When Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl crashed into theaters in 2003, nobody expected it to resurrect a dead genre, rewrite Hollywood’s idea of a blockbuster, or anchor itself into global pop culture the way it did. Pirate movies were considered box-office poison. The genre was a joke in studio boardrooms—too dusty, too campy, too risky. Then Disney rolled the dice on a theme-park ride, hired a director who refused to treat the material like a gag, and let an actor walk onto the set with eyeliner, gold teeth, and the swagger of a rock star lost at sea. The gamble paid off. It didn’t just work—it detonated.