‘Gladiator’ was a roar. ‘Gladiator II’ is an echo.

Author’s Note: The following contains spoilers for the events of Gladiator. So if you haven’t seen that film, stop reading, and go watch it. What characters do in that film echoes in eternity.

I don’t remember the exact day, but I remember the exact circumstance of the first time I watched Ridley Scott’s Gladiator. It was one of only two films I saw in the theater during my brief and miserable period living in Las Vegas, a time when it felt like my path forward had taken a horrible twist from which it may never return. Sitting in the theater, lost in the film’s potent mixture of grandeur and savagery, was perhaps the first time in my life that I knew without critical reviews or word of mouth or legacy that I was watching something truly great. Maximus’s journey from general to slave to gladiator to hero felt more inspirational than the dozens of saccharine inspired-by-true-events or finding-what’s-really-important movies that run endlessly on cable television during the Christmas season and in high school classrooms when the teacher doesn’t want to plan lessons. Russell Crowe’s charisma, his contemplative demeanor with bursts of intensity, so informed the type of person I wanted to be that I copied his training regiment (or what I thought was his training regiment) and shaved my sparse, young adult beard to mimic his. Even years later, during another down period of my life, I fought the urge to end every poetry performance by throwing my arms out and yelling, “Are you not entertained?” (I eventually gave in and wrote those words into a piece. It was quite satisfying). To this day, the film remains my go-to viewing when I feel overwhelmed or lost and need to find myself again. It’s the movie I watch when it feels as though I have become an echo of myself. As a throwback to the forgotten sword-and-sandal epics of the 1950’s, Gladiator was a film that no one wanted, but the world needed.

Like the original, Gladiator II begins with stylized text over a black screen explaining that it has been sixteen years since the death of Marcus Aurelius (as seen in Gladiator) and since then the promise of democracy has been hijacked by the twin emperors Geta and Caracalla who have unleashed unprecedented corruption leaving very few people who still “believe in the dream of Rome.” Sadly, this opening scrawl also introduces the main problem of Gladiator II. By tying itself so tightly to the previous film, it can’t help but remain in Gladiator’s shadow.

Before moving on we need to make a few things clear right now:
First, Gladiator II is a good movie, especially if you haven’t seen Gladiator.
Second, it’s unfair to judge a film by comparing it to another film, especially when it’s the sequel to an Academy Award winner.
Third, it’s impossible to critique Gladiator II without referencing Gladiator, especially since the film itself constantly references Gladiator.

On its own, Gladiator II is an entertaining film that retains much of what was handed down from its progenitor. Despite his occasional missteps, Ridley Scott remains one of the world’s greatest spectacle filmmakers. Rome is (again) stunning, sprawling and dense with grime and opulence in a way that probably never happened in history but centuries of myth have convinced us is true. The Colosseum is (again) an imposing monument to power: that of the humans and other creatures fighting, of the crowds swaying the outcome of a great fight, and of the ruling class ultimately deciding the fate of all who enter. Gladiator battles are tense and well choreographed: punches land with force, bones crunch, blades vibrate and break, and arrows pierce armor and flesh alike. While the number suffered by the lead characters is questionable, wounds themselves linger and require on-going treatment. The film also includes the historically accurate fact that the Colosseum floor would be flooded to recreate naval battles, although perhaps the inclusion of sharks is less accurate. Even the score, with Harry Gregson-Wanger taking over for Hans Zimmer, is suitably epic.

Yet, as much as it looks and sounds the same, Gladiator II still feels underwhelming.

From the repeated images of Hanno (Paul Mescal) digging his hands into The Colosseum dirt to a late-film inclusion of a tiger caged outside of The Colosseum, the film is obsessed with referencing the previous to the point where individual story beats parallel each other. Gladiator’s opening battle, where Maximus first delivers his immortal speech, is repeated here as a naval battle complete with its own inspiring words which are echoed later in the film. Gladiator II obviously attempts to top the previous by upping the stakes and spectacle, with ground defenses and dozens of Roman warships flinging explosive pots at each other, and switching the point of view from the conquering Roman army to those conquered by the Roman army, but it still all seems so perfunctory. The moment Hanno’s wife Arishat (Yuval Gonen) appears on screen, we know exactly what will happen with her. Similarly, the moment Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal) appears on screen, we know exactly what will with him. The same might’ve been true with Gladiator – the film was after all marketed as the general who becomes a slave – but seeing the inevitable unfold on screen once is much more tolerable than seeing the same inevitable unfold on screen twice. From here the second film continues as a near one-to-one recreation of the first.

It was actually an interview aired on a HBO back in 2000 which convinced me to even watch what appeared to be a mindless action movie. In the interview, Russell Crowe described Gladiator as “There’s a big fight scene. And then there’s some talking. Then there’s another big fight scene. Then some more talking. And it all leads up to one big fight scene.” He probably never actually used those words but years of memory have convinced me he did. While the end product is not as shallow as Crowe stated, part of what makes Gladiator so great is that at its core it’s a simple revenge narrative. There is of course the intrigue of Roman politics; debates about democracy and self-determination; the use violence as spectacle, distraction, and control; and themes of family and fate. Yet these elements serve less as detours than enticing off ramps for those who wish to explore between the fight scenes. Despite having to change the plot following the real life death of Oliver Reed, Gladiator pulls off the almost impossible task of balancing its action with its intrigue, both earning their screen time. Those who want a mindless action move can find one, while those who want discussions on the ethics of imperial rule and the culpability of generals who serve such rules or inspiration for overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles can find those. Gladiator II, on the other hand, follows the sequel ethos of “again but bigger” by both repeating this basic structure and convoluting it with twists that are never once surprising and hinting at leadership by birthright before leading, of course, to one big fight scene. It’s hard not to feel as though the entire film is somewhat… uninspired.

The fight scenes alone offer a glimpse of how much effort, or perhaps lack of effort, Gladiator II puts into attempting to repeat and elaborate on Gladiator. Where Gladiator included an animal fight, Gladiator II has two animal fights – although the new CGI doesn’t look as good now as actual composited tigers looked back then. Where Gladiator has a four-on-one battle, Gladiator II has a four-on-one battle – although not as brutally efficient as the first. Where Gladiator has a recreation of an historic victory, Gladiator II has a recreation of an historic victory – although without the vanquished changing history. Where Gladiator features a fight with an old, retired champion, Gladiator II features a fight with an old, retired champion, this time including an animal. Where Gladiator ended with a one-on-one showdown, well…

Yet, the easiest glimpse of Gladiator II remaining in Gladiator’s shadow is in the characters themselves. Where Maximus was both general and gladiator, Gladiator II splits these roles between Hanno and Acacius, allowing neither character nor their actors to match the depth of their singular predecessor. Maximus is such a powerful figure that both Hanno and Acacius even cite him to each other as an inspiration. For his part, Mescal is an excellent actor (I’ve likely recommended Aftersun more often than any film in the last five years) but he simply can’t match Crowe’s presence. The script repeatedly tells us that Hanno’s strength is his anger, yet he seldom demonstrates that anger, and even less often uses it. Mescal is convincing in the role, but it’s as though the script itself is in conflict with his performance. Even his opening speech of, “Where Death is we are not. Where we are Death is not,” is overwritten and lacks the simple impact of “What we do in life echoes in eternity.” The film acknowledges its own shortcomings by literally quoting the original line as often as the new one. Meanwhile, Pedro Pascal is not allowed to bring his usual delightful charisma to a part that is essentially the contemplative side of Maximus. Again, it’s hard not to feel as though the script is limited what the actor can do, granting him only the opportunity to display one half of his range. The only performer allowed to explore the part is Denzel Washington who clearly delights in eccentricity and cruelty yet never hits the peaks which have won him two Academy Awards. Where Gladiator afforded Russell Crowe the opportunity to display a range which won him an Oscar, Gladiator II limits its leads to being only shallow reflections of Maximus. Again, it all feels so uninspired.

However, while Gladiator II may be a film no one wants, it’s a film the world deserves.

The opening scrawl references extreme corruption and how few people still believe in the dream of Rome, an idea that Hanno repeats throughout. The twin emperors are buffoonish figures of questionable mental stability with yellow hair and faces packed with make-up. They appoint literal pets and sycophantic businessmen to advisory positions. They delight in having the rabble fight for them. They turn Rome’s army against its own people. They never once speak of fixing any of the problems plaguing their country. They only speak of gaining more power for themselves and retribution against those who have wronged them. They dismantle democracy, ruling instead as tyrants. The dream of Rome, of an equalitarian society where all are welcome and valued, is dying.

There is no question that much of our modern life feels overwhelming or lost and we need to find ourselves again. The “inevitable march to freedom,” as spoken by another inspirational figure, has taken horrible twists from which we may never return. Rises in authoritarianism and ethno-centrism leave entire nations in danger while power-hungry billionaires seek to re-route the course of history. Dictatorships have overthrown democracies. Our dreams are dying.

Some say Rome is beyond saving. None are pure. Let it all burn.

But some still believe in the dream. That Rome is worth saving. They believe that the dream, while delayed, is not dead.

Sadly, as with so much else, Gladiator II never reaches the inspiration of the previous film. Gladiator proclaimed strong statements of fighting against tyranny. That what Maximus’s did in life would echo long after he was gone. Gladiator II shows how Rome failed to listen. It shows that allowing the tyrants to win, even temporarily, can forever diminish what was once great. Rome is no longer Maximus screaming into eternity. Rome is Hanno, lessened, fading, until forgotten. We know Rome will fall, even if we don’t know when.

Rome had its inspiration. Rome had its path forward. Instead, Rome lost its way. Rome gave up on democracy and self-determination. It gave into violence, spectacle, and distraction. It lost its control. So here it is… an echo of itself

lessened

fading

until…

 

Rating: 3.5 / 5