300

This movie sucked. Hard. At the same time, it was kind of awesome. Some movies are mixed - one moment you love them, the next you hate them. This one was different. I found it both exciting and hateful, hilarious and awful simultaneously throughout. By the end of the 240th minute, I was half expecting Russell Crowe to stomp out from behind the screen and yell at the top of his lungs, "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!" The answer is yes. Yes I was.

This makes me nervous, largely because of the company in which I think this puts me. I can't help but feel like Hitler would also have enjoyed the hell out of this movie for at least three reasons:
(1). It's a barrage of images of spurting blood and ultraviolence held togther by the barest thred of narrative, showing the pyrrhic victory of a bunch of patriotic, young, oiled-up white men with hats and thongs over the forces of non-whiteness and gaydom (i.e., Persia).
(2). The Spartans could even have won, if not for the traitorous conduct of a hunchbacked reject Spartan who sold them out to the Persians - proving that his inner, moral deformity matched his outward disfigurement. He couldn't lift a shield high enough to fight for the mother race! How could he expect to join the phalanx?
(3). The villain inside Sparta sold his country out for money and had secret designs on the sexual purity of the queen. And wasn't his nose just a little bit hooked...?

So go ahead, see 300. Like it, if you want. You just keep in mind it might make you a race-baiting anti-Semite. And you're guilty of the Holocaust.