No one does epic spectacle quite like Ridley Scott. The prolific director’s latest, Gladiator II, brings all the expected heart-stopping historical action to the big screen alongside a stellar cast at the top of their game. The highly anticipated sequel to his Best Picture-winning historical action-er stacks up some pretty impressive set pieces and introduces some compelling characters too, but it never quite reaches the heights of the original. It remains an impressive, colourful effort nonetheless and acts as the perfect cinematic canary in the coal mine for tyranny and mob rule.
The film picks up years after the death of revered hero Maximus (Russell Crowe – seen only in flashbacks) at the hands of corrupt Emperor Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix). Rome is now suffering under the hands of the tyrannical duo of Emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger), and its armed legions ably led by skilled warrior Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal). For his own safety, young Lucius has grown up far beyond the Empire’s reach in Numidia and has become a skilled fighter trained by the leaders of his adopted homeland. When his people are conquered by Acacius’s army, Lucius (Paul Mescal) is forced to channel his rage and fight for his life–and the future of the Roman people–in the Colosseum.
There are only two actors returning a quarter-century later: Connie Nielsen as Lucilla, daughter of Marcus Aurelius, mother to Lucius, and former lover of Maximus, and Sir Derek Jacobi as Senator Gracchus, loyal advisor to Lucilla and voice of sanity amid a sea of corrupt politicians. Nielsen isn’t given much more to do this time around–Gladiator‘s female characters continue to be two-dimensional, stereotypical plot points rather than fully-fledged individuals–while Jacobi adds his well honed and quiet elegance to the machinations of the senate in a small but pivotal role.
From start to finish, Gladiator II is filled with references to its predecessor. But if you remove them, is there enough for the sequel to stand on its own? Allusions to Marcus Aurelius’s dreams of equality and hope, quotes from Maximus about the importance of strength and honour, motifs from Hans Zimmer’s original intertwined with Harry Gregson-Williams’ new score, and full on flashbacks are ubiquitous throughout. But the constant callbacks have the unfortunate effect of forcing comparisons between the features, with the newer falling short in many but not all regards. The script, in particular, can’t quite replicate the emotional impact and epic grandeur of the first. David Scarpa gamely hands Lucius rallying cries to mimic those of Maximus, but they never quite land. “Where death is, we are not. Where we are, death is not” does not quite have the gravitas of “what we do in life, echoes in eternity”. In fact, Lucius is more the strong silent type and it’s not until the second half of the 180 minute run-time that Mescal gets his fair share of dialogue.
You’d be forgiven, too, if you don’t take much notice of the slightly lacklustre screenplay due to the skill of the actors themselves. Mescal is perfectly cast as the beating heart of the film. He broods and brawls with the best of them, conveying every emotional beat of a young warrior traumatized by both his past and present. Denzel Washington steals every scene as the gladiatorial impressario and power broker Macrimus, a former slave who aims to be the ultimate political puppeteer. His plotting and scheming at the expense of British character actors Tim McInnerey and Richard McCabe are a true pleasure to behold, as is every deliberate sweep of his ornamental robes. Pedro Pascal brings weariness and competence to his role as Marcus Acacius, a Roman general committed to the Empire but tired of the blood shed in its name. Like Washington, actor Joseph Quinn lets loose in a truly (and delightfully) unhinged performance as Geta, one half of the ruling duo. Each and every actor brings their A game, lifting the film in spots it might otherwise have faltered. There are some excellent moments of levity handled ably by the cast–shoutout to Caracalla’s simian companion for a handful of these–but the drama weighs so heavily on proceedings that they’re easy to miss or discount in the face of bigger and bloodier proceedings.
The battles both in and out of the arena are suitably impressive, far surpassing the original in creativity. Certainly worth the price of admission alone. And though you wouldn’t necessarily turn to Scott’s Gladiator saga for historical accuracy, the director does pull from the annals of the Empire for one of the craziest set pieces of the epic: a staged naval battle, known as a naumachia, in a water-filled Colosseum. It almost seems too crazy to be true, but the more bonkers the idea, it seems the more likely it actually happened. The addition of blood-thirsty sharks seems like pure Hollywood, but let’s let intrigued academics pursue the validity of that particular flourish. Scott also pushes the envelope on battlefield gore thoughout, though some of the combat wounds lean far more toward Python than Peckinpah. At the very least, there’s little doubt that almost every cent of a $300 million budget is there to behold on the screen.
By the time the climactic battle hits, at which point the film’s body count stands at a number impressive even for Scott, the outcome seems inevitable. But the final destination is hardly the point of a film like Gladiator II. It’s the grand journey that makes for the most entertainment, and in that regard, you cannot fault this rousing, well-acted sequel. For all its minor faults, it’s well worth the price of admission. And after last week’s U.S. election, it’s lessons of community, resistance, and strength in the face of tyranny, seem more valuable than ever.
Gladiator II hits theatres nationwide on November 22.
