A Pilgrim’s Digression

A two hour recruitment advertisement for the Marine Corps.

I have probably said enough about the film 300 in that one sentence. The reader can then make a judgement about whether my review is favorable or unfavorable, depending on one’s feelings towards the Marines.

I use the Marines comparison because the film depicts an elite corps of warriors, the ancient Spartans, fighting to a glorious death in the battle of Thermopylae. The title, 300, refers to the number of Spartans King Leonidas led against the thousands of Persians who tried to conquer Greece in the fifth century B.C. Its glorification of the all or nothing, black or white, “with us or against us” military mindset will be either a recommendation or a disqualification for some. My own impression is somewhat ambivalent, since I am powerfully attracted to this kind of movie, but wary of the dangers of propaganda.

My first notice of this film occurred last week when a group of students from a local military college, having just seen the film, came into the coffee shop where I was sitting and began raving about it. It occurred to me then that I was going to like this film; it also occurred to me that might be a dangerous thing. It is impossible to watch this film and not draw comparisons between the ancient threat of Persian domination and the modern threat of Muslim terrorists. Already having become satisfied with my conclusion that the current war on terrorism is over-hyped, I did not appreciate a reminder that the stakes may be higher than I am figuring.

But, returning to the film, it is a visually stunning movie, much like another movie based on a Frank Miller graphic novel, Sin City. The sensory overload of CGI and gory carnage has irritated some reviewers, but this is a film that is guaranteed to irritate most reviewers anyway.

Ideologically, in our present age, one can expect controversy from a movie that depicts a group of 300 stalwart, testosterone-infused, half-naked Greek warriors fighting off a horde of barbaric and depraved Persians. Iran has banned the movie because the Persians are depicted as sexual deviants and monsters. And it is no wonder that the film has been almost universally panned by liberal reviewers in the United States. The film presents a too-stark contrast between the current east and west conflict.

King Leonidas and his queen use the word “freedom” so often, I occasionally thought I was viewing some sort of weird remake of Braveheart. And the battle of Thermopylae is indeed depicted as a kind of Braveheart-esque stand for freedom and democracy against the unstoppable tide of slavery and dictatorship represented by the Persians. From the very beginning, when King Leonidas looks to his wife and queen for advice regarding an important decision before him, we get a sense that the writer and director are making a statement about the difference and superiority of western culture, as opposed to eastern culture.  In the scene in question, Persian diplomats have arrived in Sparta to offer humiliating peace terms. Should Leonidas consider the terms, or slughter the messengers? His wife advises slaughter, and one has the sense that she is a woman after Leonidas’s own heart.

However, considering that Spartan women did achieve a measure of freedom unknown elsewhere in the western world, it is not unrealistic to depict Leonidas’s queen as his equal in judgement and bloodthirstiness. Even in Sparta’s rival city of Athens, women were so little regarded that boys were considered preferable sexual partners. But in Sparta, women were educated and expected to participate in the social and political life of the community. When the Persian messenger asks Leonidas, referring to his queen, “What makes this woman think she can speak among men?” Leonidas’s answer is appropriate for a Spartan: “Because only Spartan women give birth to real men.”

The film is brimming with great quotes such as that, some of them taken directly from Petrarch and Herodotus. When the Persian King Xerxes, depicted as a sort of androgynous giant, says that the Persian arrows will blot out the sun, Leonidas replies, “Then we will fight in the shade.” Someone who is currently in the military, or is sympathetic to the military mindset, will lap this stuff up like mother’s milk.

As I said at the beginning, visually the film is stunning, but reminiscent of a military recruiting advertisement. There is a scene at the beginning in which a naked, young Leonidas fights a wolf somewhere in a craggy, cold, snowy mountain pass. With an omniscient voice-over in the background describing the scene, it reminded me of those TV advertisements for the Marine Corps in which comparison is made between ancient warriors and modern Marines.

I spoke earlier of the dangers of a movie such as this. Here I would reference my experience with another epic already mentioned: Braveheart. I thought Gibson’s film one of the best ever made, back in 1995 when I first saw it. My passion for Braveheart has cooled, somewhat, largely because of what I now know about the director himself. But I also concede that the film was pretty awful, when it comes right down to it. Wallace’s final cry of “Freedom!” is more likely to result in a giggle than a chill up the spine or a tear, these days.

Similarly, I can see the grandiosity of 300 wearing thin with age, as well. The danger of an ideologically driven film is that it has limited impact beyond its era. Its meaning is entirely tied up in the conflicts and context of our age. Future generations may look upon it as an overwrought B-movie, with lots of Greek beefcake to offset the effeminate homo- and trans-sexual decadence of the Persians.

But right now, my judgement is the movie is worth seeing for exactly those reasons and more. Occasionally, I love a monstrously overwrought epic, a film that overwhelms the senses with sex and decadence and violence, in which the good guys are unfailingly strong and good, and the bad guys, though great in number, are weak and sexually confused. Leonidas never has a moment of doubt. He just does what he knows to be right, leading his 300 men into the Hot Gates where they will die. Even when a little weakness might have saved them, he does not un-stiffen his spine. He could have saved them all by a simple act of kindness to a cripple who wants to join his army; instead, he sends the infirm man away as inadequate, resulting in the reject betraying the Spartans to the Persians.

The end result of his stubbornness is glory that has echoed down through history to stir present minds and souls to an acknowledgement that sometimes, staying the course can be a profound act of courage resulting in victory disguised as defeat. Would that it worked out so well for our current Leonidas.

However, as I reminded my wife after the film was over (she liked it to, a remarkable fact, given that she is female), the Athenians were great warriors, too, without the Spartan’s willingness to die for lost causes. And it is from the Athenians, not the Spartans, that much of what we know as ancient Greek culture, philosophy, and art is descended.

My own favorite philosopher, Socrates, was a superb soldier in the Athenian army, serving bravely in the battles of Potidea and Delium during the Peloponnesian War. Thus even among the “boy lovers,” as Leonidas derisively calls the Athenians, faithful and true soldiers could arise.

However, when trapped between the Hot Gates and the sea, I’d still probably prefer a phalanx of Spartans around me, or a company of United States Marines.