The two stars are for the camels, which were cute.

Rating: 2/10 (14 January 2005)

I don't want to give away any "spoilers," because, hey, maybe you don't actually KNOW the story of Alexander the Great, and if I were to say, "...and then his tricycle broke," then I may have eliminated the SOUPCON of suspense ('suspense' here meaning 'not absolute certain knowledge of precisely what is going to happen to you in the next five minutes') that MIGHT help you survive an otherwise necrotically boring film. ('Necrotically' is a word I may have just made up, as "necrotising" sounds more accurate. But I digress.)
Mind you, knowing the story of A the G won't necessarily BE a spoiler in and of itself, because this particular film has "Americanized" the plot. Throughout the film, it's pretty transparent that the director is trying to DRAW PARALLELS between AG's campaigns and modern-day US ones. A the G is not "empire-building." He is "uniting peoples." He's not conquering countries. He's "liberating" them. THEY ACTUALLY USE THESE TERMS. He talks about how great it is that people will finally be FREE. He waxes poetic about how people shouldn't think of other cultures, older than his, as "barbaric," just DIFFERENT. But, you understand, it's still important for him to teach them in Greek schools, etc. And the Persian King, hiding in the hills of Afghanistan--er, I mean, Persia? They did everything but have him sing and dance and say, "I want to be Osama-sama-sama!"
So, of course, being George Bush in linen knickers, we can't really want A t G to LOSE just for the sake of historical ACCURACY. So, if you watch this film, you will think that A to the G was actually DEFEATING the Indians, and then thought, you know, these elephants? Not so much. Maybe I'll just go home instead.
Another interesting point that you may or may not have heard of: Colin Farrell cannot actually speak with a Greek accent. So, instead of having him try to speak with a Greek accent, they decided to have ALL OF THE MACEDONIANS speak with an IRISH accent, to match him. You keep waiting for Cassander to say that they're after the Persian king because he's "always after me Lucky Charms."
Furthermore, you will be happy to know that Persians and Homosexuals are pretty much the same thing, as evidenced by the fact that they both have a penchant for black eyeliner. Even Alexander--when he was poking the boys, he was wearing black eyeliner. When he was cavorting with girls, suddenly the black eyeliner disappeared. Now every time an attractive gay boy is around, I feel myself peering at my boyfriend to see if the rim around is eyes is getting darker.
One can't be too safe.
The film is basically one in which a narrator tells the story, and every so often they illustrate what he is saying with an "action scene." However, the choices of "action scenes" in this particular case make no sense whatsoever. After each seemingly random scene where nothing truly monumental happens, they tell you that the next day, week, fortnight, year, or decade, something HUGE happened that they're not showing you. It doesn't make any sense at all. To illustrate this point without giving away any spoilers, I will include here a short script, transporting Alexander to modern times.
Narrator: Alex was an amazing banker. I mean, of course, we glorify people we remember, which I'm going to mention now to minimize the number of people who write me later and complain about the historical inaccuracies in the rest of this movie. But I REMEMBER him as a fantastic banker. He used to drink coffee in the mornings before going to work....
*cut to scene of Alex in his kitchen with his friend, Hephaistion*
Alex *grinding coffee*: I really like these new beans. Sometimes, you know, you're in the mood for straight roasted Arabica, but the cinnamon in this blend is so...
Hephaistion: perky?
Alex: You're the only one who really understands me, Feisty.
*insert a twenty-five minute scene, of a close-up of the inside of the coffee grinder. Each bean in the coffee grinder is represented by a human being, and there is a lot of spurting goo as the blades of the coffee grinder strike each bean. They scream and are tossed into the air. It appears that the person in charge of graphics for this scene has played a little too much Rome: Total War, because of the way they have the above-the-grounds scenes, where you see the little groups of coffee beans, moving as little military units, and then you zoom down further in and come in at an angle to see the individual beans trying to attack the other beans to get a better position in the grinder. Somebody has told the director that one needs to have these kinds of scenes if one wants one's film to be called an EPIC. I smell Oscar!*
Narrator (yes, I said TWENTY-FIVE minutes later): but that wasn't the most important cup of coffee Alex was going to have that day. After he left for work, he stopped off at Starbuck's, where the barrista got his order wrong, so he pulled out a gun, shot her in the head, and then rushed to his office to kill his boss, twelve coworkers, and a goat. The other bankers applauded his vision and made him the director of the entire Western Region. He started out managing just the Seattle branches, but eventually worked his way up until he was managing the entire state of Washington, Oregon, Northern California, and Idaho. Six years later, he found himself in a board meeting in Coeur d'Alene....
*scene opens on Alex at the head of a conference table, grasping a half-caf skinny vanilla vente latte.*
...you get the picture.
Scratch that.
DON'T get the picture. AVOID THE PICTURE AT ALL COSTS.