300

It lives, a comic book lives. Frank Miller’s laudable essence capturing novel on paper with colours splashed on the screen by Zack Snyder directions, the 117 minutes is a carefully grafted piece of art.

The mythological story revolves around 300 warriors against an army of zillions but with a lot more exaggerations that you would be tempted to believe. With a dab of a paint brush, scenes are articulated with the right level of hues. A bit of amber and a bit of Navajo white, spread across an askew easel on a peach canvas. The colours may be a bit dull, but I find the rainbow unimaginative. You do not as much anticipate as to what would happen next inasmuch you would turn a page. Every scene is worth a thousand words, every speech is grand, every fight is bloody worthwhile, the love is true, the honour is compassionate, the evil is dark, even the six-pack abs keep you glued and wondering, the history is compelling, the myth may be a myth, the story may be surreal and you would end it with the glory itself.

The movie maybe marmite. You either like it or you don’t. I should not describe the movie as my thoughts are not as nouveau niche as to what I had witnessed. If you are planning to skip the theatre and wait for the DVD, I suggest you start smoking and wait for cancer instead. For all those who would appreciate the hard work involved in the movie, value it for all the right reasons. If you walk out stating that the decapitations were “cool” and “awesome”, or dawdle on the political message of the movie (It’s based on a comic book for God sake), I would be waiting out with Spartan spears ready to pierce your heart and soul.