Dirty thongs

"300"
(2007)

Finally, something current. I would have had a review up last weekend if we had not gotten shut out of all the IMAX screenings. This was actually my first experience seeing a regular movie released on IMAX screens (that time Kyle ran his print of "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey" doesn't count). I figured that even if the story sucked, "300" would be good eye candy, and that's the kind of movie that might benefit from the IMAX format. Although it was a cool experience at times, I can't really say that the giant screen made it better. From where I was sitting, the first battle made no sense for about a minute. Anyway, as I'm sure you are aware, this is director Zack Snyder's follow-up to the surprisingly good remake of "Dawn of the Dead," and is the attempt of another team to adapt a Frank Miller title after Robert Rodriguez's "Sin City," my favorite movie of '05. Even without the marketing positioning "300" as a Major Film Event, I would have been psyched to see it.

Throughout the film, I kept wondering who this Gerard Butler is and whether I'd ever seen him in anything before. I had not. It appears he was the title character in both "Dracula 2000" and the movie musical "The Phantom of the Opera," as well as appeared in a bunch of other things I don't care about. The dude is very hammy and one-dimensional as King Leonidas, the protagonist of "300," who leads a coalition of willing Spartan fighters to stem an invasion by the vast Persian army. Leonidas is every redneck's self-image after a twelve pack and a pro wrestling match. Gruff, proud, stubborn, nationalist and oh-so-butch, he'll blindly incite battle upon insult but can't verbally express his love for his wife until he's staring down a hailstorm of arrows. Although Butler's Laconic bluster works here because he (like the film) is nothing if not a declamatory spectacle, I cringe at the thought of his Count Drac. Lena Headey, who I happened to like in "The Brothers Grimm," is more sympathetic here as Queen Gorgo, a stand-by-your-man type of gal who'll endure a rough rutting from her husband's loathesome political rival if it means a chance to save Leonidas and the future of Sparta. Gorgo doesn't gut a tenth of the people her husband does, but her actions are much more personal and impactful. The homefront subplot was apparently Snyder's addition (I have not read Miller's "300"), and as a device works much better than the intrusive narrator which was also inserted by the filmmakers - his chattering often feels as if it's there to compensate for a lapse in dialogue, as if the consistently arresting images weren't enough.

Now, I try to keep myself devoid of pop culture "news" these days, so walking in I was blissfully unaware that so much controversy had arisen over "300." As documented on the thorough Wikipedia page, folks are viewing it as everything from an incitement for an American invasion of Iran to a grossly ignorant demonization of non-Western culture. I didn't go in looking for it, but I can't say I didn't notice how Leonidas' haughty disregard for the wishes of the hand-wringing peacenik council leaders seemed to wink at W's presidential attitude, nor how the eventual vindication of his actions seemed like a projected "happy" ending to the nasty business currently incinerating the Middle East. Furthermore, it might just be due to the modes of media interpretation I learned in college, but all of the heroes' references to fighting "in the shade" as well as the Persians' depiction as a pan-racial conglomeration of non-Caucasoid barbarians and "abnormals" doesn't point to an enlightened view of intercultural diversity. These Persians are basically the faceless, brown-skinned "terrorist" villains from any '80s Schwarzenegger flick. Add to this the obvious androgynization of Persian leader Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro, channeling Jaye Davidson in "Stargate") and the Spartans' constant demasculinization of the Acadians who join them but ultimately flee, and it seems bizarre that the young Spartan fighters Astinos and Stelios are allowed to appear so latently hot for each other's rippling pecs.

It's tempting to view all of those apparent prejudices through a modern lens and conclude that "300" is nothing but a decapi-tastically gorgeous commercial for membership in the Patriotic Alliance. This is a major modern film financed by Hollywood dollars, positioned for off-season box office dominance, with commercial tie-ins and action figures and everything. It's understandable that those who believe the movie is out to poison the world's minds with Neanderthal ultramegaconservatism would be banging their pots and pans as loudly as possible. However, those well-meaning wailers are missing two crucial points. First, the film is based on a comic book - itself a dramatization of an actual event - written and published years before The Day the Eagle Cried, so if the story has contemporary resonance, it's simply evidence of history repeating itself. Second, both the book and the film are meant to depict the Spartans' point of view at the time of the Battle of Thermopylae. To them, why wouldn't the Persians look like exotically evil monsters, or the uncommitted Acadians like snot-nosed wussies, or the philosophers in Athens like do-nothing buggerers? If you claim that people living in the modern world cannot make or understand a popcorn film from the point of view of a bygone civilization, you also have to believe men cannot make or understand films about women or young people cannot make or understand films about old people. Fans of Douglas Sirk or Sofia Coppola might have an argument with you. I think I'm a fan of Zack Snyder, and I will argue that while there is plenty of myopic, macho, jingoist, xenophobic, homophobic stuff in "300," none of it reflects on the intentions of its creators. Its simple themes shouldn't register any more deeply than its muted color palette - it's artifice, after all.