TONIGHT! WE DINE! AT DENNY'S!!!!
Mar. 6th, 2007 11:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thehefner300 turned out to be everything I'd expected it to be, everything it could possibly have been. Which is to say, the living embodiment of Frank Miller'd Id, a completely over-the-top spectacle of awesomeness utterly devoid of subtlety, and one of the manliest fucking manly things to ever man a man. All that was missing was whoreswhoreswhoreswhoreswhores, but that was all replaced by shouting.
Oh lord, the shouting. I mean, in the comic, when Leonidas kicks the messenger (who was shouting, "This is blasphemy! This is madness!") into the pit, he does it with a cool, badass "This is Sparta." But as I'd seen in even the earliest trailers, he delivered it instead with the now-almost-infamous, "THIS! IS! SPARTARARARARAHHH!!!"
It's been three hours since I've seen the film, and I still feel like shouting everything. "I! WANT! NACHOOOOOS!" "A thousand tortilla chips of the Persian Empire descends upon my tummy! This queso shall blot out the sun!!!" "Then *I* shall munch in the shade." "I! NEED! A! NAPKINNNN!!!"
That said, there's plenty for women to enjoy. Namely, lots and lots of ripped man-flesh on display. Wow. I mean... wow, there was nothing less than a six pack on pretty much every guy in that film.
I'm not saying 300 is a brilliant film, and it didn't hit me on a pure visceral personal comic geek level like SIN CITY did, but it's great that a comic-based movie (especially one that is very much flaunting its graphic novel roots) is getting this much attention. Things like this are, I think, better for the industry than even the best superhero movies, and I certainly do hope it brings in more customers.
My only complaint is that no one got any arrows in either the head or their crotch. I suppose some might think that would detract from the moment to see arrows through the eyes and/or balls, but it kinda annoyed me to see people as human pincushions save for miraculously those two areas. But that's my only real complaint. The rest of the movie is... well, it's what it is, and gloriously so, in its way.
With apologies to Dethklok and Denis Leary, if I see this film again, it will have to be with a hundred beers and a big, fat steak. Raw steak, dripping with blood. In fact, forget the steak, give me a live cow. I'll cut off what I want and ride the rest home!
Home! TO SPARTARAHARARAHHH!!!!
Oh lord, the shouting. I mean, in the comic, when Leonidas kicks the messenger (who was shouting, "This is blasphemy! This is madness!") into the pit, he does it with a cool, badass "This is Sparta." But as I'd seen in even the earliest trailers, he delivered it instead with the now-almost-infamous, "THIS! IS! SPARTARARARARAHHH!!!"
It's been three hours since I've seen the film, and I still feel like shouting everything. "I! WANT! NACHOOOOOS!" "A thousand tortilla chips of the Persian Empire descends upon my tummy! This queso shall blot out the sun!!!" "Then *I* shall munch in the shade." "I! NEED! A! NAPKINNNN!!!"
That said, there's plenty for women to enjoy. Namely, lots and lots of ripped man-flesh on display. Wow. I mean... wow, there was nothing less than a six pack on pretty much every guy in that film.
I'm not saying 300 is a brilliant film, and it didn't hit me on a pure visceral personal comic geek level like SIN CITY did, but it's great that a comic-based movie (especially one that is very much flaunting its graphic novel roots) is getting this much attention. Things like this are, I think, better for the industry than even the best superhero movies, and I certainly do hope it brings in more customers.
My only complaint is that no one got any arrows in either the head or their crotch. I suppose some might think that would detract from the moment to see arrows through the eyes and/or balls, but it kinda annoyed me to see people as human pincushions save for miraculously those two areas. But that's my only real complaint. The rest of the movie is... well, it's what it is, and gloriously so, in its way.
With apologies to Dethklok and Denis Leary, if I see this film again, it will have to be with a hundred beers and a big, fat steak. Raw steak, dripping with blood. In fact, forget the steak, give me a live cow. I'll cut off what I want and ride the rest home!
Home! TO SPARTARAHARARAHHH!!!!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 07:57 am (UTC)I decided to take a look at your blog and came across this. Clearly you've stolen a portion of my brain, because that's exactly what I thought.
The eyes didn't bug me too much but this being a extra 'manly' Frank Miller movie and the lack of punctured ball caused me to giggle hysterically. Much to the chagrin of my enraptured brothers.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 05:18 pm (UTC)Oh yeah, giggling hysterically is the way to handle that movie. I don't know if I'd trust anybody who watches 300 without at least some irony.