300: Rise of an Empire (2014)

Not a sequel, not a prequel, more likely a tax write-off, “300: Rise of an Empire” plays like a long-ass chunk of deleted scenes from 2006’s “300,” from director Zack Snyder and Comic Book God Frank Miller. Shot in studio with buff-ass actors against green screens in an endless orgy of deft Greek violence, guts, blood, and machismo, “300” fuckin’ rocked, killing every snob film instinct I hold. Sick, depraved, baseless fun. This thing, seven years late and directed by some shit I cannot Google, plays like a junior high school knock off. I grow tired rehashing it. Eva Green (“Casino Royale”) is the conquering bad ass b*tch coming to fuck over Greece, and hero Sullivan Stapleton, whose name sounds like a law firm but he is actually an actor playing hero Themistocles, vows to stop her. Blood flies. Tons of it. Gobs of it. Gallons. This is a film seemingly made by adults that vibes like it was dreamed by my war-obsessed 12-year-old nephew who has not a clue what war and violence entails. Except he’s smarter than this lot and can call bullshit. This is bullshit. D-