Director: Ridley Scott
Writer: David Scarpa
Stars: Paul Mescal, Pedro Pascal, Denzel Washington, Connie Nielsen
Synopsis: After his home is conquered by the tyrannical emperors who now lead Rome, Lucius is forced to enter the Colosseum and must look to his past to find strength to return the glory of Rome to its people.
Gladiator II, directed by Ridley Scott, is a movie I am torn about. The highs of Gladiator II are some of the greatest parts of this year’s movies. The lows are ultimately disappointing and unforced – odd in such ways that it leaves the remaining experience fractured. In the hours since watching the film, I find myself wishing that it was a legacy sequel more in the vein of Blade Runner 2049 – helmed by a crew willing to distance themselves from the past to create a film as rich as the first and not indebted to it.
Some parts of Gladiator II echo that type of legacy. It’s obsessed with Marcus Aruilious’ “dream of Rome” – that vision of a Rome where all people were free and lived in safety. That dream would be what ultimately set in motion Maximus’ plot for vengeance, but it wouldn’t be investigated in greater detail for the remainder of that film.
In Gladiator II, the dream of Rome becomes personified in Hanno (Paul Mescal) and Macrinus (Denzel Washington) – two individuals who live in tension with that initial dream. As we watch both these individuals find who they are, we begin to see how they fight for the soul of Rome. Macrinus is the ultimate antithesis of that dream: Macrinus rules through wealth and terror. Washington gives weighty dialogues about the power of being a free man in the Roman empire – the goal of the Colosseum isn’t to free yourself from your oppressor but to become the oppressor. Macrinus is the ultimate scheming character – gaining power by leading others to their hubris. The senate and twin emperors fall for his charms consistently – the charismatic Macrinus is disarming with his words. Washington’s ability to convey that faux vulnerability with a smile and a flicker of his hands is second to none. Washington has a knack for playing the lovable villain, and in the role of Macrinus, he shines. As Macrinus gains power and removes that mask of vulnerability, the layers of Washington’s performance are far more obvious. Entire shifts of demeanor occurring as a character heads off screen can be found, and Washington translates frustration into these small movements that enable the audience to follow the schemer with ease. Every word that falls from Macrinus’ mouth is primed to manipulate his subject – and while nearly every other character in the film falls for his charms, Hanno is the only individual to not be convinced.
Hanno is easily the strongest character in the film for me – because his loyalties aren’t to any one living person in Rome, but rather that long lost dream of Rome. Mescal rides this fine line between rage fueled anger and melancholic defiance that really works for me. There are a plethora of scenes in the film where Macrinus comments on Hanno’s unending rage – scenes that can feel out of place in the presence of Mescal’s walled-off expression. That straight face is Hanno’s purest act of defiance – he cannot be bought like Macrinus believes him to be. Hanno is far more secretive than Macrinus – he hides his true identity (or casts it away), and acts solely for himself in the arena. The rage that Macrinus speaks so highly of is present in every beat of the action – Mescal’s mastery of the choreography creates a performance that is as wild as Macrinus believes him to be.
I adore the way that Mescal is able to use apathy to create meaning in a scene. The script gives Mescal these moments of biting dialogue that utilize Mescal’s uncanny ability to ‘mask’ his emotions. It’s these moments that better show Hanno’s deeper conflict: Choosing whether to build a better Rome or abandon this world to its tyrants and return to his wife in the afterlife.
That core idea is very similar to that of Gladiator, but through the status of Hanno, it’s able to cut across with far more nuance in this film. Mescal’s lack of rage and embracing of apathy enables this character to grow far more intrinsically than Maximus did in Gladiator. There are moments in Gladiator II that attempt to create extrinsic motivation for Hanno in his quest to bring that dream of Rome to light…but sadly, these moments are far too reductive to truly work.
That extrinsic motivation is linked to this film’s legacy characters – the politicians and senators of Gladiator who ultimately found themselves in charge of Rome after Commodus’ death in the Colosseum. These schemers are sadly at a loss of true narrative agency. While their actions provide the catalyst to launch Hanno into the third act with a reformed identity, they fail to serve the story in any new thematic ways.
Gladiator as a film gains greater meaning through its schemers’ attempts to dethrone Commodus – it highlights how complacency leads to evil’s rise and stems from a protective component of Maximus’ identity. Maximus’ escape plan being foiled is enabled solely by Quintus – and ultimately, that tension is broken in the final moments when Quintus chooses to not interfere during the final showdown of that first movie. The b-plot is fundamental to the story of Gladiator – in many ways, being the driving force that showcases our characters having the agency to undermine Commodus.
In Gladiator II, the B-plot is a condemnation of the subtle art of politics. Our schemers are unable to unseat the Twin Tyrants, only enabling a newer, far crueler individual, to gain power. That idea is a good idea – but it’s also shown to be the status quo from the minute the opening titles reveal that Twin Emperors have taken over Rome. The backstories of Hanno and Macrinus build this exact same idea. And they manage this without being reductive, carbon copies of the previous film.
This is the fundamental failing of the story created by David Scarpa and Peter Craig. The inclusion of Gladiator’s legacy characters falls flat – the story has little for these old schemers to do. Lucilla and Gracchus may both be the same rebels we knew from 24 years ago, but when their story hits the exact same beats – and the exact same snags – it fails to be fresh and innovative. These schemers’ failures may be what grants Macrinus his rise to power, but it’s done far too slowly, uninterestingly, and doesn’t effectively intertwine with the story of Hanno.
That comes at a substantial cost for General Acacius (Pedro Pascal) – the new husband of Lucilla, who has so little agency in this film. The story is far too sympathetic to him too early into the film for Hanno’s revenge narrative to fully take off, and yet, Acacius is too pinned down by the narrative to add anything substantial to this story. Pascal is great in the film, being both charismatic and noble in all the ways that make him endearing to the audience despite his short screen time – but his talents are wasted in a film that traps Acacius into a two-dimensional character without any narrative agency. Connie Nielson’s Lucilla is dealt the same hand – and while she is given a heavier task in navigating the loss of Lucius – her role in the narrative is still extremely limited.
In discussing Gladiator II and its themes of a Dream of Rome, I feel that I have failed to highlight why I care so deeply for this movie. The screenplay and writing can be, at times, derivative, leading to entire sections of the plot feeling far too exposable for an epic of this size. But I say this because I believe in this dream of Rome – a dream that comes to life through the sheer scale of Gladiator II.
Ridley Scott certainly knows how to get the most bang for buck on a film set. Few directors can consistently create visual marvels for the silver screen – and Scott does it at such a pace that it must be celebrated. Over the past 5 years, we’ve been gifted with Ridley Scott’s signature low-fantasy styles with The Last Duel (2021) and Napoleon (2023). Both of these epics have the grand costumes I’ve come to expect, and highlight how Scott has evolved as an action director – but they don’t have the same sense of scale offered by the Roman Empire. That scale is what feels so unique to Gladiator II, and while it was present in its predecessor, it feels far bigger here.
One major shift from the previous film is the inclusion of naval combat. The film opens with the battle of Numidia, and here is where we are first introduced to the ships of Rome. Hanno (Paul Mescal), is the general of Numidia’s defense, and we are given mere moments to take in the beauty of this massive city – before being swept over the waves to be introduced to the great General Acacius & the full navy of Rome. Each of these ships is far more forbidding than any ground army could be – armed with catapults & boarding towers too large to be overcome by a single fighter. As the arrows from both sides fly, it becomes quickly apparent that something larger must be used to resolve this battle – the ships are coming, and arrows alone won’t stop them. At this moment, the full power of Numidia is revealed – the catapults and trebuchets that launch flaming balls hungry for the wood of these Roman ships.
The artwork of creating ancient war machines for the big screen is at its height with Gladiator II – when trebuchets, catapults, cavalry, massive warships, and greater walls are captured on camera, it’s impossible to look away from this technical marvel. Even when the action becomes more and more theatrical within the Colosseum, it never loses its sense of danger and scope. This is aided by the tactile feel of the world – the environment, set design, and costumes are all gorgeous. Where the practical effects end and the digital effects begin, I cannot say, for this world is truly enthralling. Arthur Max’s production design is a grand statement to this majestic world: It shows a Rome full of beauty that you wish was real. The costumes, the shadows, the prop blades, the makeup – it all exists to showcase the disproportionate world of Rome in its glory.
This grand artwork isn’t unique to Gladiator II – indeed, Gladiator has some of the best set and costume designs put to film. But the major cinematic upgrade is shown in the film’s action. Whether it’s the natural evolution of Ridley Scott as a more accomplished action director, or the inclusion of editors Sam Restivo and Claire Simpson, Gladiator II is a major step up from its predecessor in its action scenes. Where Gladiator was an action film created through covering broken continuity with phenomenal sound design, Gladiator II doesn’t need to fake the action. The geography of the action is followable throughout the fast-paced action – and it makes for a grand spectacle worthy of the silver screen. Now, when we see the action on the floor of the Colosseum, we are far more able to take in this beautifully broken empirical world. Through stronger editing in the action, Gladiator II is able to transport you into the world of Rome with ease. And the action now plays a stronger role in the characterization of key characters – Mescal is able to entertain as a wild beast through the choreography, and tell a story without any lines of dialogue. It’s a massive step up from its predecessor in these technical elements.
Although the story wanders, Gladiator II sold me an entertaining time at the movies that inspired hope that a better world can exist. I feel far more connected to Hanno’s conflict than I did to Maximus – and Mescal’s performance walks a line between apathy and duty so perfectly for me. Add to this a stunning performance from Denzel Washington, and its easy to see why I am giving Gladiator II a thumbs up. It’s worth watching on the big screen and adds to the mythology of Gladiator in fascinating, worthwhile ways.
