Monday, March 12, 2007

300 (Naked Men, otay!)

So I saw 300 on Sunday morning and I'm not sure what the problem is supposed to be. I was really looking for the huge flaws that earned all of the bad reviews. Racist? No. Homophobic? No. Good popcorn movie? Yes. Is there something wrong with that?

Let's face it. Movie reviewers review movies for other movie reviewers. They could give a shit about the masses who buy the tickets and support the industry. Instead they appear to be in a constant war of haughty persnickety-ness that narrows the field of "viewable" cinema down to one subtitled film a year. Hey! Foreign films are great! But can reviewers review with the public in mind? We are not interested in your hyper-judgemental, film school snarkiness.

Were there problems with 300? You bet! The battle scenes dragged on in places (too much slo-mo, guys -- fun stuff, in moderation), the narrator was over-the-top (translation: sometimes sounded like those lame video game voice-overs), and the dramarama cinematics were uneven (ooo, lightning and guitars and slow-mo! again!)--but all of these things combined did not render the movie horrid and unwatchable. To suggest otherwise is completely unfair.

The movie isn't going to DO IT for everyone. The little old ladies on line in front of us were horrified when the teenager behind the counter accidentally gave them tickets to 300. They wanted to see Wild Hogs. And no doubt they enjoyed watching Travolta get a crow to the face. I'm betting they would have hated 300 just like the assortment of reviewers who panned it. And I'd take both opinions with a grain of salt.

By the way, prefacing my Monday with a fine blood and guts warrior movie certainly put me in a precarious mindset for the morning rush. Some ferret-faced business poop in a long leather coat did the old "guess which way I'm going to go" juke-move as he came at me on 5th and 23rd. Usually, my first instinct is to think (but not say) "I am a PERSON!" and divert to the right. Today, however, I deepened my scowl and put my shoulders into it. Because my first instinct was to head butt him and shove him into traffic. So he jogged to the right. Out of my way. Perhaps it was in my eyes, ay? Yaaaaaaaaay, 300!


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