Oh fucking hell....
To say 300: Rise Of An Empire is a load of old toss is a bit like saying water is a bit wet and runny. To say that it's historically inaccurate is a bit like pointing out that it goes dark after sunset. To say that it is even worse than it's predecessor is a bit like saying 'Hole In The Wall' was an improvement on 'Noel's House Party'.
What could possibly top men in pants hitting each other? Men in pants hitting each other on boats apparently.
After the battle of Thermopylae we're off to sea because this time it's all about the build up to the battle of Salamis, which you'll remember from your history books as being the great naval skirmish in which some men in pants fought bravely for democracy against a dominatrix and her S&M fetishist brother. Triremes crash into each other, wooden ships burst into flames on impact, Persians have explosives strapped to their backs and Spartan navy commanders suddenly become Spartan cavalry commanders. It's that battle.
At least GERRARRRRDDDD BUTTTTLLAHHH!!! isn't in it. Oh, except he is for a bit, unless it was a CGI Gerard Butler, it's difficult to tell. The lead this time is someone called Sullivan Stapleton (No? Me either) who squints like Eastwood and says lines like "I would rather die free than live as a slave" with a straight face. His character is called Themistokles (which seems to be pronounced as Domestoklees), somewhere between Domestos and testicles which is about right. Lena Heady is in it but can't be arsed to put in a performance. Eva Green is in it and is pretty good actually; so good that you feel sorry for her when she has to get her tits out for the lads.
It is of course entirely possible that director Zack Snyder is in fact the end result of Beavis fucking Butthead. His settings are basiclly "cool", "this rocks' and "titties". Hur hur.
Black Sabbath's 'War Pigs' plays over the end credits. That should tell you everything you need to know about where this film is coming from. It's headbanging, one riff tedium. The one riff here consists of dark stormy backgrounds, naked oily torsos, slow motion sword swinging, penetration imagery and digitised gore. And titties. Nothing looks real, nothing feels real but it's not dreamlike or poetic or fantastic either. It's an aesthetic that wear thin very quickly. It's not pure cinema. It's total shit.
The cumulative effect is like being trapped in a teenage boys bedroom. It's Lynx and stale sweat and cans of pop everywhere. There's nowhere to hide as he sits in the corner with his console telling you how to cut through the waves of enemy combatants in order to get to the next level. This new band he's discovered plays in the background. It's cranked up really loud but you've heard it before. "This bit's really cool" he says as someone kicks someone else through a wall. "Fuck yeah! "Look at the blood pumping out of that guy's neck. Let's play that bit again. In slow motion. "Fuck yeah!, look at this bloke on a horse jumping over some flames onto a boat. In slow motion. "Fuck yeah! Titties! In slow motion!"
Fuck no! That boy is Zack Snyder and he is making multi-million dollar movies. He may not have directed this one but his jizz is all over it with writing and production credits. He's at the helm of 'Superman vs Batman' but he has the Midas touch in reverse.
So why did I go and see it? Because I'm an idiot, that's why. I'm not proud of myself. They'll make another one and I'll go see that one too. It doesn't mean I have to like it.
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