A semiotically concentrated visceral thrill that works the way it should

Rating: 10/10 (21 March 2007)

Films are stylised dreams. They use imagery to condense story lines, focus on dramatic plot devices and work, like condensed milk: they address a particular need in us while telling us they really meet many others.
Based on Frank Miller's graphic novel which provided a ready-made storyboard that must have been so useful in slashing costs 300 is more concentrated than most.
It has to work on stereotypes in order to capture the essence if not the reality of a titanic, doomed struggle that each time is mentioned still manages to capture the imagination of each of us.
Historical revisionists have recently laid upon the battle of Thermopylae the tipping point which began to see the rise of Western supremacy and Western values and the beginning of a journey that, for better or worse, brings us here, today.
300 should be taken the same way condensed milk is used these days: a total thrill to our senses disguised as something more noble. So if you are looking for historical insights, meticulous historical research, a balanced view of both sides in this conflict and a film that will leave you feeling you've learnt something new you will have to wait until the History Channel documentary that, I feel, will not be long coming, shows up.
The rest of us will enjoy an unashamed ode to violence legitimised by its connection to the historical moment in a stand that makes Alamo look like a Sunday picnic.
Is it enjoyable for what it is? Absolutely! Zack Snyder has obviously used his megaphone to yell "more!" so many times that actors and special effects guys have gone into a state of permanent delivery overdrive.
There is more blood, more gore, more death, more violence, more rousing speeches and laugh-in-the-face-of-death one-liners than any other film would reasonably be expected to be able to get away with.
The reason it all works here is that the setting to the doomed battle that actually happened is worked up so fast and in such stupendously realised stylisation that your brain never engages its analytical gears. The result is equivalent to knowing you're in a dream but never wanting to wake up.
At 117 minutes long the film is taut, the action slick and when it's over and you start breathing normally again you begin to realise why multi-plex bosses hate the wear and tear films like these impose on seats.