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Movie Title: 300
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A more intense shot of testosterone you will not procure in any film. Equal parts bravado, guts and glory, “300″ is simply the most inviting film to advance out this year – or in several. Criticized for its violence and gore, fans of Miller’s graphic novels will rep that violence and gore to be as beautifully depicted on the camouflage as in the print version. A highly hyped CGI affair the cast could easily have been overcome by the sheer impressiveness of the physical production. To his credit director Zack Snyder is blessed with and uses a cast every bit equal to the challenge of competing with Miller’s unlit improbable catch of the Spartan’s greatest narrative.

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Gerard Butler (Phantom of the Opera, Dear Frankie, etc.) adds yet another impressive and wildly different character to his arsenal of conceal roles. As Leonidas, King of Sparta, Butler is, from his pigtail to his muscled, sandled feet, every high-tail a king; a suitable leader of men. His passion and intensity is matched by a attractive performance by Lena Headey as his wife, Queen Gorgo. Though a dutiful wife and a woman in an age when being such was arrive equal to slave region, she is, in her plot, as brave and mettlesome as her husband/King. Dominic West is properly obnoxious and oily as the traitor Theron and he’s as spoiled and duplicitous a villain as one can hope for. Rodrigo Santoro as a larger-than-life Xerxes is both droll and fearfully creepy equal parts paddle queen and wanna be god. Gradual all the glitzy piercings and bling, he is small more than self-inflated egotistical child.

While there is blood and gore aplenty, the film also happens to be emotionally satisfying and I found myself with tears welling up in my eyes more than a few times, as well as wanting to raise my fist in the air along with the jacked-up Spartans! While a macho stoicism pervades their attitudes, there are, to be distinct, signs of a greater humanity beneath those ripped abs of Sparta’s army – and plenty of heart.

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Parallels and allegories are already being drawn between today’s warring world climate, spruce power dominations and the world of archaic Greece and the Middle East. While this provides an entertaining commentary, I heartily recommend leaving that baggage at home and appreciating “300″ on its occupy and embracing its escapism.

Larry Fong’s cinematography ensures that “300″ is eye-poppingly splendid from originate to attain – a blooming feast for the eyes while Tyler Bates’s bag is guaranteed to sustain your adrenaline pumping as it matches – frame-for-frame the visual intensity presented on the hide. While critics are divided on this one, audiences are flocking to it and cheering. For reliable reason, too: “300″ is dazzling veteran myth telling wed to the very best 21st century filmmaking has to offer. Spy it!

Ah, to be male in Feeble Greece: “300″ is a testosterone-driven fantasy in which all men are audacious warriors, driven by the need for battle and bloodshed. War is depicted as gloriously as any geek loner-type could hope for, with every soldier being the epitome of strength, courage, and physical brute force. Emotional bonding, sensitivity, and compassion don’t even reach into play; these men were trained to be ruthless killing machines, all in the name of preserving the glory of Sparta. This would no doubt be a ridiculous film if the anecdote were presented in a straightforward, mainstream device. But straightforward and mainstream, “300″ is not; this is pure, hard-driving escapism, from the frenetic battle sequences to the interpret special effects to the over the top performances. In this sense, it’s absolutely smart.

And it gets even better. Every shot, every setting, and every event is accentuated by a inspect so stylized that it’s practically a living duplicate of Frank Miller’s recent graphic modern. This was achieved through computer-generated imagery, which was responsible for creating most of the film’s locations. Bluescreen technology–also utilized for another extraordinary Miller adaptation, 2005′s “Sin City”–made for a majority of the sets, leaving very small for the actors to actually work with. I can only imagine the danger that went into post-production, the endless hours of crafting landscapes, characters, and special effects all with the click of a mouse. The work paid off; the waste product is an effectively heightened reinterpretation of reality, a kind of living illustration that transcends any sense of time or area. It’s the perfect peek for war legend of this caliber, something so grandiose and overplayed that you can’t glean enough.

The dwelling is fairly simple: it’s a retelling of the 480 BC Battle of Thermopylae, in which the Spartans fought against the Persians. King Leonidas (Gerard Butler) and his army of a mere 300 soldiers are ready to defend their land against the outrageous King Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro) . This is despite the fact that 1) they don’t have the blessing of the gods to go to war, and 2) they will fight against an army of over one million. But this matters not; Spartan males are trained to be warriors at a very early age, essentially the day that they’re born (only the largest, strongest newborns are spared; the puny, sickly ones are unceremoniously thrown off of a cliff) . They are taught the resplendent art of combat. They are made to seize all kinds of physical injure, including lashings. They are conditioned to never retreat, even when facing insurmountable odds. Leonidas successfully survived such rigorous training (his first major battle was against a horrid wolf with exquisite eyes), as did the rest of his men. Now, they are ready for battle.

And after taking status come a beachfront cliff, the Spartans prefer in ferocious battle with the Persians. Never on film has war been so mighty fun to contemplate. This is probably because each sequence was beautifully photographed; even graphic shots of stabbings, amputations, and decapitations are so artfully constructed that it’s hard to glean them as contemptible. The bodies of Persian soldiers are ragged to obtain a blockade of surprising strength. Blood spatters from gaping wounds in shadowy, unrealistic globules, effectively looking more like spots of ink. There’s a moment when arrows glide through the air in numbers so enormous, they block the light of the sun. Nearly every shot is drawn out, often going in boring motion to prove how carefully choreographed the gratuitous violence is.

The Spartans also fight against the Immortals, an army of disagreeable yet fantastical creatures with an appetite for destruction. They were appropriately crafted as one-dimensional barbarians, made more effective because of their appearances; they wear long dusky robes, and their pale, ghastly faces are hidden late Tragedy-style silver masks. Where they came from is anyone’s guess. I yell it doesn’t really matter, especially since they pave the map for a number of other ghoulish creatures that would give the creations of Clive Barker a urge for their money. They–and every aspect of the film, for that matter–make it distinct that the accurate emphasis is on style instead of myth, which under different circumstances would produce for a unhappy experience. But in this case, it works quite well; while a determined yarn is being told, it would be of diminutive significance were it not for the special effects.

This isn’t to say that the chronicle of “300″ is dreadful. Quite the opposite: despite being simplistic, the record is quite strong, especially when a couple of subplots are factored in. Benefit in Sparta, Leonidas’ wife, Queen Gorgo (Lena Headey), is up against a infamous Senate, already bought out by the Persians in order to ensure Sparta’s stability. The arrogant and treacherous Theron (Dominic West) is clearly not ready to handle a woman of such strength, especially since she fully supports Leonidas and Sparta’s involvement in the war. Because she intends to plead to the Council for the deployment of more soldiers, Theron challenges her authority by exclaiming that her words will plunge on deaf ears.

Another subplot involves Ephialtes (Andrew Tiernan), a hunchbacked, hideously deformed Spartan who begs to join with Leonidas and fight against the Persians. Leonidas appreciates his passion, but refuses to let him fight; he’s unable to purchase his shield, and this would only effect a veteran place in their defense system. Feeling rejected, Ephialtes personally appeals to Xerxes, who promises a wealth of power, money, and pleasure in exchange for loyalty. This scene takes situation in Xerxes’ den, in which a throng of misshapen creatures engages in an orgy. Before “300,” I never would have believed that any film could include such a scene, or at least a scene that would work in any method, shape, or acquire. I was wrong; it was a engrossing scene, forcing the viewer to reassess what is fine and what is plain.

The film is narrated by Dilios (David Wenham), a Spartan soldier with a hard-edged masculinity that shines through despite a deceptively soft yelp. He recalls Leonidas, Sparta, and the Battle of Thermopylae with eloquence; when considering the heavy-handedness of war, this is no cramped task. Yet he always gives a perfect delivery, and that only strengthens the appeal of “300.” This is in a world all its contain, a world dominated by battle cries, sword fights, and bare-chested men that are ripped like bodybuilders. It’s all thanks to Frank Miller, whose creative vision has allowed for a truly recent theatrical experience. If he creates another graphic current, I can’t wait for it to be adapted for the substantial mask.
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