Of bombast and beefcake: 300 – Rise of an Empire

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When I first heard a sequel or prequel or alongside-quel (?) for Zack Snyder’s 300 was being planned, I admit I was left scratching my head. I realize Hollywood, like the rather dubious depiction of Persians in these films, can’t turn down the potential for gold, in this case the box office variety … but was another film really necessary?

The original film, as insanely over-the-top as it is, contains a complete cinematic thought. The scruffy Spartan uprising against Xerxes’ Barnum & Bailey-meets-Fellini army of masked freaks has a definite beginning, middle, and somber end. Furthermore, I couldn’t imagine a follow-up film without the wolfish charms of Gerard Butler, whose career skyrocketed and pretty much abruptly ended with the first film.

Well, color me wrong. Make that sepia-toned … like the now-cliched, slow-to-fast-mo cinematography in both flicks.

300: Rise of an Empire still plays astoundingly loose with world history, turning the establishment of Greek democracy into some kind of kinky gladiator orgy of violence, sandals, and pompous speechifyin’. But it’s a lot of fun too, and does supplement nicely the narrative established in the first film.

Childishly gory and with a script that sounds like it was written by 25 monkeys left alone in a room with computer keyboards and Kirk Douglas’ Spartacus, the film is nonetheless stylish and entertaining … imagine Ansel Adams photographing the International Male catalog with production design by Fritz Lang and Hot Topic.

Sullivan Stapleton, looking and acting like Michael Fassbender’s messy brother, is perfectly fine taking the reins from Butler, as an Athenian general fomenting revolution … or something. This film is a welcome change in that it finally gives the women a chance for some serious ass-kicking as well. Spartan queen Lena Headey (so good in 2012’s Dredd) and Persian naval commander Eva Green (Casino Royale) – both such interesting presences – continue their mid-career runs of b-movie foolishness … this time colliding (quite literally) in the same film. Green particularly seems to have an absolute ball being a complete fiend, ratcheting up her smoldering seethe from the box office flop Dark Shadows.

And, yes, Rodrigo Santoro returns as Persian king Xerxes – basically RuPaul’s 8-foot tall, gilded, steroidal, homicidal cousin with a vocoder voice. He is a hoot to watch – character nuance and historical accuracy be damned. Junkie XL turns in a suitably thumping, anachronistic genre mash-up score to propel the zany proceedings along.

I suspect the filmmakers intend some half-baked metaphor for American democracy’s uphill climb against the dark, anarchic forces of some ill-defined Middle Eastern enemy. The movie’s British-accented, lily-white Greek (?) armies of waxed, Soloflex men in Speedos and capes warring against swarthy, monologuing, power-hungry, fabulously-bejeweled Persians can at times be laugh-out-loud ridiculous. This not-so-subtle subtext coupled with the weird mix of homoerotic homophobia and sexist feminism makes for a stomach-churning brew. But as long as you check your brain at the door when you’re issued your IMAX 3-D wraparound BluBlocker sunglasses, you’ll have a good time.

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Countdown: The Hobbit – An Unexpected Journey

From my wonderful publisher Open Books

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“It is unlikely I will ever sit through any of them again. I realize for devotees, those films’ slavish attention to all J.R.R. Tolkien’s elvish detail is heaven. To me, these epics are a bit of a slog. A beautiful, entertaining, transporting…slog.”

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Not too precious? The Hobbit…An Unexpected Journey

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I respect director Peter Jackson’s original Lord of the Rings film trilogy…but I don’t love Peter Jackson’s original Lord of the Rings film trilogy.

It is unlikely I will ever sit through any of them again.  I realize for devotees, those films’ slavish attention to all J.R.R. Tolkien’s elvish detail is heaven. To me, these epics are a bit of a slog. A beautiful, entertaining, transporting…slog.

However, I love fantasy films, and, as you may have guessed, I’m a sucker for the over-hyped, over-marketed, blockbuster holiday “event film.” Hence, I just got back from Jackson’s prequel The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.

If I feel the original trilogy – where one film = one book – seems a bit padded, you can imagine my distaste for having The Hobbit broken into a wallet-gouging three films.

I think this movie is too long by half, and I really wish the filmmakers had taken advantage of the inherent efficiency cinematic adaptation can bring. So much can be implied – it doesn’t all have to be seen, from every troll sneeze to goblin burp, from endless clanging broad-swords to stampeding orcs.

(I was going to jump out of my skin if there had been another lingering “Hobbit-shire-as-done-by-Restoration Hardware” set-up shot.)

However, something magical happens at the mid-point of the film, just when I had all but checked out: Andy Serkis’ marvelous motion capture creation Gollum appears in a compelling sequence that brings out the best in Martin Freeman’s performance as the titular Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins. Before that point, all of Freeman’s twee mugging and campy double takes had me longing for Elijah Wood’s vapid blue-eyed gaze from the original trilogy.

In those scenes, where Freeman is exchanging obtuse riddles with the frog-like Gollum, our protagonist has charm, wit, and palpable cold-sweat-anxiety like a baby Hobbit version of Kevin Spacey. I enjoyed him immensely there (and, of course, Serkis as well), and those moments carried me through the rest of the picture happily.

By the way, I adored the animated Rankin/Bass television adaptation of The Hobbit from the 1970s. I tortured my parents for hours, listening and re-listening to the double LP soundtrack album. No VHS/DVD/NetFlix back then to relive – had to listen to the record in the intervening eleven months while waiting for the annual televised re-run.

Given those fond childhood memories as well as both my hope that Freeman continues to show the twinkly gravitas he displayed in this film’s latter half and my admiration of the ever-delightful Ian McKellen (who looks like he kinda wants to be anywhere else in the film’s opening scenes), I will stick with this series…I just wish it were one film shorter. Enough with trilogies, Hollywood…