Last week Mr. Wonderful called home all aflutter. He had been given tickets to the DC premier of 300.
“Yuck”, I told him, “You must have meant to call your other wife.”
“Fine. Let me talk to the boy. He’ll want to go with me.”
I picked them up from the metro after the event. Don’t read anymore if you object to spoilers.
“How was it?” I asked my son as he climbed into the car.
“Ug.” My Son made slicing motions and sounds. “By the time the fifth decapitated head went flying in slow motion, I was bored. You should have seen the girl in the row in front of us. She was curled up all fetal position having the worst date ever. I thought she was gonna be sick.”
“That might have had something to do with the fact that she ate nachos and a cinnabon,” Mr. Wonderful mused. It made me giggle.
“Nah, it was the movie,” my Son assured us.
A few days later 300 was reviewed by the Washington Post. It made me laugh so much that I am going to quote verbatim.
Go tell the Spartans that their sacrifice was not made in vain; their long day’s fight under the cooling shade of a million falling arrows safeguarded the West and guaranteed, all these years later, the right of idiots to make rotten movies about them.
…we get a Spartan culture that seems notable primarily for one thing: the invention of the ab machine. You never saw so many six-packs in one place outside of a Budweiser warehouse.
…Leonidas (Spartan King) as a stud among studs (he looks like he has a seven pack!) He bellows and struts and declaims – and he looks good in spandex and velvet.
…the Persians represent effeminate decadence. …there is an androgynous quality to all of them, as if their secret mission is to blur the sexes and turn the Spartan studs into women. ….it would probably bring a smile to Ann Coulter’s lips.
As for the masculine Spartans, they could be NFL wide receivers. But….oh, endless, fascinating coils of life! – they’re also kinda gay. The movie has an unmistakable homoerotic undercurrent, ripe as the smell of sweat in a locker room.
Mr. Wonderful and I were in hysterics by the time we had finished reading the review. “Was it really that bad?” I asked him.
“Yeah, and kinda like a video game. 300 Spartans against 100 guys with whips, 295 against 1000 guys with axes. It went on forever and it was really hot in the theatre. You would have hated every minute.” Mr. Wonderful knows me really well.
So it was with great joy that I read this morning that 300 cleaned up at the box office. I have a lot of Time-Warner stock.