300: Rise of an Empire

300: RISE OF AN EMPIRE

** SPOILERS **

300: Rise of an Empire is a perfect Zack Snyder facsimile. Frame for frame matching and, via 3D, even eclipsing the virtuoso comic book panels on steroids, and bloodletting galore of 300 way back in 2007, you'd never know it's director Noam Murro and not Snyder astride the director's chair. Once more, the ancient world is depicted as a viscera-soaked decathelon of sweaty abs and pecs grunting, leaping, thrashing, and killing. Ancient Greeks and Persian monsters are so hot blooded, when you chop any part off with a sword, spear or arrow, blood bursts forth like geysers. Rise of an Empire is also a misnomer; while it briefly explains the origin of the golden briefs-wearing, golden god-king Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro), it's really more of a companion piece to 300, primarily depicting events happening during King Leonidas' valiant sacrifice against the Persian Army at Thermopylae in 480 B.C. and the aftermath. Not a traditional sequel and containing only a smidge of prequel; the studio might as well have called it During 300, While 300 Was Going On, or maybe 300: The Poseidon Adventure.

Narrated throughout by the returning Queen Golgo (Lena Headey), who doles out all of the necessary exposition as she essentially talks herself into taking up arms and leading the Spartans into the war to avenge her fallen husband Leonidas, Rise is mostly concerned with naval battles and a clash of wills (and loins) between the Athenian general Themistokles (Sullivan Stapleton) and the Persian warrior woman Artemisia (Eva Green). Artemisia is Greek born but suffered horrible tragedy at the hands of Greek soldiers. She was saved and trained by the Persians to be a lethal warrior and rose to become a confidant of the late king Darius and now Xerxes. Turns out Artemisia is the most pivotal person of this time period of ancient history; it was she who manipulated events and murdered her way to enable Xerxes' ascension to become the god-king of Persia. And, like the movie itself, Artemisia is quick to ignore Xerxes and leave him to the sidelines to do whatever she wants. 300: Rise of an Empire is based on the Frank Miller graphic novel "Xerxes," but Xerxes is barely in the movie. And rightly so. You can't make a whole movie about Xerxes because that preening peacock isn't remotely interesting.

As Themistokles, Stapleton is a far less rousing replacement for Gerard Butler's Leonidas. Stapleton looks the part fine, but lacks the lion's roar and the glint of noble madness in his eyes. His Athenian warriors - all of whom have never heard of a shirt, much less a toga - love him all the same, though. Themistokles proves a brilliant naval strategist, masterminding novel ways to sink the endless fleet of Persia. For her part, Green commands like Zapp Brannigan of Futurama, slinking around her royal barge and sending wave after wave of her ships and slaves to their watery doom before growing annoyed and deciding using her feminine wiles and other ample body parts are the answer to the Greek problem. In Rise's best scene, a night of aggressive negotiations between Artemisia and Themistokles turns into a sexy smackdown of eight pack vs. 36Cs. And yet, no peace would come between these warring powers. Themistokles is too proud and devoted to his Greek freedom and democracy, or something, to submit to be the consort of the sexiest siren of the Aegean seas. 

Unlike its predecessor, Rise of the Empire doesn't end so much as pause in the middle of battle, setting up a third 300 to continue the franchise. Rise is more unwieldy and lacks the lyricism of 300 (I can't believe I just used the word 'lyricism' to describe 300.) Rise does helpfully explain the difference between Spartans and Athenians: the Athenians wear blue capes and skirts, while the Spartans wear red capes and leather briefs. Mostly, Rise of the Empire is, happily, the Eva Green Show, a primal showcase for her talents. Artemisia is far and away the most (and only) interesting person in the movie. Green constantly remarks on how bored she is by the lickspittle Persian minions she's surrounded by. Unfortunately, the Athenians are no more compelling as characters or conversationalists. But boy, can they fight. "You fight better than you fuck," is Artemisia's assessment of her arch rival. That's what Themistokles' T-shirt would say, if he ever wore one.

300 (***)

300

This is Sparta!

300 is exactly what it says it is. It's a visual feast and the action is entertainingly absurd.  It's not deep or complex and never claims to be. I liked 300 more than Sin City because it told a better story and wasn't as preoccupied with how cool it was. I don't think any red blooded man in the theatre watching 300 didn't fantasize in the moment about being as bad ass as a Spartan. Or at least having their pecs and eight pack. If those long-dead Spartans could see how 300 portrays them - noble, courageous, half-mad, and unstoppable in battle - they'd no doubt be pleased. Of course, a real Spartan has no time for movies, he'd be too busy killing anyone who looks at him cock-eyed.

A couple of little things in 300 struck me as odd or out of place. The line "Tonight, we dine in Hell!" for instance. Hades, you mean. What the hell is 'hell' to an ancient Greek? The last shot of the movie also left me scratching my head. After the 300 are dead a year and David Wenham gives his closing speech to rouse his army against Xerxes' hordes, he leads a charge to close the picture. It's an unusual battle strategy when Leonidas explained earlier to the misshapen traitor who wanted to be a Spartan that the secret to Spartan victory is an impenetrable defensive phalanx. But whatever. When Leonidas threw his spear and made Xerxes's cheek bleed, in my head I heard the black guy in Rocky IV: "YOU SEE? YOU SEE? HE'S NOT A MACHINE! HE'S A MAN!" Or not a god, he should say. Leonidas should have said that as he was lying there with all the arrows in him. 

WWE Films puts out a couple of movies a year now starring their wrestlers but 300 is the closest I've seen a motion picture come to what watching WWE is like. As I write this, I'm watching Friday Night Smackdown and the similarities couldn't be more obvious. Over the top action? Bloody ultraviolence? Check and check. Ripped and jacked nearly naked men? Check. Dialogue yelled at the top of their lungs? Check. Straightforward storytelling with clear cut good and evil? Check. All problems solved by fighting? Check. Freaks of all sizes and shapes? Check. Strong, sexy women being demeaned with violent comeuppance to the villains who mistreat them? Check. Some homoeroticism? (See above photo). Oh my, yes, that's a check. The Immortals even busted out a dropkick and their big muscle monster hit a chokeslam. Warner Bros. could have put this on pay per view and charged $45 for it, but they're no Vince McMahon. Then again, Leonidas never did kiss Xerxes' bare ass.