A product of our era of legacy sequels and zombified intellectual properties, Ridley Scott’s Gladiator II sets out to one-up its fondly remembered predecessor with more grandiose set pieces, more convoluted political intrigues, and twice as many creepy, pasty emperors. The overarching idea of this exercise in maximalism à la late-period Scott has something to do with Rome (and, perhaps, any present-day institutions that Rome might stand in for) becoming a twisted parody of itself, ruled by a perverted Romulus and Remus duo who entertain the populace by recreating ancient naval victories in a flooded Colosseum. But whatever the thematic parallels (intended or not), one can’t help but feel as though the whole movie were periodically bellowing the original’s most famous line: “Are you not entertained!?” The answer is no, not really, and no amount of digital gladiatorial carnage or bug-eyed overacting can mask the prevailing air of exhausted, decadent imperial decline.
But then, what’s the point of making a second Gladiator movie if not to cash in? The original doesn’t really leave any material for a sequel, given that (spoiler alert!) its charismatic hero, the general-turned-gladiator Maximus, dies in the end. There were attempts by Scott and others to produce a follow-up in the 2000s, with an eye toward having Russell Crowe reprise his Oscar-winning turn as Maximus, logic and the finality of death be damned; among those failed efforts was a notorious rejected screenplay by the musician Nick Cave that followed Maximus into the underworld and back to the land of the living on an allegorical journey through the twilight of the Roman pantheon, the beginnings of Christianity, and eternal cycles of violence and damnation, ending in the present day. (The script, which is easy to find online, is worth a read for Cave fans and Hollywood boondoggle aficionados.)
Unfortunately, Gladiator II (or GladIIator, as the opening credits put it) is nowhere near that bizarre or ambitious; in many ways, its script is more of a self-conscious retread than a continuation. The focus this time around is on Lucius (Paul Mescal), the nephew of the original’s villainous Emperor Commodus and grandson of the philosophizing Marcus Aurelius. Sent away by his mother, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), for his own protection as a boy, he has grown up rejecting all the things Rome stands for and settled into life as an ordinary Joe in North Africa. The empire to which he is the rightful heir is being ruled by the Caliguloid sibling tyrants Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger), who have sent their favorite general, Acacius (Pedro Pascal), to conquer Lucius’ adopted home.
The Romans invade, and Lucius is captured, enslaved, and sent to fight baboons in a gladiator arena in the Roman outskirts. There, he catches the eye of Macrinus (Denzel Washington, Acting with a capital A), a wheeler-dealer with ambiguous motives who promises to help him get revenge against Acacius (who, unbeknownst to Lucius, is now married to Lucilla, making him Lucius’s stepdad). It’s worth noting here that Lucius’ backstory isn’t actually revealed until well into Gladiator II (though it and other contrived plot twists have already been spoiled by the marketing); for a sizeable chunk of the movie, Lucius is just Some Guy, never shaking the impression that he is a stand-in for an absent Maximus in a recapitulation of the earlier film’s greatest hits.
Like the first Gladiator, the movie opens with a battle scene, a sea invasion that makes for a larger and more VFX-heavy spectacle but lacks all the things that made the original’s opening so rousing: the tension, the primeval muckiness, the memorable dialogue, the bombast of Hans Zimmer’s Holst-plagiarizing score. And, as in the original, there’s a gauntlet of set pieces, as Lucius soon finds himself competing in a gladiatorial festival thrown in Acacius’ honor. There’s the aforementioned mock naval battle (spiced up with sharks), a showdown against a champion gladiator who rides a rhinoceros, sweeping bird’s eye shots of the Colosseum and the ancient cityscape—the sort of historical-epic eyefuls that Scott has long been a pro at. He could probably direct them in his sleep, and maybe did. Everything seems blearily doubled: the two emperors, the narrative rhyme of the opening sea invasion and the naval battle, Lucius and Acacius as rival Maximus-alikes, the men and beasts side by side in the arena.
There’s political plotting and big talk about overthrowing tyranny and “the dream of Rome,” which, given the tone of Gladiator II, feels like a weak plea for the nominal values of liberal democracy. It’s bad history, but so was the original; the problem is that it’s also bad historical fiction, doubling down on the destinies and soap-operatic machinations while grasping for parallels with the present. For all of its scale and spectacle, the original Gladiator was, at its core, a story of old-fashioned righteous vengeance, with the populist instincts to back up its speechifying. Unlike that film, Gladiator II never attempts to identify us, the audience, with the spectators in the stands of the arena. Nonetheless, a viewer might, by the end, find themselves in a mindset not too different from theirs: bored by the long-winded introductions and processions of senators and soldiers and craving a more visceral level of violence.
Director: Ridley Scott
Writer: David Scarpa
Starring: Paul Mescal, Pedro Pascal, Joseph Quinn, Fred Hechinger, Lior Raz, Derek Jacobi, Connie Nielsen, Denzel Washington
Release Date: November 22, 2024
English (US) ·