301
There's three things you should know about the new film, 300.
Or maybe four. Or two --
1) It's not very good.
2) Its not being very good hasn't stopped critics from hating it.
3) Critics hating it has become a rallying cry, which is, in 300, pretty much what all the dialogue eventually leads to, specifically shouting, specifically Jerry Butler shouting, using that kind of deep diaphramatic operatic Australian thing that Mel Gibson perfected in Rob Roy, er, Braveheart, and makes your buttery six pack look even hotter: SPARTANS! CRITICS SUCK! HOOOOAAAAAHHHHH!
2) It has made a lot of money.
1) Making a lot of money, in America, is fair substitute for being good, no, even better than being good since, hey --
4) Yeah, well, it's either pro-war or anti-war, pro-Bush or anti-Bush, but, by the way, everyone dies except Xerxes and the deformed traitor Democrat, er, Spartan castoff and about 4.9 million Persian soldiers who couldn't fit into the goat path to get digitally decapitated and bloodlet -- but what about the 700 Thespian volunteers who fought with the 300 but don't get a movie made about them because, I dunno, maybe they sang songs from West Side Story or something, actors all, but still, I guess if you're Frank Miller it doesn't make sense to do a graphic comic book novel thing about a bunch of volunteer soldiers, Greeks, who, you know, may have not been so hard bodied or given to leave their runts-of-the-litter newborns out to die in the elements because, WTF, who wants to look at that noise 24/7 -- which means, yeah, most of the Americans who are going to see the 300 wouldn't be around to plunk down their twelve bucks and get all moist watching that excellent half-naked white chick writhe in smoke and motion control while the pustulent, boil-pocked Democrats, er, Oracles waited for her squidspasms to subside so they could suck face. Ew.
Or maybe four. Or two --
1) It's not very good.
2) Its not being very good hasn't stopped critics from hating it.
3) Critics hating it has become a rallying cry, which is, in 300, pretty much what all the dialogue eventually leads to, specifically shouting, specifically Jerry Butler shouting, using that kind of deep diaphramatic operatic Australian thing that Mel Gibson perfected in Rob Roy, er, Braveheart, and makes your buttery six pack look even hotter: SPARTANS! CRITICS SUCK! HOOOOAAAAAHHHHH!
2) It has made a lot of money.
1) Making a lot of money, in America, is fair substitute for being good, no, even better than being good since, hey --
4) Yeah, well, it's either pro-war or anti-war, pro-Bush or anti-Bush, but, by the way, everyone dies except Xerxes and the deformed traitor Democrat, er, Spartan castoff and about 4.9 million Persian soldiers who couldn't fit into the goat path to get digitally decapitated and bloodlet -- but what about the 700 Thespian volunteers who fought with the 300 but don't get a movie made about them because, I dunno, maybe they sang songs from West Side Story or something, actors all, but still, I guess if you're Frank Miller it doesn't make sense to do a graphic comic book novel thing about a bunch of volunteer soldiers, Greeks, who, you know, may have not been so hard bodied or given to leave their runts-of-the-litter newborns out to die in the elements because, WTF, who wants to look at that noise 24/7 -- which means, yeah, most of the Americans who are going to see the 300 wouldn't be around to plunk down their twelve bucks and get all moist watching that excellent half-naked white chick writhe in smoke and motion control while the pustulent, boil-pocked Democrats, er, Oracles waited for her squidspasms to subside so they could suck face. Ew.
posted by Merlin Sulchek at
9:22 AM
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