Watching 300 is like watching a high school play with an unlimited special effects and choreography budget. The movie itself is beautiful, like watching high contrast photography come to life. The action, while nothing we haven’t seen before, is suitably vicious and gory. The men…well, I’ll leave that to fags and women to talk about.
While the movie was a treat for the eyes, the story, as I feared it would be, was painfully weak and the acting can be boiled down to a series of either yelling (THIS IS SPARTAAAAAAAAA) or homoerotic coercion (All I ask is that you kneeeeel, yesss, that’s right, get on your kneeeeeees). 300 lacks the grandeur and epic proportions of movies like Troy or even Braveheart, but maybe it was never meant to be such. I’m only disappointed because I’ve loved this historic battle for the longest time, and I just really felt the movie didn’t do it much justice. It’s just another action movie set in olden times, like Apocalypto.
It also bothered me immensely the kinds of creative license Frank Miller took with his costume designs. The Spartans didn’t just fight in their briefs, they actually wore armour. The Persian Immortals did not look like hybrid samurai-ninjas in black, and weren’t deformed. In fact, many in the Immortals were the flower of Persian and Medean nobility, and they wore clothing nothing like Miller’s Immortals. Miller’s were scarier to look at though, I’ll give you that. And don’t even get me started on bisexual god-dess Xerxes. Seriously, what? Watch Alexander again, if you want to know what the Persians would have looked like.
Still, despite all this, I’d pay good coin to watch 300 again if they ever bring it over to the Mall of Asia’s imax theater.