Spar dumb
300 / Comic book fans, long seeking acceptance into popular culture, have had a hard time making their case due to inconsistencies in film adaptations. For every faithful, adult-fare entry such as Batman Begins or V for Vendetta, there are execrable mindless cash cows and kiddie fare like Ghost Rider or Fantastic Four. Even 2005’s Sin City, a critical and financial success, kept lines divided because some unfamiliar with the books couldn’t get past the ham-fisted dialogue taken directly from the source material written and drawn by Frank Miller.
Fans of the five-part comic series 300 (also by Miller) can breathe easier and even rejoice, for the film adaptation follows so closely to the source that only a half-dozen scenes out of 88 pages aren’t directly translated to the screen. Unfortunately, in terms of story, it’s not much of an accomplishment.
Not to say there aren’t wonders to behold. The entire film nearly bursts with the same color and vibrancy originally drawn on glossy splash pages by artist Lynn Varley, who should probably get storyboarding credit. And the action scene–used in the singular term here because it’s nearly non-stop after a scant 40 minutes of exposition –is beautifully staged using CGI and Matrix-style camera speeds with fighting so choreographed it’s reminiscent of the ’60s Batman television show, only with superimposed streams of blood instead of a cartoon explosion that says ‘Whamm-o!’ More heads roll than beach balls at a rock concert.
The story, such as it is, is nearly excruciating in its simplemindedness, loosely inspired by the ancient battle of Thermopylae: Persians are coming to conquer Greece. Spartan leaders attempt to amass an army to resist and are denied by a superstitious and corrupt council of elders. King Leonidas (played by Phantom of the Opera’s Gerald Butler) decides to fight anyway taking with him a small band of men (300, to be exact) who he declares are his ‘personal bodyguards.’
And that’s about it. The remaining hour and 20 minutes deal with the battle. And more battle. Throw in a quick pause here and there for regrouping, giving the Spartans the chance to shout ‘Hoo-ah!’ more times than Al Pacino and add a voice-over that hasn’t sounded so overwrought since Clash of the Titans. Then it’s back to the fighting.
Miller, from whom director Zack Snyder (2004’s Dawn of the Dead) slavishly gets his inspiration, has been called a lot of things, from comic visionary to hack. He’s also been called a misogynist, stuffing his Dashiell Hammett-like crime noir with garter belt-sporting femme fatales whose only purpose is to serve as the backstabbing tramp. Indeed, Queen Gorgo (played by Lena Headey, The Brothers Grimm) has little to do in the book but serve as a chance for nakedness. Snyder expands her film role, giving her another chance for nakedness and an extended sex romp that hasn’t been as unintentionally hilarious since the swimming pool scene in Showgirls. Her sexual acrobatics (along with a few other unnecessary shots of nubile females) serve as relief for fanboys growing uncomfortable at the near-constant shots of oversized sweaty male teats, including a heavy-metal Flashdance inspired scene, complete with slow motion and hair swinging.
Pedestrian story aside, you can’t say it’s not an enthralling, if empty, action-packed epic. The barebones story leaves the audience with little to do but wait for the next impressive battle scene (and they’re delivered in spades), swords and arrows. Whether the Spartans win or die is irrelevant because either path is acceptable to these mythological testosterone-fueled body builders in leather diapers.
Some may say the message of never retreating or surrendering might be corrupted by the hawks of today, but there are two points to consider. The first is basing comparisons to something so obviously fictitious. The other is that King Leonidas is always at the lead in battle.
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