Gone are the days of long form poetry, and even more recently gone are the days of storytelling over a campfire. Film and television are what our generations hope to translate our greatest stories with. What happens when film tries to capture the vague and powerful visions of the imagination when tall tales of greater than life battles are told?

300.

I was expecting a visual feast when I went to see 300, but I didn’t expect the film to actually be good. For all of its “mindless” brutality and lucid color pallet, it actually accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do: it is an epic poem in film form.

Sure, the plot is simple, sure the characters are clichéd. But this is Greek folk lore here; this isn’t some deep introspective piece, it’s a story to inspire courage and bravery. It accomplishes all that perfectly. I have never seen a film that sets out to show you something so core and elementally basic in its nature and accomplish it so well. It never falters or wavers in its might or pace, and it’s constantly swimming in testosterone. All the while it is epic and larger than life.

Visually it encompasses the color range from gold to bronze with a good bit or red for safe measure. It flows like a ballet or opera at all times with a pace and force unmatched by anything I’ve seen in a long time. To say or feel that this was anything less than an amazing film would be a lie to myself and others.