Now here's a question. At what point does grunting, blood-spattered hyper-masculinity become totally homoerotic? Somewhere around 300, methinks.
And if you think the above must be a cruel travesty of Frank Miller’s rather striking graphic novel, well, think again. Update: Via the comments, readers are welcome to suggest other films in which over-revved masculinity has veered unintentionally into homoerotica or teetered on the brink of camp.