The Politics of Frank Miller

300 is the spiritual sequel to The Matrix from all indications. I say spiritual because, really, they have nothing to do with each other, obviously being very different films, with different stories, basic philosophies, and characters.

What is similar is the pop culture impact both appear to have had. Just as Wachowski brothers' first (and so far, only) truly significant opus pretty much stuck to the collective consciousness, so did Zack Snyder's adaptation of Frank Miller's graphic novel based loosely on some historical battle leave a rather lasting impression on moviegoers from all walks of life. What, to me, makes 300 that much more remarkable an achievement is the fact that the characters in The Matrix walked around in black leather and blew away people with impunity, the first of which is something young people love to do and the second of which is something they would love to do, so it already had a leg up with viewers (especially the sickos who went on the Columbine massacres shortly thereafter). While I'm sure a lot of viewers would love to be able to dismember people they hate with a passion, I can't imagine they would embrace the idea of walking around in leather thongs while doing so.

It only just recently struck me how similar they were, though, when I read a scathingly bad review of 300 on someone else's blog, in which the film was described as fascist, racist and homophobic. Oddly, as much as I had enjoyed the film for its gripping visuals (and little else), I could not really argue his points. All I could think was how I liked it because it looked cool, choosing to ignore any of its political overtones, intended or otherwise.

I found myself whisked back to early 1999, when The Matrix was leaving its initial impression on audiences here. I had seen it for either the third or fourth time with my then-girlfriend who, shortly after the screening, posed the question for me: "What was so great about that shoot-out in the building's lobby?" to which I could not pose any real answer, when she hit me with yet another question (or maybe it was the same question, I forget. We've been out of touch for a while now, so I can't exactly ask her): "If those guys weren't agents, then weren't they basically killing actual people?"

She totally had a point; taking away how "kewl" the whole sequence came across with its slow-motion photography, wirework and rave music soundtrack, it was basically an act of mass murder as Neo and Trinity slaughtered a bunch of human guards, all of whom were presumably hooked up to the matrix as they had once been. They hadn't killed the evil agents or computer programs (which was something clarified in the second installment as the Merovingian's goons were more categorically described as computer programs and therefore more expendable) but human beings. Unfortunately, just as I was able to gloss this little fact over ("they had to kill them or be killed" I finally managed to say, rather lamely), so did many other filmgoers, possibly including the perpetrators of the Columbine massacre.

300, I think is similar in that many viewers like myself were willing to overlook a number of its shortcomings (like how it fudged history, and how terrible the dialog was in many instances) in favor of its visuals. In that it is truly remarkable, but now that one realizes that Miller's politics, while he is certainly free to adopt them, really are rather abhorrent, whatever his avowed persuasion, one worries about how other viewers might have been indoctrinated.

Most notably, Miller's statements on the invasion of Iraq has revealed that he is essentially one of George W. Bush's staunchest allies in this endeavor. When interpellated on his stand on the matter he attempted and failed to liken the American invasion of Iraq to its having joined World War II upon being bombed by Pearl Harbor. He also went on to talk about what barbarians people are in the middle east, unwittingly exposing himself for the utter bigot that he is. I didn't know there were people who still embodied the White Man's Burden anymore, but apparently Miller still bears it quite proudly.

300, fortunately, was written before Bush even stole the 2000 U.S. Presidential Elections, so may arguably be free from the taint of an analogy, but clearly Miller's belief system was already in place.

Furthermore, it seems that Miller and DC have plans to release a Batman graphic novel called Batman vs. Al Qaeda. Miller actually compares this effort to the comics of the 40s which had Captain America punching out Hitler. Oh, for God's sake. Note to Paul Levitz: it's one thing to edit a cowardly George W. Bush out of the pages of The Authority, and another to feature U.S. Army recruitment ads in every other issue of DC Comics on the stands today, but by doing this you are practically screaming on behalf of America's oldest purveyor of superhero comics "we're Republicans and proud of it!" Your liberal fanbase may cringe in shame, and considering they've dwindled as of late, and especially considering that America's "War of Terror" is rapidly losing popularity, that may not be a good thing.

Happily for me, I am joined in my disdain for Miller's attempt to superimpose his politics onto his comics by highly respected DC comic book writer Grant Morrison, who basically exhorted Miller to give up his 'graphic novel nonsense' and basically join the army where he could really 'fight' Al Qaeda.

Viewed in the context of how Miller thinks, 300 becomes a lot less enjoyable, so my advice to anyone who watches it is pretty much to leave your brain at the door. 300 is not Braveheart nor anything meant to inspire people to acts of valor, and it certainly shouldn't be superimposed on any political situation prevailing today. It's a slick, visually-supercharged comic-book adaptation and should be appreciated on those terms, not in terms of its or its principal creator's politics, because that will probably just leave a bad taste in the mouth.