mostly through her decisions is driving both of them to eventually fulfill their roles.
But also, she is the only one who is not a child of destiny. And thinking about the story from this perspective is... interesting.
Another thing though: they all certainly are Disney characters, as noticable by the fact that none of them have a living mother. You do not get to be a Disney associated main character before 2010 and have a living mother. No sir.
Character Analysis: Tia Dalma (Pirates of the Caribbean)
Who is Tia Dalma?
Tia Dalma is one of the most mythic characters in Pirates of the Caribbean, but what makes her work is that the films never let her become only an abstract goddess figure. She first appears as a soothsayer and practitioner of magic living apart from ordinary society, then At World's End reveals that she's Calypso, the sea goddess bound into human form by the Brethren Court. She sits in that gap between human and elemental force for almost all of her screen presence, which is why she feels so uncanny even before the reveal.
Her role in the story is partly exposition and partly destabilisation. She knows things other characters don't know, understands debts and bargains stretching far into the past, and keeps the plot moving by handing out knowledge, magic, and nudges that nobody else can provide. At the same time, she's never just a helpful guide. The films keep reminding you that she has her own motives and her own scale of feeling. She helps Jack, Will, and Barbossa at different points, but never in a way that makes her feel safely on anyone's side.
Archetypally, she's a seer, witch, goddess in disguise, and wronged lover all at once. She's also the classic dangerous feminine knowledge figure; the woman who understands hidden laws, the supernatural order of the world, and the emotional truths men around her would rather control than face. The films lean into that heavily; she's mysterious, sensual, amused, angry, and never fully containable. Even before the Calypso reveal, she feels like a character the world itself answers to more than the human cast does.
What keeps her interesting is that she's not written as morally simple; she's not a stable source of comfort, nor a straight-forward villain. She's old, powerful, and deeply emotional, which means her presence tends to expose how small and temporary everyone else's schemes are. Barbossa wants to use her, Davy Jones wants to wound and reclaim something tied to her, the Pirate Lords fear her. Tia Dalma moves through all of that with the air of someone who's lived long enough to see human ambition repeat itself.
Psychology
Tia Dalma is difficult to map neatly onto real-world psychology because she's literally divine. A lot of what would look unstable or contradictory in a human character is, in her case, bound up with being a sea goddess forced into human limits. That matters because the films frame her volatility as part of her nature, not necessarily as pathology. She's linked to the sea itself, and the sea in these films is changeable, emotional, destructive, generative, and impossible to fully master.
The clearest emotional wound in her story is Davy Jones. The films establish that they loved one another, that she charged him with ferrying souls lost at sea, that he came ashore after ten years and found her absent, and that he later helped the Brethren Court bind her in human form. Whether you put more weight on his grief or her freedom, the relationship is built on abandonment, betrayal, and furious misunderstanding. That betrayal is probably the single most important psychological fact about her; it sits underneath her bitterness, her unpredictability, and the sheer force of feeling she releases once unbound.
I wouldn't push a strong clinical diagnosis for her. PTSD language is tempting because betrayal, imprisonment, and rage are all present, but the films don't really present her in a symptom-based way that makes diagnosis especially useful. You don't get a portrait of avoidance, panic, flashbacks, or dissociative fragmentation in the usual human sense. You get a being of immense feeling forced into confinement, carrying an old wound that becomes cosmically significant. That's much closer to myth than to clinical realism.
If I were describing her psychology in more grounded terms, I would call it proud, wounded, and highly resistant to control. She seems to hate being handled more than almost anything. Bargains matter to her, but the films make it clear that she treats the "means" as her own. That line tells you a lot; she'll honour the broad shape of an agreement, but never in a way that makes her subordinate. She wants agency, room to act, and the ability to answer pain with force.
There's also a strong case that her human form intensifies the emotionality already in her. Tia Dalma, as we meet her, feels playful, sensual, mocking, and oddly intimate with everyone around her, yet she also carries enormous resentment. Once released, that resentment doesn't come out as tidy revenge, but as storm, maelstrom, and withdrawal. That feels psychologically consistent for a character whose whole identity is tied to the sea; emotion at a scale too large to become neat, personal closure.
Strengths / Flaws
Her greatest strength is power, obviously, but more specifically it's power joined to knowledge. Tia Dalma understands the hidden rules of the world better than almost anyone else in the trilogy. She knows where the story is heading before others do, knows how to move people toward what must happen, and knows how to operate at the level of curses, bargains, and old debts rather than simple sword-fights and political maneuvering. That makes her one of the few characters who consistently feels larger than the immediate plot.
She's also extremely self-possessed. Even when disguised as Tia Dalma, she rarely feels rattled; she can be amused, irritated, teasing, seductive, or cold, but she very seldom feels socially overpowered. That composure matters because it gives her scenes a very particular rhythm. Other characters come to her asking for help or trying to extract information; she stays on her own footing the entire time.
Another strength is that she sees through people quickly. The actor description on the Pirates wiki quotes Naomie Harris describing Tia Dalma as someone able to "see through people and understand their deepest desires", and that does line up with how she's written. She often talks as if she already knows what drives the people in front of her, and most of the time she's right.
Her flaws are tied to the same scale that makes her impressive. She's proud, vengeful, and emotionally enormous. She doesn't feel like someone who moderates herself for other people's comfort. That means she can become destructive very quickly when hurt or unbound. When Barbossa releases her, she doesn't become the pirates' obedient weapon; she becomes herself, and that self is too powerful and too angry to be directed neatly toward one side's goals.
She's also opaque in ways that make trust difficult. A lot of her interactions depend on partial truths, layered motives, or withheld information. That suits the character, but it still functions as a flaw within relationships. People can seek her out, rely on her, fear her, or desire her, but very few can actually stand on equal footing with her emotionally; she keeps too much of herself beyond reach.
Relationships
DAVY JONES
This is her central relationship, easily. Everything important about Tia Dalma as a feeling character comes back to Davy Jones. She loved him, entrusted him with a sacred duty, failed to meet him after ten years, and then was betrayed by him when he helped the Brethren Court bind her into human form. That's a relationship built on love turning into grievance so large it reshapes the world around them.
What makes the relationship compelling is that neither side gets to come out morally clean. Jones experiences her absence as abandonment and is broken by it badly enough to carve out his own heart. Tia Dalma, on the other hand, isn't written as someone who owed him domestic constancy in the human sense. She's Calypso. Her freedom is part of what she is. So their tragedy sits in the mismatch between divine nature and human expectation. He loved her as though she could be held to a promise in the way a human lover could be; she loved him without ever becoming less herself.
That's why the betrayal lands so hard; he doesn't merely leave her, he hands her over to be bound, reduced, and contained. For a being like Calypso, that's a violation as well as a betrayal. Her fury in At World's End makes much more sense once you look at it that way. This isn't only a scorned-lover dynamic, but a story about someone trying to imprison the very force they loved because they couldn't bear its freedom.
JACK SPARROW
Jack's relationship with Tia Dalma is one of those Pirates dynamics that runs heavily on mutual recognition. He knows she's dangerous, she knows he's slippery, and they speak to each other with an ease that suggests long familiarity. When he comes to her in Dead Man's Chest, he's not approaching a stranger or a simple quest-giver, he's approaching someone who understands him, sees through his evasions, and is still willing to help because the story's larger machinery is already in motion.
What makes this relationship fun is that Jack is one of the few characters who can meet her theatricality with theatricality of his own. He's not over-awed by her in the way others are; he's wary, amused, and practical. That gives their scenes a different energy from her scenes with Barbossa or Jones - there's less raw emotional history and more cleverness. Even so, she clearly matters to his survival more than he would probably like to admit.
HECTOR BARBOSSA
Barbossa's relationship with Tia Dalma is all about transaction, need, and the fantasy that powerful beings can be used. He literally depends on her to return from the dead, and later he works to free her from her human bonds because he expects that doing so will win him protection and unleash her wrath against his enemies. Her response tells you everything you need to know; she's not interested in being a pirate's weapon. "Pirates. So predictable." That line is basically her verdict on the whole arrangement.
There's history and mutual usefulness there, but no equality. Barbossa respects her power enough to fear it, yet still thinks in terms of bargains and leverage. Tia Dalma tolerates him as long as he remains useful to her own release and designs. The relationship is important because it shows how often men in these films try to treat her as an instrument and how consistently that fails.
WILL TURNER / ELIZABETH SWANN
Tia Dalma's relationship with Will and Elizabeth is less intimate, but still important because she functions almost like a strange mid-wife to their fate. She gives Will and the others information about Davy Jones and the chest, and she keeps pushing events toward the point where the larger truths about the sea, Jones, and Calypso can surface. With them, she feels less personal than she does with Jack or Jones, but she still matters enormously. She's one of the characters who sees the shape of their story before they do.
Just for Fun / Typology
MBTI - INFJ
With the usual warning that MBTI gets a bit shaky when you're typing a sea goddess, the reason I land here is because there's the combination of prophetic insight, intense inward certainty, symbolic thinking, and emotionally charged but highly self-directed presence. She doesn't feel improvisational in the way a Ne-dominant character would, she feels like someone who sees underlying patterns and speaks from them. Her dialogue is often elliptical, but it still feels pointed rather than scattered. She knows where the emotional and mythic pressure points are.
The feeling side also matters. Tia Dalma is not emotionally detached at all; she's driven by very large feelings, but they're not worn plainly. They're stylised, ritualised, wrapped in poise and mystery. INFJ hits that mix of intensity and control better than something like ENFJ, which would feel more openly socially engaged, or INTJ, which would flatten the sensual and emotional side of her.
MORAL ALIGNMENT - Chaotic Neutral
She's not law-bound, institution-bound, or especially interested in human morality as a stable framework. She honours bargains in her own way, but she openly insists that the means remains hers to decide. That puts her at odds with lawful categories almost immediately. She resists confinement, refuses to be used neatly, and acts according to her own nature and grievances rather than anyone else's system.
I also wouldn't call her Good, because, while she helps protagonists at times, she's not fundamentally organised around altruism. Nor does Evil feel quite right, because she's not petty, sadistic, or power-hungry in the ordinary villain sense. She's older and stranger than that. Her actions are driven by freedom, wounded pride, old love, anger, and elemental force. Chaotic Neutral gets closest to that combination; she helps when it suits her purposes or aligns with older balances, and she destroys when enraged or unbound. Human categories don't contain her comfortably, which is part of the point.
Conclusion
Tia Dalma is one of the best examples in blockbuster fantasy of a character who feels genuinely mythic without becoming emotionally hollow. She's mysterious, but not empty; powerful, but not detached. Her story with Davy Jones gives her a real wound; her identity as Calypso keeps that wound from shrinking into an ordinary romance tragedy. She is at once a seer, a lover, a prisoner, and a force of nature. That mixture is why she stays memorable.
So I was thinking about pirates of the Caribbean, and each characters unique moral code and way of approaching life, as one does, when I remembered a particular scene about our beloved James Norrington... the very first scene in which Jack and James meet. Now, as a long time Sparrington shipper, I adore the Sparrington fandoms adopted head canon of Jack's compass pointing directly at Jack when James is holding it as having a romantic connotation too it, but this is Disney we're talking about, and a Disney from 20 years ago at that, so it is of course just a head canon. And while it is a beloved head canon, I will always be a writer before a shipper, and what that scene says about Norrington from a writer's perspective is far too juicy not to share... So buckle up for a very long meta post about who James Norrington is as a person, and how it was set up in this scene(and later reinforced in the second and third movie). This is my first real meta post, and I'm very excited for it, so let's jump right in.
First of all, the compass scene.
As we can clearly see in the image above, since the red line that points to the object of the holder's desires is no where to be seen, its relatively easy to conclude that it's hidden from our view by the sun dial in the middle, and thusly is pointing directly at Jack. Elizabeth is off to James's right, and no one is standing behind Jack, so unless the compass was pointing at something in the far off distance that just so happened to be in Jack's general direction(unlikely) its pretty clear what(or who) the compass is pointing at. For most potc fans, this is fairly standard knowledge. But it's what this fact says about Norrington's character that I'd like to focus on. After all, what does it say about a man that a compass that shows you what you desire most is pointing at a pirate, and the very face of piracy at that, instead of your canonical love interest, when you're a Commodore of the Navy? As stated above, Sparrington shippers often point at this scene as proof that James has a bit of a pash on the ruggedly handsome pirate, or at the very least, a thing for men. But from a writer's perspective, this just simply isn't the case, and not because the writer's in this instance are the notoriously homophobic corporation we call Disney. The reason why this is so unlikely from a writing perspective is because given the context clues, we as an audience are meant to draw the conclusion that this is the first time that they meet(I have heard rumors of them meeting as children in the books, but having never read them, and focusing only on the movies, I'm not including that in this post). And since this is the first time they've met, it's highly unlikely that the compass is pointing at Jack because James has a bit of a thing for him. Even if James has heard of Jack's many exploits, he does not truly know the man behind the legend, so having romantic feelings for the pirate at this point in time just isn't believable. And even if James was a closeted gay/bi man, it's still unlikely that the compass would be pointing at Jack of all the men around the Commodore(of which there is a lot, some of whom he is incredibly close with) seeing as Jack is the poster boy of piracy, and at this point in the movie it's made abundantly clear that James vehemently detests the notion and all who practice it. If James were to be holding the compass in Jack's vicinity in later movies and it still pointed at the pirate, an argument could definitely be made that it was because he had developed feelings for Jack, but for their first meeting, it's just not realistic. So it's much more likely that the reason the compass is pointing at Jack is because of James's desire to send every pirate he meets to "a quick drop and a sudden stop" as he so eloquently put it to a young Elizabeth. This is further reinforced in the third movie when it is revealed that Beckett's desire to have Jack dead at his feet would prevent him from using the compass to find Shipwreck Cove if the pirate was not already at the aforementioned location, or, well, dead. This is again, relatively common knowledge. But like I said before, it's what this fact says about James that is the whole point of this post... and that is that James cares more about his career than anything else, even the woman he claims to love. Now for some, that statement alone might seem like a pretty obvious conclusion, but it's how this scene subtlety sets up this core aspect of Norrington's character before we even truly get to know who he is, and how it's brought to it's full height in the second movie, and the core aspect of his redemption and subsequent death in the third that I'd really like to talk about. Which brings us to the next segment of this post...
How James lost his commission to the navy...
And how he got it back
So let's start off with how James lost his commission... it's a story we all know pretty well, and one he tells to Gibbs in the scene shown above, when he plans to either join Jack's crew or get revenge on the man that(he believes) ruined his life. After Jack's escape in the first movie, James grew obsessed with capturing the pirate, so much so that he foolishly followed the Black Pearl into a hurricane, resulting in the sinking of the Dauntless, and the loss of countless lives that had been aboard the vessel. It's unclear aside from James himself who had been on the ship at the time, and who did or did not survive, but the death toll was heavy, with most, if not everyone who wasn't James, having perished in the storm. While it is not the most extreme example(which we'll get too in just a bit), this is a pretty clear example of James prioritizing his career above everything else, even reason and logic. And all just to capture a singular pirate, even at the cost of his own ship and crew, and rather ironically, the very career that he had been so desperately trying to hold onto in the first place. Which brings us to the next scene I'd like to discuss... James stealing the heart of Davy Jones. This moment is the absolute peak of this part of James's character. This is the moment where James takes his obsessive need for his career to the max. This is the moment where James truly prioritizes his career above everything else, even the woman he claims to love(and for Sparrington shippers, above the man he's reluctantly come to care about). At this point in time, when James decides to take the heart for himself to regain his old station, he's been on the Black Pearl long enough to know the full situation. That Jack is in some kind of trouble with Davy Jones, and that if Jack doesn't use the heart to bargain for his freedom, then the Kraken will hunt Jack, and subsequently the Black Pearl, down until he and everyone aboard are dead. And that includes Elizabeth. And yet, despite knowing that stealing the heart would basically mean sealing Elizabeth's death, he still decided to do so. Sure, the argument could be made that he thought Elizabeth would be able to escape somehow, but the chances of her dying at sea, or some other terrible fate befalling her before she could safely make it back to civilization would have been highly likely. Of course we as an audience know that this isn't the case, but James does not. So essentially, James was so obsessed with his career, and maintaining the image of the honorable Commodore that he didn't even truly register that he was putting Elizabeth, the woman he loves and has been trying so desperately to woo for the past two movies, in danger. And he won't fully realize the consequences of his actions until the third movie, in a deleted scene no less(I swear when I find whoever decided to delete some of the most important scenes to James's character...), when Davy Jones informs Governor Swann of his daughters untimely demise on the Black Pearl. Of course, almost immediately afterwards, Beckett retcons that statement by informing the Governor that Elizabeth was recently seen in Singapore, but for a few minutes, James has to sit with the fact that Elizabeth was dead, and it was his fault. And even after learning that she was in fact still alive, James has now finally come to the realization that if she had still been on the Black Pearl when it sank with its Captain, he would've been the one to send her to her death. And for Sparrington shippers, James has to sit with the unavoidable fact that he was the reason Jack had died(even if the pirate does come back), despite the fact that it was Elizabeth's betrayal that was the final nail in Jack's coffin, since she wouldn't have had to do that if the Kraken wasn't after them in the first place. Which brings us to the final scene I'd like to discuss...
James choosing a side, and paying the price
Now, before we fully delve into this scene, I'd like to take a moment to talk about James's own perception of himself, and his relationship with honor and integrity. From the very first scene in which we meet James Norrington, we are made aware that he has a strong moral compass. He firmly believes piracy is evil, and that all who partake in piracy deserve a swift end. He perceives his Commodore persona as being the paragon of honor and integrity, and the sole arbiter of justice. We can infer from the line "By remembering that I serve others, Sparrow, not just myself" that James does have honorable intentions when ridding the world of pirates, that being protecting the innocent citizens under his care, but as seen once again in the first time James and Jack meet, wherein James adamantly tries to arrest Jack despite the fact the fact that pirate had just saved Elizabeth's life, his actions to achieve that goal are not always quite as honorable as his intentions are. This is especially highlighted once again when James gave Beckett the heart of Davy Jones. James's intentions here were once again rooted in honor and integrity - he believes that the only way to keep people safe from pirates is too return to his old station, to the image of honor and integrity he had built around the title of Commodore, and the only way to return to his old station is to give Beckett the heart. But the action itself was far from honorable, seeing as James had to betray the woman he loved just to obtain the heart, and that he was now putting it into the hands of a dangerously unstable individual who planned on using it to commit mass genocide.
And now, we finally get to the scene above... Of course, it's made clear throughout his scenes in the third movie leading up to this one that James is already starting to regret giving Beckett the heart after seeing the damage being caused, but since Beckett is targeting pirates specifically(although we as an audience know that Beckett's definition of pirate is very loose) James figures that the ends justify the means, as he often does in situations regarding piracy. It is not until his reunion with Elizabeth, where he learns that Governor Swann is dead, and that Beckett lied to him about the Governor's whereabouts, that James truly realizes the enormity of his mistake. It is in this moment that James has a sudden realization that fundamentally shakes him to his core, and is the reason behind his change of heart later on. He realizes that the honorable Commodore persona that he had tried to cultivate and keep a hold of for so long had never been truly honorable at all, and that by giving Beckett the heart of Davy Jones, he had effectively tied the noose around the neck of his own honor and integrity, as well as the necks of hundreds, if not thousands of innocent people, with his own hands. And as that one vine goes, this was the moment James knew, he fucked up. Which leads to his decision to change sides in an attempt to redeem himself, and his subsequent death in the process. Of course, part of James's reason for helping Elizabeth escape was that he does care for her, but given everything I've detailed about him so far, I think it's safe to say the main reason that James decided to help Elizabeth and her crew was because he wanted to undo the damage he had done, and he had faith that Elizabeth, Will, and Jack would have some sort of plan to defeat Beckett, and stop any further damage to come from his mistake. And now, for his death scene itself... As much as I love the idea of James surviving and joining the pirates(whether at Elizabeth's side or Jack's is unimportant), I firmly believe that his death was a necessary end of this part of his character arc, and that if he were to survive he would still have to go through a major ego death for this part of his character arc to end properly. Because as Bill turner drives that wooden pike into James's gut, it's not just the physical death of his body, but also the metaphorical death of Admiral James Norrington, and the ideals that James had used to build the persona out of. So even if James survived, the Admiral would still have to meet his metaphorical end, thusly causing James to lose a core part of himself that had been guiding most his decisions so far, in the process, which would start the next part of his character arc, where he would have to deal with the loss of a key part of his personality, and rebuild himself from the ground up to finally, truly become the image of honor and integrity he had envisioned from the beginning.
And that concludes this very long post. I could probably wax enough poetics about this aspect of James's character to write a short novel, but I've said everything important to this post, and if I go on any longer, I'm likely to start repeating myself lol. Thank you for reading, and feel free to share your thoughts in the comments or a reblog! I will always love hearing more about our polished peacock <3
How do you think Davy Jones and Calypso met? What do you think about their relationship ?
HWOAGGHH okay so let's get right into it
Supplemental POTC sources talk about Davy Jones basically being this incredibly skilled sailor likely from wealth and means who was able to impress Calypso and gain her favor through his seafaring abilities
It's a cool origin story and I've played around with it in fic, but I've always wondered what SPECIFICALLY about him caught her eye, because he wasn't the only great sailor of his time---like, he'd have to have done something absolutely bonkers in order for the goddess of the sea to take notice
I love hearing headcanons about this, but the flavor of origin story I've ascribed to him in most of my fics is "humble beginnings" / tragic war history / desertion / escape to sea
In my stories, what Davy Jones brings to seafaring and captaining his own ship that is interesting to Calypso is both a humility about his place in life and an obsessive devotion to the sea as the one thing worth living for / keeping him alive
He's not in it for profit, he's in it for survival and ends up aiding others---I have the Flying Dutchman (visually of Dutch design, 16th century, built like a slave trading ship) taken from Dutch slave traders at the height of their operations and the captives freed, both as a practicality on Jones' end (incredibly useful type of ship that balances speed and firepower) but more importantly as a compassionate act. There has to be a reason why Calypso chose him for the most compassionate role in the world, the most essential job in easing the dead into the next life.
I don't think that it's a coincidence that Calypso appears in the mortal form that she does, I think that witnessing men's greed as the soul of the sea has made her particularly sympathetic to the atrocities of the stealing and transport of West Africans to other parts of the world, countless of whom drowned and chose to throw themselves into the sea rather than face a life of subjugation. THIS resonates with her, this makes sense to her, her entire story is about having her freedom taken from her, and for that I deeply appreciate the casting and characterization choices they went with canonically, because it lends itself to such rich meta analysis. A lot of fan characterizations of Calypso paint her as completely discompassionate, uninvolved, and uncaring about the world of men, but I do not agree with this, I see her interest in humanity being much more complex, with hate, reverence, love, and disdain all mingled together
And that's ultimately why Jones stands out to her first, because he is one of the few/only people at sea not for profit, his freedom is wrapped up in the sea, and he has enough of a broken past that makes any kind of devotion he displays deeply and overwhelmingly all-or-nothing
It's this that lends itself to the imbalance of power and lack of compromise between them, which then leads to the betrayal, etc etc. But they are at the core of their relationship the two people who understand each other more than anyone else in the world could, but they are still mired in misunderstandings because they are a human and a god, because those relationships are doomed by nature of what they are, because you can never fully understand someone whose concepts of time, devotion, and reality are so fundamentally different to your own.
I love thinking about how terrible they are for each other and how no one else in the world fits better together than them. Their story is the most pivotal and interesting piece of lore to the trilogy, and ultimately the reason why I think P4 and P5 fell flat---because the writers kept scrabbling for something mystical and fantastical to try and replicate this, but nothing came anywhere close to reproducing that same love and meaning of the Jones/Calypso Elizabeth/Will contrast. Which I could also go on and on about but I'll stop here!
Will Turner Is Not Smart: Dead Man’s Chest Edition
It’s time to dive into the second Pirates film, in which Will Turner suffers the consequences of his own actions, yet stubbornly insists on repeating the same mistakes. Previous take on Will’s unhinged decision making in Curse of the Black Pearl is here.
Prologue: Rescuing Jack in the most dramatic way possible
This was #5 on the list of Will’s unhinged decisions in Curse of the Black Pearl, and it bears repeating here because it is the inciting incident for literally everything that comes next. Will and Elizabeth would not have been dragged into the nonsense with Davy Jones or anything else that happens in the second and third movies had they not publicly saved Jack Sparrow in front dozens, if not hundreds, of witnesses.
Clownery the First: The ‘deal’ with Beckett
After Will and Elizabeth are arrested, Beckett has Will brought to his office, where he tells Will the following things: 1) The East India Trading Company wants him to recover Jack Sparrow’s compass. 2) In return for the compass, Jack is to receive letters of marque, meaning a full pardon and employment as a privateer for England.
Beckett also mentions in this conversation that Will and Elizabeth “face the hangman’s noose,” but notably he never states outright that he intends to free or pardon Will or Elizabeth. He tells Will to “Bring back that compass or there’s no deal.” But what exactly is the deal? It is implied that Will and Elizabeth can go free, but Beckett never explicitly says it. This is the sort of deal you want in writing, Will. And if not, then at the very least stated aloud, and preferably in the presence of witnesses.
Will got a pass on the clumsy wording of his bargain with Barbossa in the last movie, but apparently he learned nothing from the way that backfired. There is absolutely no excuse for his lack of due diligence here. Clownery.
Clownery the Second: Serving himself up on a plate
I hate the whole sequence on the cannibal island, so I won’t go too far into it, but if someone tells you that they eat “long pork,” run hard in the other direction. The guy who takes Will there won’t even get close to shore, and even if you don’t speak French, the word “dangereux” is pretty self-explanatory. And then, when Will runs into Cotton’s parrot, who says “Don’t eat me!”, he moronically assures the parrot that he’s not going to eat it. Have you forgotten how parrots work, Will? They repeat phrases they have heard humans say. Clownery.
Clownery the Third: Playing Jack’s puppet
In the last movie, Will didn’t trust Jack enough and knocked him out with an oar for… some reason. In this movie, by contrast, you can do anything to Will Turner. He’s shiny and dumb and easy to trick.
First of all, when Will tells Jack that they need to return to Port Royal and trade the compass for Elizabeth’s freedom, he fails to specify: 1) to whom the compass is being traded, and 2) what’s in it for Jack. He literally doesn’t even mention the letters of marque. And sure, maybe Jack wouldn’t want them, but Will doesn’t know that for sure.
So instead, Jack names his own price: Will must help him find the key. Will displays a stunning lack of curiosity in this conversation, asking almost no questions, and what questions he does ask are the wrong ones. Observe:
Will: This is going to save Elizabeth?
Jack: [hesitating, looking visibly worried; when he speaks, his voice is low, pitched so the rest of the crew can’t hear] How much do you know about Davy Jones?
Will: [oblivious] Not much.
Jack: Yeah, it’s going to save Elizabeth.
Will asks zero follow-up questions about this, or about Jack’s straightforwardly suspicious behavior. Later, he asks Gibbs why Jack is afraid of open water and receives some exposition about the kraken, but some questions a reasonable person might ask Jack in this situation are: What is this key? Why do you want it? What does Davy Jones have to do with it?
The conversation with Tia Dalma reveals this information, and Will gets a pass on agreeing to fetch the key from the Dutchman. It’s a stupid plan, but charging in thoughtlessly is basically Will’s specialty, and he’s desperate to save Elizabeth.
He does not get a pass on telling Davy Jones that he’s there to settle Jack’s debt, though. Will, for God’s sake—when Jack says that if you get caught you should say “Jack Sparrow sent you to settle his debt”, your immediate response should be, “Hold on, what debt?” Do not just thoughtlessly repeat what Jack tells you! You have no idea what you’re agreeing to! Clownery.
Clownery the Fourth: Fighting with Jack and Norrington
Will manages to be decently clever about stealing the key from Jones and escaping the Dutchman. Well done, Will.
On Isla Cruces, where Jack, Elizabeth, and Norrington have unearthed the chest, Will drops to his knees and prepares to stab the heart right then and there, so as to save his father. He doesn’t yet know that this is a bad idea, as it has only been alluded to at this point that whoever kills Jones must take his place. Jack stops him, because he needs the heart for Jones to call off the kraken, and Norrington also wants the heart, in order to give it to Beckett. All three begin fighting over the key.
The thing is, Jack and Will’s objectives are not actually opposed to each other. Will promised to free his father by killing Jones, but he could just as easily free him by bargaining, like Jack intends to do. Will and Jack could unite against Norrington, take the heart, and make their deals. Both of them could get what they want. Instead, Norrington runs off with it and both of them lose.
(Also, though Will doesn’t seem to realize it, he has good reasons not to kill Jones. If he does, he will be destroying the bargaining chip which was supposed to see him and Elizabeth freed. True, they’re both out of jail now, but they’re both outlaws unless they can be pardoned, and killing Jones would essentially make that impossible.)
Clownery.
Clownery the Fifth: Believing the Pearl can beat the Dutchman
When they’re running from the Dutchman, Will tells Jack, “My father is on that ship. If we can outrun her, we can take her. We should turn and fight.”
First of all, no. Being able to outrun a ship does not equal being able to take that ship in a fight. Those things are not the same, Will.
They are especially not the same when we are talking about a ghost ship crewed by a supernatural entity. You’ve seen Jones freaking teleport. You know by this point his crew can’t be killed. You’ve seen the Dutchman dive beneath the waves. Why on earth would you think that you could win a fight against her? You can’t beat Jones with brute force any more than you could beat Barbossa that way—did you learn nothing from the last film?
The worst part is that Will persists in this mad conviction for a very long time. At the end of the movie, he’s not sad about losing Jack—he’s angry that the Pearl is gone, because for some reason he’s decided that he needs it to free his father.
Why would that be the case, Will? Catching the Dutchman has never been the problem. You got onto it in the first place by climbing aboard a doomed ship. And even if you did catch up to it, or get on board it, you wouldn’t be able to do anything to help your father, because you don’t have the heart!
But for some reason, Will has decided that he needs the Pearl to save his father, and this delusion is the driving force behind essentially all of his ridiculous choices in the movie that follows. Clownery.
