GLADIATOR II has all the spectacle and pageantry (can you say cast of AI thousands?) of its predecessor, and certainly the same amount of gruesome deaths as only Ancient Rome could devise them, but it is a lesser thing story-wise. Not a bad film, but one that comes down firmly on the side of that ci-mentioned spectacle rather than substance. And, yes, in answer to the inevitable question, you are entertained.
We pick up 16 years later, with Lucius (Paul Mescal), the fugitive son of Lucilla (Connie Nielsen) and Maximus (Russel Crowe, not appearing in this film as such) living a peaceful, bucolic life tending his crops and livestock in Numidia when the Romans come calling, i.e. invading. Of course, the Numidians don’t stand a chance as General Acacius (Pedro Pascal) arrives by sea and in short order takes the town in the name of Rome, and makes a point of killing Lucius’ wife, Arishat (Yuval Gonen) in the process. He doesn’t know it’s Lucius’ wife, any more than he knows that the most rageful prisoner in his haul is Lucilla’s son, which makes him his stepson. By the usual twists of fate on which films such as these depend, Lucius finds himself competing as a gladiator, just like his father, and with the promise from his owner, the ambitious Macrinus (Denzel Washington) that one day he, Lucius, will be able to revenge himself on Acacius. Along the way, there are underwritten plots against the barely post-adolescent co-emperors, the decadent Geta (Joseph Quinn) and his brother, the decadent and insane Caracalla (Fred Hechinger); a testy mother and son reunion, and Ancient Rome continuing to fall under the weight of its decadent imperialism.
The plot provides such marvels as death by baboons, not one, but two naval battles (one real, one re-staged in the Coliseum with sharks), and a great deal of testosterone-fueled combat with some slick moves and some sneaky ones when it comes to dealing with a rhinoceros. Visually, GLADIATOR II delivers on every level.
Character-wise, it has some lovely moments, particularly Pascal as a war-weary soldier driven to fulfill the territorial dreams of his emperors. It’s a role that serves as the commentary on Rome’s demise, and Pascal does a fine job of balancing a sense of duty to an ideal against the reality of selfish children giving him orders that have nothing to do with the good of the state. When he is eventually singled out as an enemy of that state, the whiff of fascism has made itself known. Mescal, for his part, is stalwart and acquits himself well as a gladiator turned superstar of the arena, but it is Washington as the conniving social climber who dominates the screen with his trademark bombast. He is larger than life in a role that requires it, and he is worth whatever his paycheck was just for the way he delivers a succinct definition of politics as a blood sport and lingers sibilantly on the last letter of politics for an ebullient emphasis. Of note as well Quinn and Hechinger as the psychotic emperors in heavy eye makeup, effete togas, and a perfect condescending arrogance. We don’t need to see Caracalla doting on a monkey to excess to understand that these are little boys, despite their ages, and all the more dangerous because of it. Derek Jacobi appears in little more than an extended cameo, with nothing to allow us to understand why he is there. Nielsen exudes the strength and intelligence required for the daughter of Marcus Aurelius.
It’s all done on a grand scale, but the script feels badly edited as it gets us from Numidia to yet another general marching on Rome, and what Lucius is ultimately fighting for is hazy, particularly if you know anything about Roman history. No amount of extravagant art design can make up for a protagonist not having a goal, other than killing Acacius, that is, and not sticking to that as the action. Particularly when Acacius is such a sympathetic character, and the hate-fest is waged from afar. As for that design, I do not expect a Hollywood extravaganza to stick strictly to what is historically accurate. Do we really want to see what these people’s teeth looked like? No. Jut no. Plus, the prevalence of phallic-shaped jewelry, architectural ornaments, and general doodads with which Ancient Rome was littered would be distracting, for one, and though we do see the squalor in which much of Rome existed at that time, an accurate representation would nauseate rather than inform. Hence things like the Virgil quotation that proves to be a plot point is written in English. Kudos, though, for whomever it was that wrote the titillating graffiti by which Lucilla scurries on her way to a meeting of conspirators. The egregious decision here is having a character read what could be a broadsheet or a newspaper. Not only did it add nothing to the story, it didn’t happen and headlines (and slurs) were the province of graffiti. (N.B. there was paper back then, but no printing presses to produce broadsheets or newspapers in any meaningful quantity). And, no, there are no records of sharks in the Colosseum, but I can give that a pass because if the Ancient Romans could have figured out a way to get them there, they would have. These were people who built roads through mountains and aqueducts across valleys. Just saying.
For all the hints of mysticism in GLADIATOR II that may or may not be intended to provide a clue, one cannot help but come away from all this wondering what all the fuss was about. At least the other blockbuster out, WICKED, warns us that it is just part one. Perhaps Ridley Scott, after resurrecting GLADIATOR after all these years, is planning a multi-part saga. Word to Mr. Scott: more sharks, less newsprint.
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