Gladiator II

☆☆

Ordinarily, 150 minutes of gazing into Paul Mescal’s dreamy blue eyes as he dons a gladiator leather mini-skirt whilst defeating opponents in the Colosseum wouldn’t leave me with much to complain about. Alas, not even that could assuage my disappointment in Scott Ridley’s Gladiator II.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Rest in Peace, Gladiator

I deeply, deeply loved the first Gladiator. Many a night, my mother and I were moved to tears by the cast’s stirring performances, the compelling story, and, of course, Hans Zimmer’s exceptional score. With the final battle and the deaths of both Maximus and Commodus, I thought we laid the characters and story to rest in the most tragically beautiful way. Gladiator II has exhumed those corpses in the most crude fashion. I almost regret watching this film, which claims to continue the legacy of the original Gladiator.

The premise of Gladiator II is that, literally moments after Maximus drops dead, Lucilla supposedly rushes Lucius out of the arena and sends him away for his own safety, vowing to bring the Prince of Rome home when it’s safe to do so. To some extent, I understand that the deaths at the end of Gladiator would have created a power vacuum, which might have reasonably posed threats to Lucius’ life. But I’m still somewhat confused as to why Lucilla would send her son away, rather than protect and develop a potentially decent and capable Roman leader, who could champion her father’s vision of Rome and democracy.

Aside from this premise, which seems to undermine the original ending, Gladiator II repurposes so many elements from the first film. Whether this was a cheap way of manufacturing appeal or an ill-fitting attempt to pay homage, it simply did not work. Capitalising on the original film’s success did not lend any weight or depth to the story and characters in this one; it just made it feel like cheap fan fiction.

The Dead Wife

One parallel between the two films that I particularly disliked is the ‘dead wife’ trope. I believe the ‘dead wife/dead son’ plotline worked in Gladiator because, after Commodus killed his father, chaos ensued, making it plausible for a corrupt emperor to eliminate his enemies and their families to secure his power. These deaths were poignant; in the opening scenes, we see Maximus eager to return home to his family; during Commodus’ betrayal, we grieve with Maximus as he loses his men; and we’re held in suspense as he races home, only to find his family murdered. This loss and grievance are substantive and relevant up until his very last breath.

My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions and loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.

Conversely, in Gladiator II, from the moment Arishat appeared on screen, I knew she would die. Her death garnered no sympathy because I neither knew her nor cared about her relationship with Lucius. It was a lazy and predictable plot device and failed to justify the “rage” that Denzel Washington’s character, Marcinus, keeps referring to when he watches Paul Mescal fight.

If we’re to accept the premise of Lucius being sent away for his safety, I think we should have explored his backstory more thoroughly. For instance, the film could have depicted how each time Lucius built a new home and family, Roman soldiers would come along and destroy it– whether they were hunting him specifically or as collateral damage of imperialism. This would fit, as in the opening scenes of Gladiator II Lucius’ current home in Numidia, Africa is conquered by the Romans. So, this approach would have given substance to his rage and resentment against Rome, avoided the tired dead wife trope, and also made for a more interesting story.

Further on the point of the dead wife, what’s with the grim reaper rowing her down the River Styx (at least, this was my interpretation)? It was a bizarre parallel to the wheat field of Elysium from the first movie, if it was even intended as such. My most predominant thought in those scenes was how much the shot reminded me of the graphic, stylised cinematography of the movie 300.

More On The Style

Gladiator felt very real. At least in my many rewatches of this film, I was never taken out of the story by the production. It took just one viewing of Gladiator II for me to fixate on the ridiculousness of the aesthetics, with Arishat in the afterlife being culprit number one.

Next, can we talk about the apes Paul Mescal had to battle? How did filmmakers in the early 2000s accomplish seamless special effects in movies like Pirates of the Caribbean, yet in 2024, we’re getting CGI mutant monkeys that look like the volcra monsters that crawl out of The Fold in Leigh Bardugo’s fantasy series Shadow and Bone. The absurdity persists when a gladiator rides out on a rhino, which, a quick Google search assured me would not have occurred. While exotic animals were indeed sourced for fights, it’s unlikely anyone would have ridden them. Similarly, while the Colosseum was apparently flooded to stage naval battles, the water was shallow and wouldn’t have housed great white sharks circling for a bite of gladiator (much to Ridley Scott’s objection).

I’ll pause my critique of the special effects department to reprimand the makeup and costume designers. If this movie’s naval battle is equivalent to the 75th Hunger Games arena, Matt Lucas and his extravagant jewellery and cobalt-blue eyeliner, is Caesar Flickerman. Joseph Quinn as Emperor Geta and Fred Hechinger as Emperor Caracalla looked to be one powder puff away from lead poisoning with their ghostly pale complexions. Geta served us smokey eyes and 2010s concealer lips, whilst Caraculla played with rouge and a gold tooth cap. On the cover of Vogue you’ll hear no protest from me. But for ancient Rome? Me and my admittedly limited knowledge of the fashion and cosmetics of the time have some questions.

Characters

I’m not familiar with Hechinger but can vouch for the acting chops of Quinn, Mescal, Pascal, and Washington. The issue is that they had so little to work with. The script did them such a disservice and the performances consequently fell flat or seemed laughable.

With a refined story and better script, I wonder if Gladiator II would have benefited from being developed into a television series. Especially for the emperors, this format would have afforded us more time to explore their corruption, as well as their tumultuous relationship with one another. Commodus was one of the greatest movie villains. In Gladiator, despite the limited runtime, I could abhor Commodus yet still understand what motivated him, even empathising with the hurt little boy who just wanted his father’s love and approval. The same can’t be said of Geta and Caracalla who appeared cartoonish.

This approach might have also benefited Lucius whose story and motivations were a jumbled mess of loose threads. Do you seek vengeance for your dead wife? Because in one instance he desperately wants Pedro Pascal’s head on a spike for ordering someone to shoot Ashrit during active combat (an arguably logical decision in battle when said archer is killing all of his men). The next they’re best mates, united against Rome. Do you have mummy issues? Because at one stage, he could not stand the sight of that woman and refused to acknowledge her because she abandoned him. Do you hate Rome or do you love it? Do you accept your mantle as Prince of Rome or not? I know that in life people and their problems are complex and multifaceted but in cinema I’d prefer for these threads to be tighter and more sophisticatedly woven together.

The Contrived Plot

Gladiator explored complex themes while presenting a sequence of events that were logical and easy to follow. Maximus had to win in regional battles to reach the Colosseum and face the emperor. His role as leader of the gladiators felt organic, given his background as a military commander. Gladiator II was terribly contrived. Lucius immediately fights in front of the emperor in a bizarre house brawl. He then spouts poetry, which Geta happens to recall and recite when he sees Lucius fighting in the Colosseum, consequently, Lucilla realises this gladiator may be her long lost son, as Lucius happened to have Virgil’s poetry inscribed on the wall of his childhood bedroom. Soon, Marcinus connects the dots, and suddenly everyone knows that Paul Mescal is Lucius Verus II. Give me a break.

I can’t forget to mention that Lucilla drops the bomb that Maximus is Lucius' father which, to my knowledge, simply isn’t canon. Lucius Verus II is, as the name may suggest, the son of Lucius Verus I. I hated that we’re sold this new narrative which again seems to undermine the first film, but also cheapen the second. I loved the tragedy of Lucilla having always loved Maximus and connecting more intimately with him following her father’s death as they both loved and grieved for him. I don’t like that we’re positioning Maximus as a cheater, I refuse to believe that he would. Furthermore, making Maximus Lucius’ father does not justify why Lucius is a skilled fighter or natural leader, or automatically strengthen his character. He can still mirror Maximus without being blood relatives. And in fact, the movie should have focused more on giving him a personality, rather than rewriting his ancestry.

A (Somewhat) Redeeming Feature

Marcinus was somewhat intriguing and complex. Initially, he seemed like a Proximus-like mentor figure, but as the story unfolded, he is revealed to be an ambitious, master manipulator, vying for the throne. He had a great and compelling line about revenge– something to the effect of being a slave who was bought by an empire of which he is now emperor. However, his rise to power felt rushed (a problem easily solved by my tv series solution). We don’t observe any reasonable barriers to his politicking and scheming, and before we’ve even processed that he’s killed the emperors and claimed the throne, Lucius has drowned him in a river. This is not a short movie, so the fact that nothing feels properly developed, settled, or resolved, speaks to the untidiness of this story.

Final Remarks

If Gladiator II weren’t standing in the shadow of a classic, I might have enjoyed it more. After all, it has great actors, a touch of romance, political intrigue, a historical setting, and plenty of action—what’s not to love? Unfortunately, the execution was devastating. Do yourself a favour and save your money; you can always judge this film for yourself when it hits streaming.