Paul Verhoeven claims that his “Starship Troopers” was a $100 million art-house film. Can Wolfgang Peterson say the same of his perplexing “Troy?” It has a reported $200 million budget and an impressive cast, although nothing near that dynamic one-two punch of Denise Richards and Casper Van Dien in “Troopers.”

I still can’t understand why all this money went into a movie that totally ignores Hollywood conventions. There’s no hero, and no antihero — only Brad Pitt, Missouri’s proudest son, glistening with sweat, blood and dirt as Achilles. The Trojans and the Greeks receive equal screen time, but neither side is really favored — indeed, it seems we should side with the Trojans until that Trojan Horse fiasco when they are slaughtered unceremoniously and Troy is burned by the Greeks. “Troy” refuses to sentimentalize on this ending, however; for some ungodly reason, it is content to lament the death of Achilles.

I can’t wrap my head around “Troy’s” apathy toward its characters and countries. This is present in all the would-be climactic battle scenes — the arrival of the 1000 ships, the repeated showdowns between the armies — which are instead vapid exercises in swooping cameras and boring violence.

The fascination with Achilles is the key to the film. As a Missourian myself, I’ve always fancied myself a sort of distant cousin of Brad Pitt; and, ever since I heard Led Zeppelin’s most awesomest song ever, “Achilles Last Stand,” I’ve also fancied myself an Achilles Lite. It should also be noted I have a birthmark on my heel.

In any case, Pitt’s Achilles isn’t an action hero. He is, instead, nothing more than a popular athlete. The first scene of the film shows him killing an enormous, WWE-type beast using what becomes his patented move — a jump attack straight out of a Playstation game, with his knees bent and body posed like an Olympic athlete. I half-expected the rest of the Greeks to wear Nike, Goddess of Victory-endorsed Achilles chestplates with a trademarked Achilles silhouette.

Achilles wants immortality, not fame: he wants to be remembered more than revered. He has no allegiances: He is abusive, impulsive, angry and confused. He’s an ancient version of Muhammad Ali — a superior athlete with a devil-may-care attitude and a deadly craving to be a legend.

And the No. 1 sport in “Troy” is killing. Epic clashes are as routine as fourth-and-goal situations, Achilles’ violent tears are followed by a refreshing splash of water, and the film’s best sequence — a dual between Achilles and Eric Bana’s Hector — is simply a welterweight championship match. Achilles also coaches the other men how to fight; Agamemnon (Brian Cox) even says, “War is a game.” The lack of urgency in “Troy” seems to emanate from the film’s posture of war as sport, not as an artistic statement.

The violence is interesting. For such an expensive film, “Troy” carries an R-rating for violence — yet there’s no pressing need for it! There’s none of the graphic brutality of recent war films. It’s like we’re watching two teams play in a Saturday doubleheader.

Petersen seems concerned with the motion and spectacle of mass fights, not the political implications of their violence or even their results. Agamemnon is ultimately George Steinbrenner, amassing an expansive army to rule the land. The result? Male viewers find the film’s violence to be unsatisfying and dull, like watching the Yankees.

“Troy” also is misogynistic, especially in the case of Helen. Women are the film’s catalysts, but they only cry and whimper. For all the big-name men in the film, you’d think Petersen could have splurged and gotten a better Helen than Diane Kruger.

Despite these flaws, I’m finding myself rooting for “Troy”, the most interesting $200 million Hollywood has spent. 

Communication sophomore Kyle Smith is film editor for PLAY. He can be reached at [email protected].