Errm.. so the Persians dig Boy George?

The movie was watched yesterday amidst great suspended animation. Yes, very Frank Miller-esque. Yes, very stunning. Yet.. umm.. disappointing at some level. Which is admittedly a callous remark, considering it was everything that the Nine Inch Nails soundtracked promos had promised. Unfortunately though, it just seemed that. A long cutscene from some war-game.

Great battles are not (only) made from dozens of six pacs against green screens, they need a lil more than a Spartan helmet being razed down by a rain of arrows to kick them into a league of greatness. When a hero falls, there is a certain pathos that lingers in the room. There is still a ghost in the room everytime Maximus Decimus Meridius falls.

When a few hundreds look into a sea of a million gory faced monsters, you smell grandeur. You call for their blood. You cheer the warcries. Certain scenes are written on a plane of genius, say Helm's Deep or Minas Tirith from LOTR. To capture this imagination on screen is a work of art as well. To compare Tolkien to Miller, or Peter Jackson to Zack Snyder is neither accurate nor fair. But this is pop culture we are talking about, and there is always room for a lil good old fashioned lit art between all the Trent Reznor's. It's a bit of Warhol cinema, we are being treated to recently.

But I think this one missed it's draw.