Man of Steel

Zod It
or
The Never-Ending Battle (No, Really.  The Never-Ending Battle)

Marvel Comics' film division has so saturated the movie market that its Direct Competition, DC Comics looks like a 98-pound weakling by comparison.  Oh, they did well with Christopher Nolan's "Dark Knight" Batman series (very well), but the Warners film version of Green Lantern was a little dim.  So, if they put out any more product, they'd better do it right, or be seen as also-ran's.  And the one they HAVE to nail is the DC super-star and cornerstone, Superman. The Last Son of Krypton debuted in comics in 1938, has been on-screen since the Fleischer cartoon days of 1942, a radio series since 1940, on television since 1952, and the big screen since 1980 (ushering the current glut of superhero movies).  Superman has had several iterations since, especially on television, starting with George Reeves, then "Lois and Clark," then "Smallville."  Much tribute has been paid the last few years to the movie version starring Chris Reeve—he even appeared on "Smallville" a few times before his death—and Bryan Singer's attempted re-boot, Superman Returns, was a slavish recreation with better technology, that, in retrospect, was so slavish, it was a little creepy.

The rumor is Warner Brothers HAD to make a Superman movie or pay out a healthy sum to the family of Jerry Siegel, the characters' co-creator, and coincidentally, David Goyer gave Christopher Nolan a great idea for how to handle Superman while they were making The Dark Knight Rises.  Nolan wants to direct other things besides super-heroes, so he brought in Zack Snyder (300, Watchmen) to do the film, and in some ways its a good choice.  Snyder knows how to bring comic books to the big screen, transposing the static images to a hyper-dramatic movement, even if he sometimes misses the point of what those stories are saying. The trick was making a GOOD Superman movie—even the Reeve ones corroded after a few years—out of an essentially "old-fashioned" character that challenges for worthy opponents.  What can you do with Superman that hasn't already been done?  How do you present it-him?  Is he Moses or Hercules?  Christ or Pro-Wrestler?  There have been lots of interpretations over the last 75 years, and Nolan-Goyer-Snyder have snatched quite a few of them to their purposes.

Lets talk about what's good about Man of Steel: they're no slavish interpretations: on Krypton, there are no gleaming towers, head-bands, or crystal palaces, but instead an interesting steel-chrome re-imagining, with no plastic in sight (even their view-screens are pointilated metal images), with no clean architectural lines but re-engineered as if by Frank Geary.  Superman's suit is more rococo than Ringling Brothers.  Casting is uniformly excellent: yes, Laurence Fishburne makes a great Perry White; Amy Adams a spunky, no-nonsense (for once) Lois Lane; and Henry Cavill is empathetic as the many identities of alien Kal-El, preternaturally handsome, almost beautiful, and alarmingly ripped, he never winks, acts cute, and plays it straight and unironically, with maybe a little too much furrow in his brow.  Russell Crowe's Jor-El is a bit more of an action-figure this time, which seems unnecessary, and Ayelet Zurer has much more to do as Lara than just cry and fret.  Kal-el's Earth foster parents, the Kents, are marvelous, both Diane Lane and Kevin Costner, but especially Costner, whose Jonathan Kent is a moral force to be reckoned with, fully aware that his son is not only a special-needs child, but a sociological game-changer, the answer to "we're not alone in the Universe" and all the potential for panic and fear that his very existence might produce. Costner's been waiting in the wings doing good, unsentimental character work in smaller movies, shucking his ego, for many years for the opportunity to do something this good and remind people that, yeah, he's a good, clever, disciplined actor capable of great things.

The other thing that gave me great hope for Man of Steel was its re-interpretation of the whole "growing up super" problem.  Kal-El/Clark Kent grows up with a gradually increasing set of powers—in class one day, he freaks out because he can see the skeletons of all his classmates, a cacophony of sounds from miles around threaten to split his skull, he runs to isolate himself in (as tradition) a broom-closet, and when teacher threatens to open the door, he zaps it with heat-vision.  He can't tell people what's going on—Dad's orders—but he has to learn to deal with being different, and suppress it, even to the disservice of others.  It's the "gift or curse" dlllemma, which has been touched on before in the mythos, but never to this extent.  And the other nifty thing is that more than any other "Super"-movie, this one is more science-fiction oriented, it's an alien invasion movie that "Superman" just happens to star in, and be the chief target for.  And there is a concerted effort to make this "THE moment" when Clark becomes Superman.  Here, Kent's been going from one job to another for years, hiding from society, and when super-opportunity rears its ugly head, he moves on, lest he be found out (it's also the impetus to introduce Lois Lane, who happens to stumble on this "mysterious stranger" and, reporter that she is, tracks him down).  But, that "alien threat" text is a great way to keep Superman under wraps,* dealing with the anonymity, and bringing Lane into it.  There's great potential there, as the one person who exposes to the people of Earth that there are "aliens among us," is the picture's chief villain, Krypton's General Zod.

One of the best things about Man of Steel is its cast, including Kevin Costner as Superman's Earth Dad.

And this is where the movie gets into trouble.  Not that Zod isn't a great character.  Genetically-engineered—the Kryptonian way—to be a soldier, he stages a coup in the last days of Krypton in a misguided attempt to keep Krypton "pure."  He finds the naturally-birthed Kal-El repellent, Jor-el a traitor, and is single-mindedly determined to return Krypton to its proper way.  And as spewed by Michael Shannon (who's terrific here, but then he's always terrific), he is a seriously deranged megalomaniac. And although his plans are simple, his means of doing it are so complex,** they tend to bog the movie down, leading to the worst problem with the film—it's ultimately dull and tedious.

We all remember Superman II—with Terence Stamp as General Zod—and the extended fight between Christopher Reeves' Superman and the three Kryptonian criminals which, while good for its time, seemed to be merely a bunch of fighting Cirque De Soleil wire-work.  This time, it's the way it's imagined in the comics, super-fast, punching, punching, punching, the combatants sending each other crashing through buildings and skidding across  pavement to screw themselves up and go at each other again...over and over and over again.  Comics-geeks (including me) have always wanted to see this, it's a dream come true, but like Hitchcock's retort to why his characters never go to the police ("because it's bo-oring" and then proved it in Psycho), it's too much of the same thing, no matter how much collateral damage is being inflicted, it becomes as dull as a "Transformers" movie. One shouldn't be looking "up in the sky" by rolling their eyes. Someone once expressed a dissatisfaction with "super-hero" movies because Hollywood has turned them from adventure stories to war stories, and the ante is being upped to the point of unsustainability and sameness. It's the familiar, in recent story-challenged movies, city-calving carnage, but just in different costumes, and if film-makers are going to keep trying to tap this dry well, they need to come up with unique stories besides battles royale, ones suited to the particular characters (and not particularly the villains').

And that's where Man of Steel ultimately fails—the screenwriters let the character down.  What sets Superman apart is he IS so pure, his intentions are the best, he's "the big blue boy scout," with a moral compass that's been set on both Krypton and Earth, the best of both worlds.  Here Superman makes choices for his adopted home-world that should scare the bejesus out of its citizens, and they're made about twenty minutes of destruction (and how many unseen lives) too late. Forget the considerable property damage sustained—whole city blocks are turned to scrap, buildings collapse, with I'm sure lots of people crushed in the rubble—his ultimate action and the timing of it, is just not what The Man of Tomorrow represents in any of its incarnations. The filmmakers negate what makes the character of Superman so special in that one act, making the character just another guy with too much power in a suit, and not a very good guy at that.*** 

Lots of good things here, but lots of bad things as well, and I argued back and forth with myself over what to rate this, but just because of the tedium factor I chose what I chose, so one could fast-forward—like a speeding bullet—through the never-ending battles.

Man of Steel is a Rental.

Direct dialogue grab from Grant Morrison's (and Frank Quitely's) "All-Star Superman"

* The TV-series "Smallville" did a similar thing, hiding "Supes'" as "The Blur," but Clark Kent stayed illogically stationary as a target.

** In fact, it's the same story-line of the recent story-arc "H'el on Earth" that spanned through the comics last year.

*** It's not like the filmmakers don't know it, they're preaching it throughout the entire movie.  In fact, at one point, Kal-el surrenders to the military as part of Zod's ultimatum to Earth.  He sits in an interview room, placidly, in hand-cuffs, the allowance of which is brought up by reporter Lane.  His explanation and one of the best lines in the movie:  "Well, it wouldn't be much of a surrender if I didn't..."

Sucker Punch

"Girls Acting Badly (Acting Badly)"
or
"Showgirls—The Sequel"

Look.  I'm a healthy, red-blooded American male and I can certainly appreciate gorgeous, pouty young women in provocatively scanty attire.  But Zack Snyder's semi-new Sucker Punch just made me angry.  And not just because the thing is so derivative as to be wholly unoriginal—that's usually not a deal-breaker with me, as my enthusiasm for Star Wars or Rango will attest.

But don't tell me you're making a movie about 
empowering women while objectifying them to the Nth degree in the manner of a "women-in-prison" film.  A women-in-prison film with a red-curtain veneer of strip-club in it.  Don't make an action film where giant things toss the femininjas through walls and across rooms without their make-up getting messed up (violence without consequences), and don't make the message of your film "Fight" and contrarily show 4/5 of those fighters being taken down (through their own actions) and the only one surviving being the one who isn't sure of the struggle. 

The messages are so mixed as to be incoherent.

But one shouldn't expect nutrition from eye-candy.

It's all about the illusion in this one, the presentation, and the surface.  It's "Alice in Green-Screen-Bump-and-Grinder-land: the Video-Game." All paste-up and no depth, just a good job of dry-wall, in the de-saturated style of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow.  Looks great.  But rotten to the core.

And it is too bad.  We need more women-heroes.  We need more women-hero movies.  We just need someone with more enlightenment to create them so that they don't simultaneously make them strong and tear down the message by tarting them up (like William Moulton Marston, the shrink who created "Wonder Woman" and liked to put her in bondage situations).  I'm not saying all women-characters should be pedestal-toppers.  Let's just not kick the dignity out from underneath them.

And any writer worth his word processor shouldn't be undercutting his message, anyway.

If you're going to lower the bar so far you have to dig a trench six feet deep to do so, you might as well complete the job, dig the grave and toss the whole enterprise into it.

Young "Baby Doll" (Emily Browning) is having a bad time of it.  Her mother dies, and she and her sister are left in the care of her evil step-father (Gerard Plunkett) with nothing but abuse on his mind.  "Baby Doll" (that's her only name) tries to shoot him when he attempts to rape her sister, but ends up killing her with the bullet, instead.  As if this scenario weren't dire enough, Snyder films it all over-cranked to give it a lethargic, dreamy "bad portent" feel.  It's the type of overkill you can expect throughout the entire movie.  No lock goes bolted or unbolted except in clanking close-up.  Nothing is relevant unless it's in your face (AND it's in IMAX).

ES-F has "Baby Doll" committed to the Lennox House for the Mentally Insane, where he bribes an orderly (Oscar Isaac, no scenery goes unchewed) to lobotomize "Baby Doll" to shut her up so he can inherit his wife's fortune uncontested and in the five days before the doctor (Jon Hamm, who's actually subtle in this movie) arrives for the procedure, the girl fantasizes a scenario in which she's not in an asylum, but a strip-club/bordello and she recruits four other girls—"Blondie" (Vanessa Hudgens), "Amber" (Jamie Chung) and the sisters, "Rocket" (Jena Malone) and "Sweet Pea" (Abbie Cornish)* to plan an escape, an escape concocted in a "delusion within a delusion" (Hello, Inception!) when she rehearses her dance number for the john (whose the lobotomist in the slow-mo reality) to whom her virginity will be sold in five days.  This dance number is apparently so erotic that it paralyzes all, male and female, who watch it, so that the other girls can acquire those articles needed to escape.

We don't see the dance.  We see the resulting fantasies "Baby Doll" imagines in order TO dance, and these make up the action scenarios in the film: the first, a snowy martial arts fight with three giant statues; the second, a WWI fight in the trenches with steam-punk Nazis; the third, a Peter Jackson-ish Middle-Earth with dragons and Orcs; the fourth, a SCI-FI battle on a bullet-train that's part super-hero and part Matrix—it becomes readily apparent that most of the thought and work of this film went into these second-level fantasy sequences, all played out over Moulin Rouge!-styled song mash-ups.

It is also apparent that the entire movie is a pre-lobotomized fantasy (only I think they got the timing wrong!).

So many good ideas are borrowed from other movies.  But, just because the ingredients are good doesn't mean the dish they create doesn't taste like dog-food.  I used to be a fan of Zack Snyder.  I thought 300 was dumb, but had flashes of clever presentation.  I genuinely admired his adaptation of Alan Moore's Watchmen, and still do.  But now with the 1-2 sucker-punch of Legend of the Guardians: the Owls of Ga'hoole and ...Sucker Punch, I'm going to have to do a gut-check before dropping all pretense that I can be objective before going to see another of his films. 

Which will be the new "Superman" film.  I don't even think The Blue Boy Scout can pull a rescue of that one.  We shall see... 

Sucker Punch is a Waste of Time.

The Cast of Sucker Punch...fooling themselves.

* Throughout, I kept imagining the nasty Twitter message Jane Campion would be sending her Bright Star lead after seeing this movie. 

Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole

"Use the Gizzard, Luke"
or
"Not So Much 'Hoo' as 'What' and 'Why'"

I loves me my fantasy films.  You give me a good fantasy film, and I'm back to being 5 years old, giddy with the possibilities of a world-view that has no knowledge of mortgages, property tax, paralyzing self-doubt, and Glenn Beck.  Innocence makes a comeback, the world seems simpler, and it gives us something to aspire to besides not hitting the "Snooze" Alarm in the morning.  I miss those pre-cynical days.

Which is why a lot of the current crop of kids' flicks leaves me cold.  Harry Potter used to be fun, but they've gotten increasingly dark and creepy, and they're going to end with an inevitability that's telegraphed and a bit morose (and I wouldn't be surprised if the last one were just a black screen).  I mean, c'mon, the kid has an invisibilty cloak and flies a broomstick for crying out loud, what's he got to be depressed about?  The Star Wars films were fun before Darth Freud came waltzing in, then they careened into the side of the Death Star trench—impressively, one must say, but they weren't too much fun trying to present their civics lessons.

One goes into these things with that same innocence.  Tell me a story.  Gladden my eyes.  Charm me.  Seduce me.  Make me not think about the $10 admission and the two hours I'm wasting of my too-short life.  Give me something new and let me walk out with a spring in my step and a song in my heart, and maybe...maybe...a fresh, better way of looking at the world.  We don't have to be friends, just don't make me regret the time I spent with you.  I'm easy.  I came to buy.

So, an animated owl movie sounds like just the ticket.  I like owls, even though they're predators.  They impress me, and I've enjoyed a couple of them as neighbors.  But, Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole (they needed the post-colon part, as the title couldn't be more generic) left me wanting to repeal the Endangered Species Act.  Yeah, I know, the things's popular with kids, but I remember kids used to like Clutch Cargo, which was the lowest form of animation there was. 

The story is Template No.2 in the Fantasy genre—ostracized something-or-other must prove its worth against big, bad oppressors, while putting aside its childhood loyalties in some small way.  But I couldn't help but think the authors just did a cut-and-paste job putting owls into Star Wars (yes, they really DO say "Use the gizzard" as a euphemism for instinct)  The complete lack of anything original in the plot can sometimes be overcome by clever film-makers with style.  Zack Snyder, as successful as he can be adapting other media—specifically graphic media—to a cinematic form, seems to be up a tree when making the leap from prose to image. 

I've often mentioned that graphic novels are movie storyboards with better writing, and it would appear that is how Snyder managed to make good movies out of 300 and Watchmen.  LOTG:TOOG is a mess.  It's an unmemorable mess, that flies out of the mind as if it was searching for a more palatable meal—something with meat and gristle—the only memorable thing about it being its own lack of anything that sticks.  The owls look like sock-puppets with beaks, devoid of distinguishing characteristics that allow you to follow their progress in the story.  The flying scenes are choreographed with the intention to disorient, rather than create empathy or epiphany.  The only thing I took note of were the impressive background vistas the critters inhabited, but it is the faintest of praise to say that the best thing about the movie was the stuff you'd see in the rear-view mirror.  This film is totally devoid of charm, and even, coherence.

Now, I'm sure there will be some parent out there who'll read this and immediately take umbrage ("My child LOVED this movie!!"*) and want to go on the attack, as if I was writing this with their precious issue particularly in mind.  For all you potentially psychotic parents, I don't question your child's taste (although I'd be willing to bet they were as fidgety as the kids I saw it with—and as I was—and I'd also wager that if they liked it, it was because they were familiar with the source material, and would be happy if there were a Ga'hoole breakfast cereal consisting of twigs and feathers), but this is a BAD movie.  Really bad.  A reasonable child can like bad stuff (I loved the TV-show "Supercar" as a kid—which was a marionette show about a flying car, and I never questioned why all the cars were convertibles— so I speak from experience), but this is cotton candy movie-making, spun to give an ephemeral surge of interest, but with zero nutritional value (perhaps the calories should be posted in the End-Credits, I didn't stay to find out).  When one considers how much time and money has been spent digitizing (one hesitates using the word "creating") this exercise, you begin to fantasize staking yourself out in a field, wearing a mouse-suit ("Come and get me, owls, you can't do anything worse than you alread have!!).  Better to salve your inner child with a daily dose of Babe, or Charlotte's Web.  

If your child does drag you to this mess, I would suggest texting your friends throughout the entire movie...or even watching another movie.    

I can't help but think that Ga'Hoole is a cynical writer's malaprop of "Go to Hell."

Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole is a Waste of Time.

* I still remember the time some parent castigated me for hating Speed Racer.  The movie sucked...and it's a deeply cynical thing to show a child.  I'm unremorseful in my assessment.

Watchmen

"Turning Air to Gold:
The Transmutation of 'Watchmen' from Graphic Novel to Silver Screen"

After years of failed attempts by various studios and directors, Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' epic deconstruction of super-hero stereotypes in graphic-novel form has finally made it to the screen. Two studios financed it (with proceeds going to a third) and the director is Zack Snyder, who did an interesting re-make of "Dawn of the Dead," and the film adaptation of Frank Miller's "300." "300" was a somewhat mixed result due to the weakness of its source material, and Snyder's reliance on a bleached CG oppressiveness, but one could see him trying to find interesting ways to make Miller's panoramas and boxes translate to interesting moving images, if not a fully-realized film.

When one heard that his next project was to film the unfilmable "Watchmen," there was some cautionary hope: Moore's works "From Hell," "V for Vendetta," and "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" were not the movies they should have been, mostly due to liberties taken to Moore's blue-print (and as a result, Moore has refused any interest, personal or financial, from filmed adaptations of his writing—his lack of credit yawns like a big black hole in the film's credits).

His "Watchmen" is another animal—a sprawling 12 issue serial based on an alternate Earth where masked vigilantes do exist, it crossed eras and locations in a blink, played on nesting cultural references and on-the-nose word-play, while having the look and feel of a movie story-board. It looked like it should be filmed, even though its nudity, ultra-violence and political satire made it somewhat over the heads of the casual movie-goer and beyond the scope of the MPAA. Given Moore's history, the expectations were another bastardization, or, given Snyder's, a by-the-numbers adaptation with nothing new to offer.

The result, though, is neither extreme.

It's a faithful adaptation that doesn't mind sharing in the fun of creation.

"Structurally, There's No Difference"

Snyder and his scriptwriters David Hayter and Alex Tse have compressed the story, eliminating some second and third-tier characters (although they appear in the movie if you're looking for them), completely eliminating the parallel stories (in comic form) of "Tales of the Black Freighter" and the super-hero memoir "Under the Hood" (which will appear on a separate DVD, apparently) and concentrating on the main thread of the story: "Somebody is killing the Great Retired Superheroes of America."** It follows the investigation of never-realized super-group The Watchmen into who might be killing their members, starting with The Comedian, a government-sanctioned vigilante. All the Watchmen are vigilantes and, to some degree, fascists breaking arms and legs in brutal fist-fights that are, in the film, probably the best realized comics-fights yet filmed—like cage-matches in the open air. They all dress in the spandex kicking heads for different reasons and their very differences in attitude, sense of justice and heritage are what make the characters interesting, not the justice dispensed. There's action aplenty,*** but where Snyder has excelled and made the film his own is to take Moore's example and kick it up a notch. Moore's super-America of 1985 has Nixon still in the White House for an unprecedented sixth term, the Viet Nam War having been won by Watchmen incursion. But Snyder doesn't stop there. There are all sorts of cultural references spread throughout the film mixing History with heroes. TV, political and business personalities are recognizable from their Real World counter-parts. Moore piled on the culture references but Snyder takes advantage of the audio-visual tools he has to provide a great soundtrack of hits from a diverse group of Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkle, Leonard Cohen, and Phillip Glass. Compositions and dialog are taken from other movies to sometimes hilarious effect, and although one doesn't want to give away too many of Snyder's surprises, to not acknowledge them would be giving this film's own strengths short-shrift. It is its own animal—a fully functional moving picture that takes the strengths of the comics medium source, but builds on it and takes the viewer between the panels without a sense of filler or extraneous material.

"But my Eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light/
That split the night"

Just as Moore nested references throughout the series, Snyder takes visual cues and unites them throughout the film. Where Moore has his "Smiley Face" icon throughout (a device that seems a shade contrived in the film), Snyder's white-bright light flashes carry resonances throughout the film, especially in an ages spanning credit-sequence (which contains one of the best comics call-backs in the film). Those flashes will carry dramatic weight throughout the movie right up to the ending (which manages to logically improve on the novel's proposition-of course, that's how you solve "the problem," it's been staring us in the face all along).

But, you can have all the CG wizardry in many worlds if the organic part ofthings, the actors, don't breathe life into the characters, and here "Watchmen" excells. Patrick Wilson has spent too much time being the handsomely bland blonde guy that it's a welcome relief to see him stand out appreciably as Dan Dreiberg, The Nite-Owl. Matthew Goode as Ozymandias has a lazy, lithe, slurry quality that shows how used he is to being The Smartest Man in the Room, always. Jeffrey Dean Morgan has the hardest role as The Comedian, but makes it work, as Malin Akerman does for The Silk Specter. But the big raves go to to guys who spend most of the time hidden: Billy Crudup, who manages to make a character of Dr. Manhattan despite the fact that it's all CGI imagery (can you believe they wanted Schwarzenegger for the role?), and Jackie Earle Haley, who does wonders as Rorshach. The stand-out character of the series needed a superb performance and Haley, who's made few mis-steps since re-igniting his peculiar acting career slams it home. One hopes that his talent is acknowledged soon.

I was surprised and delighted by "Watchmen," the movie re-creating the same emotions I had reading the book all those years ago. But I wonder how much information one would get from the movie without having read the source. For me, there was recollected information bursting out of every frame, but to someone without the book in their banks those frames might seem over-crowded with useless knick-knacks...instead of pieces of the puzzle. Without that fore-knowledge, is the movie as compelling, or does one take a Manhattan-ish dis-interest?

"Watchmen" is a Full-Price Ticket (Hrn).

* There have been some review complaints of "slavish" adherence to the source material. Whole sections have been lifted, but it's only once in awhile when those sections encompass a lot of material (usually from a God's eye perspective). "Slavish adherence" is simply not true. Even if it was, when was that ever a movie sin? Nobody complained when "Lonesome Dove" stuck so close to Larry McMurtry's novel. Why is it an issue now? Nothing else to write about?

** "Watchmen" grew out of Alan Moore proposing a 12 issue series based on characters acquired by DC Comics when it bought the Charlton Comics line. DC wanted to use those characters in the regular comic-line, but wanted Moore's story, too. So, Moore created new heroes based on those characters: Captain Atom became Dr. Manhattan; Blue Beetle became Nite-Owl; The Question became Rorschach; Pete Cannon-Thunderbolt inspired Ozymandias; The Peacemaker became The Comedian; Nightshade became The Silk Specter.

*** "Watchmen" is a hard "R" for moments of sexuality, nudity and stomach-churning violence, for instance, characters are meat-cleavered in the head, one criminal has his hands tied to prison bars and his arms sawed off, not to mention the near-occasion of brutal fights—The Silk Specter breaks an arm so hard the bone pierces the skin — and a prison fight ends when a prisoner is dowsed with boiling oil. The movie begins with a bone-crunching fight between The Comedian and an unknown assassin, leading to his being thrown through a plate-glass window a couple dozen stories high. The movie's lone super-powered hero, Dr. Manhattan, explodes people with a wave of his hand. The show I went to, a couple brought their five year old son. He's gonna be in therapy for months.

300

"This won't be over quickly. You will not enjoy this"

Two characters say this in "300," but it might as well have been me when I walked into the theater. I'm not a fan of Frank Miller, the comic-book artist-turned-writer who breathed new life into Marvel's "Daredevil" and DC's "Batman." I enjoyed his work on those, but around the time of his "Sin City" output, I began to think of his work as campily overblown and corrupt. When he ran out of ideas, he'd have one of his characters cut off a limb and do something that defied the laws of physics and that would serve as plot advancement. So, upon seeing the extremely faithful adaptation of "Sin City" years ago, I just hung my head and thought that was the end of Miller doing anything good ever again. His hack-work was too successful. A second Batman "Dark Knight" series was a sporadically illustrated mess, and his current work on an "All-Star" version of the character has been embarrassing. His scripts for the "Robocop" series were terrible. His co-directorial debut with "Sin City" was a frame by frame recreation of his original illustrations, and in those, there was power, no matter how thick-headed the concept or eye-rolling the dialogue that accompanied them. It did point out, however, why films are one thing and graphic story-telling is another. Comics have the luxury of leaping from high-point to high-point. They suspend time to make way for mouthfuls of dialogue. They focus the eye and mind. Film does this, too, but at 24 frames a second, rather than the one comics afford. A film has to crash through that white border separating panels, and that's the difference between art and artifice.

Now, Miller's "300" has hit the screen, and unlike "Sin City," director Zack Snyder has taken the concept, the tone, and Miller's design sense but gone his own way with the direction. Key frames of Miller's book are reproduced, but for the most part Snyder has found a way of taking Miller's trope and making it move and breathing life into it. And it's Snyder's efforts to connect the dots and make Miller's flat-panels three dimensional that lets "300" rise above most comic book adapatations. It's still overblown. Some of the dialogue is not only bad, it's bad for today, much less ancient Greece (When King Leonidas meets his opposing King, the bling-encrusted Xerxes--who's not nearly as gay as Miller made him in the book--he takes a look at the Persian's elaborate transportation and says "Let me guess. You must be Xerxes"--a line more weisenheimer than kingly. But it beats the fade-out line on the eve of the final battle: "Unless I miss my guess, we're in for one wild night!" Oy. So bad it stings!), it's a bit too enamored by the CGI-technology to create blood-spurts, but damn, if it doesn't move and hold your interest! There's one shot--of King Leonidas providing point (literally) to an attack done in one long take, and as he dispatches opponent after opponent, at each impact the film is speed-ramped to a crawl, which is as ingenious a way of recreating the framing ability of comics in a moving picture as has been devised. Sort of like Peckinpah's slo-mo cut-aways but self-contained in a single shot.

So, what did I think of it? I enjoyed it! I may not like Miller's current writing, but one can't fault his illustrative sense, and Snyder brings it to glorious life. It may be gratuitous "homo-erotic war pornography," but it's sure well-constructed homo-erotic war pornography. It makes one anticipate Snyder's promised version of Alan Moore's "Watchmen," although one quails at the suggestion (and it's only been suggested) of Tom Cruise at Ozymandius. Not even a Spartan could face that!
"300" is a rip-snorting, shield-pounding, popcorn-throwing, CGI-scenery-chewing matinee.