300

Last Thursday I managed to secure a seat in the country's largest cinema screen, the London IMAX, to enjoy the much hyped 300. To be perfectly honest I had been anticipating this cinematic event for nearly 3 months; ever since I caught a glimpse of its revolutionary style in the trailer. The buzz had been ringing over 300 for weeks. It smashed records for a March opening in the states and critics' wimpers of too much violence, all style and no substance had absolutely no dampening effect on my enthusiasm. In fact, not since the Matrix had I felt the overwhelming necessity to see it before everyone else. I was expecting my socks to be knocked off.

So to the IMAX. Everything about the Imax speaks volumes. It is on a scale that dwarfs all other forms of exhibition. As one enters the theatre, the screen unfolds in front of you. Its omnipresence is overwhelming. I couldn't contain my excitement. Each screening is preceded by an introduction into the sound and visual capabilities of what the IMAX experience is all about. A light shines behind the screen revealing a wall of speakers. At first you think it is a neat little trick; a projected image so life like. But it's real.

The screen has millions of tiny holes in it to allow the huge wall of sound to travel through shaking your molecular structure so you feel every audible element. One speaker begins playing a soft drum beat before being joined by another. Before long speakers in every corner are playing layered tones and beats immersing you in a euphony of surround sound bliss.

They say that modern home entertainment systems rival most cinemas, but not the IMAX. It is in its own league. A screen ten times the size of a normal cinema screen completely dominates your peripheral vision. No matter where you look, it is impossible to avoid. This was heaven, and the film hadn't technically started.

So to 300. Epic. Stylish. Beautiful. The grandeur of 300 was firmly established that night and I will remember it as one of the finest cinematic experiences of my life. The battle scenes are most impressive, using a technique of combining slow motion with sped up moments in between.

In slow motion a Spartan warrior thrusts his shield into an enemy sending him sprawling to the floor, then in fast motion we see the Spartan spin around carried by his momentum before the action is again slowed down for the final thrust of his spear into the fallen man's chest. This action is then repeated as the spartans clear their way through the enemy ranks. I never thought battle scenes could be made so majestic and balletic, although still incredibly brutal.

Critics have been bemoaning an apparent lack of story. They seem to have misunderstood that 300 is foremost a comic book adaption. In this manner the script, the gross misconceptions of reality, cheesy dialogue, strange weird disfigured creations of a highly imaginative mind, are wholly befitting and serve the purpose of the film perfectly. Zack Snyder used Frank Miller's orginal novel as a storyboard guide to much of the films stylish look. It doesn't disappoint.

Admittedly, being a 22 year old male student and perfect cannon fodder for such testosterone fuelled violence, it would have been difficult for me to have left feeling dissappointed and underwhelmed. However, I have been known to set my expectations very high only to see them dashed. I was therefore thrilled to finish 300 in awe and in need of a second viewing. My only problem is that now anything short of IMAX quality is distinctly lacking. The bar has been set.