Lord help whichever egg infiltrator becomes my firstborn. He can look forward to a lifetime of combat, relentless training and an overbearing father who recites the archetypical battle poetry that passes for inspiration in war movies. My firstborn will be a Spartan.
I finally got around to watching
300, and it was everything that I expected it to be: a bloody, mesmerizing, über-violent epic. It’s the visual mindf**k that has been missing from action movies hell-bent on replicating the now tired tricks that
The Matrix invented and perfected eight years ago. I left the theatre with my adrenaline operating at maximum potential and the desire to hit the gym to get rid of this extra person I’ve been lugging around. My hook-ups at the local theatre allow me to watch movies for free, but if I still paid, this would have been well-worth the $7.50
(Note: that’s matinee, too! Prices are truly ridick).
Though the movie’s plot is superficial and tells a complex tale in wobbly, distorted fashion, I loved every minute of it. The gift itself lacks much substance, but the package it’s wrapped in is amazing. I didn’t walk in expecting a grand, epic film; only two hours of stunning violence.
300 met those expectations and earned my forgiveness for Zack Snyder’s poor attempt at giving this film political subtext and socially-relevant undertones. Filmmakers, and maybe people in general, have a bad habit of unnecessarily scratching at complexity. Some things are just meant to be what they are and nothing more. Let the simple things be simple and just embrace its merits.
Why can I accept this premise when it concerns motion pictures, but struggle to apply that same outlook in music? Both are entertainment vehicles that can be better indicators of views (biased as they may be) and social climates than most other outlets. Both have their lowbrow purveyors who appeal to the masses, as well as an ego-stroking community of snooty artists who appeal to critics and self-important hipsters. Yet for all their similarities, I personally hold creators in each medium to very different standards.
I’m the first to admit that Talib Kweli’s music has no place in the club, so there’s a need for dance music. Certain artists and songs deserve a pass for what they’re trying to do, but it’s hard for me to accept that. Though I occasionally grant distinctions and exceptions for MC’s with shallow music, I'm typically so wrapped up in what I like that I can only hear music in terms of good and bad. I can’t rationalize or explain it, but I rarely adapt my tastes.
If only everything in life was as a simple as the “No surrender, No retreat” ethos of Sparta.
Labels: Movies
