300: Rise of an Empire

Overview

The original 300 was a divisive film; a pantomime of hyper violence and fascist doctrine with as much historical accuracy as a university freshman piecing together his O-Week. Still, it was also wildly entertaining and, visually, one of the first to follow in the wake of the Sin City graphic novel framing and design mould.

Fast forward seven years and we're presented with the somewhat unexpected sequel; unexpected because 99.3 percent of all characters in the first film were killed off, and not in any sort of ambiguous 'daytime soap, did he really drown?' kind of way. It was more beheadings, dissections and Spartans skewered on spears like 6'2 devils on horseback.

Instead, Israeli director Noam Murro's sequel is, much like The Bourne Legacy, a concurrent tale with the focus on the Athenian response to the same Persian threat that felled the infamous 300. Leading the Greek defence is Themistocles (played by Aussie actor Sullivan Stapleton), a war hero and politician whose actions during the Battle of Marathon both earned him fame and set in motion the eventual Persian invasion by the demigod Xerxes and his naval commander, Artemisia (Eva Green).

Green is the standout in 300: Rise of an Empire. Adorned in a series of full-length gothic gowns-come-battle armour, her fearsome stare and contemptuous smirk command the focus in every scene she inhabits, to say nothing of that sumptuous Franco-British accent that makes a word like 'sword' an aural blanket in which to wrap yourself. With a backstory so bleak you scarcely judge her for tearing off a man's head and then kissing him, Green's Artemisia out-menaces Xerxes entirely, rendering the gold-painted God a mere passenger sporting an (at best) conservative Mardi Gras outfit.

Stylistically, the film faithfully adheres to Zack Snyder's original monochromatic approach, and employs so much slow-motion that without it, 300: Rise of an Empire would just be a four-and-a-half minute ab workout video. Every flesh-tearing strike is luxuriated in with three-dimensional, Dolby-enhanced ecstasy, an orgiastic fountain of blood sprayed across the battleground as though each combatant were a warrior Pro Hart festooning his rug.

The action's so video-gamey at times, you feel yourself ghost-thumbing 'Up Up Down Up Y' just to help the hero navigate the chaos, and yet the whole affair remains an entrancing visual style that should more than satisfy the fans of the original.