Why Don't More Chicks Like 300?

My capsule review of the 300 experience, given over the phone to my like-minded confidant Gus, began like this:

"Sandy hated it. All this fighting and no story, she says."

I won't bore you with the middle of the conversation that followed, and instead I'll just skip to the important part, our agreed-upon conclusion:

Sometimes, a movie with 300 oiled up dudes impaling several thousand other dudes with costumes and piercings is just that--a movie about impaling people. But, much like the mythos of children being the only ones who can see through the Devil's disguise, so too can ladies see beyond 300's flimsy metaphor: it's totally about butt-sex.

Only one female character of any consequence (and even she gets a little rough trade out of it). All the fussy little strategies to get guys in a vulnerable position. There's even an evil drag queen. Throw in a writer with a little misogyny pinned to his reputation, and you've got a recipe to Drive Straight Women To Watch Music And Lyrics Again.

I can't believe Frank Miller fooled us again, so soon after his unsavory (and still in progress) All-Star Batman and Robin, His Boy Lover... er, Boy Wonder.