Just Saw a Movie: 300

Grade: B

A girl sat behind me in the theater, and she, during the first "sun-blotting" volley of myriad arrows being fired at the Spartans, had the gall to say

"That's unnecessary."

She obviously did not come into the movie with the right head. If you've seen the trailers, then you should know exactly what you're getting yourself into with 300. If these 30-second peeks at the excess, the absurdity, the awesomeness of the film excited you at all, then by all means lay down the $7.50. If not, then you're probably going to mutter the above or some other inherent falsehood during the screening.

My error lay in watching History Channel's opportunistic treatment of the Battle of Thermopylae ("Last Stand of the 300"). I wish I waited on that; it will handicap the experience for you simply because you know better. To the movie's credit, the circumstances surrounding the battle are mostly accurate, but when it gets any more detailed, the artistic liberties become obvious. How about when King Leonidas, the leader of the Spartans played by Gerard Butler (Phantom of the Opera), spits his rousing speeches in his Scottish accent.

"We will foight fur freedom -- it is the Spurtin wee!"

Not only that, but whenever the whole "freedom" theme got drummed up, I felt temporarily jettisoned from the movie. It was as if the person next to me was compulsively whispering Facts into my ear:

But that's hypocritical. Historically, they have more slaves per capita than any other Greek state.

Really? But that wouldn't make me feel good about them. Plus, I kind of like the interpretable War on Terror allegory that all this freedom business may or may not be alluding to.

Right. So the film does a good enough job of varying up the action sequences throughout, but even then they need some kind of interruption every now and again. Breaking up the tension and adding political intrigue, there is a sideplot involving Leonidas' wife, Gorgo (Mediterranean women have the most beautiful names), who fights a diplomatic war at home. She is trying to lobby for reinforcements to join her husband while being taunted (and worse) by Sparta's top remaining senator.

But that never happened.

Shouldn't matter -- it serves a decent purpose by adding a dimension to the plot, so I can forgive that. I forgave a lot of things. The Persians throw charging rhinos and elephants at the phalanx, and in a sequence that allows the most terrific shot in the film. Really, I was half-expecting Napoleon Bonaparte to wheel out a line of cannons and begin firing them at the Greeks. And I think I would have loved it. Also, it is strange that our 300 heroes wear no protective armor save for their helmets and shields.

But their Hoplites all either had bronze breastplates on or what was the ancient Greek equivalent of kevlar. That's partly why they were such an impenetrable force.

Sure, but which would you rather see? Metal bulging six-packs or real bulging six-packs.

But I don't need to see --

Okay, but the female demographic does. In fact, those oiled-down man-abs are the only conceivable appeal this movie can present to the lady crowd, and you can't expect producers to squander that opportunity. For that reason, expect a director's cut to be released on DVD in which the Greeks fight the battle completely nude -- 300: The Olympic Edition.

The appeal lies in this excess, and the movie is always aware of this. It just helps if you are, too, while not giving a damn.