When Russell Crowe asked a crowd of bloodthirsty Romans twenty-four years ago “Are you not entertained?” he cemented Gladiator (2000) as one of the most prolific neoclassical films modern audiences had ever seen. The sheer rawness of his performance, righteous anger, commitment to the all-enduring “strength and honor” — all of it contributed to the quintessence of the film. Growing up with a Gladiator-obsessed Dad and brother, I was often forced into watching it, but those nights slowly became some of my favorites as I grew to appreciate the film’s nuance, storytelling, and intentional connection to historical accuracy (and yes, hot cast). The bar Ridley Scott had set, despite falling short of winning Best Director in 2001, was colossal. So, when a sequel starring none other than Normal People star Paul Mescal and Game of Thrones legend Pedro Pascal was announced, best believe I was shaking in my boots, excited yet nervous.
One of the hardest expectations a sequel has to grapple with is the obvious: can it ever live up to the original? In the case of Gladiator II, it had a lot to live up to. Not only did its predecessor gross $465.4 million in theaters worldwide, but it also took home 104 nominations and 60 wins throughout its award season. On a personal level, I didn’t know if the sheer aura of Maximus Decimus Meridius (Russell Crowe) and his on-screen presence could have been matched. I also didn’t know if there was even a story remaining when (spoiler) the original movie ends with the two main characters lying dead and bleeding out on the Colosseum sand. Keeping all this in mind, I made an intentional effort not to know spoilers when walking into the theater, and I’m glad I did because it made my experience that much more captivating. Instead of looking for clues from trailers (I saw one of Denzel Washington, which gave nothing away), I was questioning where the next plot device would take me with no predictions or preconceived notions — in my opinion, how every movie should be watched.
The film’s basic premise is as follows: after Maximus dies at the end of the first movie, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen) sneaks her son Lucius out of Rome to Numidia, a small town on the northern African coast. Gladiator II picks up on where Lucius is now, many years later, living as a farmer with a wife and peaceful life (eerily similar to Maximus’ home). Everything’s fine and dandy (with some nice up-close shots of Mescal’s hands) up until Roman general Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal) leads an attack on Numidia, at the bequest of the tyrannical twin emperors obsessed with expansion. Lucius is forced to lead, fight, and then watch his wife die.
Whereas Maximus was a born general, with rigid Roman morals and the father-figure of Marcus Aurelius, Lucius is forced into the position, and ironically draws on his childhood hero Maximus to lead and inspire with a swagger and confidence that will only grow throughout the film. What made the original so moving was the deep reflection of its protagonist; Maximus was in deep pain over the death of his family and betrayal of Roman honor and I could feel that anguish, which while raw also emanated as noble and righteous. Lucius’ anger however feels animalistic, driven by a deep-seated need for retribution that is his driving life force. He is forced to fight for his home, then watch as his wife is brutally killed in battle (fair warning the brutality of the first film does match the second), then is sold into slavery — echoing Maximus’ story to a T. However, when Maximus’ owner/trainer Proximo (Oliver Reed) asks the former general what he wants, he has no answer — he’s already dead when he sees his family hanging and wants to join them. As a former-slave-turned-gladiator-turned-free-man, Proximo’s inspiring story sparks Maximus’ recommitment to building a better Rome. The late emperor granted Proximo his freedom after the former gladiator earned the Roman mob’s love. He promises Maximus if he too can win their love, he’ll be placed before the emperor — which for Maximus, would mean confronting the very man who killed his mentor, his wife, his son, and the whisper of Rome he had begun to dream about. There’s a foil scene of Proximo and Maximus’ in the sequel, reflected when Macrinus (Denzel Washington), Lucius’ owner but also mentor, asks him what he wants; this time, however, the star gladiator has an answer ready. He wants to murder the man who killed his wife, which, unfortunately for the returning character Lucilla, is her husband Marcus Acacius.
This kind of tragic backstory, raw with viscerality, isn’t new for the Gladiator franchise, but where I did have questions was what could have possibly gone so wrong that, after Maximus died for this paragon of Rome with power returned to the Senate, the empire could have been so mismanaged to end up pretty much exactly where Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix) would have wanted it. I had seen a power-hungry emperor in Commodus, just as I had seen Maximus take him out, with his literal dying breaths. And yet this sequel begins with a Rome that has fallen back into treachery and corruption, led by what I can only describe as maniacal twin twinks (played by Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger). In a way, this sequel felt like a take two, saying okay, this time we’ve really got a new Rome locked down (at least until Ridley Scott decides to make it a trilogy).This is not to say the sequel was an unnecessary addition, but rather the opposite, as it offered an extension of the story I grew up loving. Whether it be montages of the original, Lucius rubbing the Colosseum dirt on his fingertips, or the return of Maximus’ iconic armor at a pivotal moment for Lucius, this sequel did deserve to be made, and what I appreciated most about this sequel was its knowledge that it was just that — a sequel. Ties were made to the original with nods carefully and thoughtfully placed, without making the film seem like a cash-grab addendum to an already phenomenal standalone. Lucius’ lineage is revealed beautifully and the iconic roars of Roman applause stayed the same, all the while adding another layer to the dimensions of Roman life and questioning what it means to stand for the people when so many around you are filled with greed, corruption or deep twisted vengeance (hello Macrinus). Even more, a sense of poetic justice was met when Lucius calls an army to his command and they listen — deviating from Maximus’ failed plot to return Rome to its proper future in the original. What made the original so moving was the true heart of Maximus, how his squinted eyes reflect a world of meaning — a heart and meaning that is reflected on a more instinctual level in Mescal’s performance. Gladiator II is not a disappointment, but it’s not something entirely new either — it’s the same story we know and love and if you ask if I’m entertained? The answer is yes. Resoundingly, strikingly, utterly yes.