zak snyder's 300 (2007)

300 has considerably more in common with Robert Rodriguez's Sin City than just shared creator Frank Miller. both are heedless orgies of violence, both are markedly stranger than most films that achieve such popularity, and both are towering visual achievements borne of the confluence of CG filmmaking's final maturations and the box office vogue of comic book adaptations. but the best way to approach discussion of 300 isn't the similarities between the two projects, but rather their key difference: Sin City is a story, with characters, emotions, and motivations, however depraved, and the books' visual and storytelling sensibilities are rooted quite firmly in the seedy stomach of film noir, making Rodriguez's task more akin to retranslation. Miller's crude, majestic impressionist eulogy to the 300 Spartans, however, is an achievement precisely because it's unconcerned with the nuts and bolts of plot and conventional comic book storytelling, opting instead for somber spectacle.

and what spectacle emerges from Snyder's adaptation! the film is entrancing visually, even if the bulk of the compositional verve comes straight from Miller's pages. the human form and the macabre ballet of antiquity's combat are on full display in every frame, and though it's color-corrected and cg-airbrushed all to hell, the aesthetic never falters. the guitars chugga, the troublesomely Other eastern hordes charge, and we're dipped and twirled from slo-motion into slo-er-motion. the figures in movement do Miller's images enormous justice, and in this most important respect the adaptation is a complete success.

what they've adapted, though, is tragically unsuited to feature film from a narrative point of view, and offputtingly dull as a result. though certainly cinematic in nature, 300's structure and flow operate on atypical terms, and Snyder's direct reading turns a rage-blind eye to the inherent dramatic hurdles, hoping to coast by on panache alone. but lacking even cursory investment in our heroes and their impossible quest, we begin to feel that the film is progressing by simple blueprint, like a bedtime story halfheartedly read. so what's been achieved? what's the point of Snyder basically tracing 300 onto a computer screen?

the ideas that emerge amidst the bellowing and bloodshed have created a minor stir in the leadup to the film's release. in one sense, of course, any comparisons to be drawn between 21st century geopolitics and the battle of Thermopylae are history's fault alone. but the film is still a product of its own time, and 300's most potent surprise turns out to be its ringing endorsement of american warmongering. though Leonidas' hubris is as bare as his torso, it's treated more as a quirk than a vice; as the Spartans and a trifling coalition fight off warriors from an unfamiliar (and thus foul) place, the real value is placed on bravery and nationalism. and back in Sparta, an unscrupulous opponent of the ill-advised pre-emptive combat turns out to be literally working with the enemy. though these certainly aren't the type of ideas that need to be perpetuated, especially subconsciously, there's a strange courage in the film's defiance of leftist Hollywood convention. otherwise, 300 is nearly entirely an exercise in style, executed with an outrageous pomposity and visual mastery. eclipsed by a story poorly told, however, Miller's impressionism just becomes Snyder's impression.