Look, I get this is a bit late, but I saw two movies in mid-November, Gladiator II and Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. A set of legacy sequels that pulled off the feat to varying levels of success—moderate to phenomenal. I’ll let you guess which was which but I’m going to go out of chronological order.
On the Saturday before Thanksgiving, my dad and I grabbed a quick bite of sushi before heading to the theater in McMinnville to witness Ridley Scott’s Gladiator II. Yes, I’m really saying witness instead of see; if it had been any other movie, it would have been “see” or “watch. But this is freaking Gladiator freaking II. A sequel I never thought would see the light of freaking day.1
And let’s be honest, the sequels looks better with the roman numerals. I mean, c’mon, Rome. Gladiators. Colosseum. Numerals. Had to be done. And the opening credit themselves do it with the soft pastel animation of the original’s most memorable moments before fading in with all caps and then spacing out: GLADIIATOR.
God damn did Ridley Scott cook in the first 15 minutes of this movie.
Oh what’s that? Oh, right the movie itself. It was not a trainwreck. It was not a mass slaughter of exotic animals would be more apt, I guess. A backhanded compliment if there ever was one, but an important note: this could have been so. A part of me wishes that it had gone the full Nick Cave and resurrected Maximus to fight across time periods like a demigod of war2 but the story they chose made sense.
Yes, there’s some eyerolling involved with the character relationships, recycled plot elements and a final third that throws all logic out the window (Archway? Vomitorium? I dunno man, I speak French, not Latin3) in order to give one of the hammiest speeches ever delivered on cinema.
But I said it once and I’ll say it again: god damn did Ridley Scott cook in the first 15 minutes of this movie. He even did a solid for the historical YouTube channels in need of another “Professional historian reviews historical epic” clickbait banger by inserting a counterweight trebuchet into the opening battle. Forget the redundancy of fire arrows or an inconsistency in tactical formations, Scott decided he needed to move up the technological timeline by a healthy 900 years4.
Moreover, there’s a valid metacommentary surrounding this film; that it is a prime example of Hollywood and American culture cannibalizing itself. To tell the truth, there is not as much pathos as the original, which centered on a tale of vengeance for a slain family. But that’s not what this film is banking on; it’s not about pathos.
It’s about banking on the fact that that we like this version of Rome that Ridley Scott first introduced to us in the original Gladiator. That we like swords and sandals and gladiators in the ring. That we like references to Marcus Aurelius and Maximus Decimus Meridius. That we like Connie Nielsen as the former heir empress Lucilla. And that we like Denzel Washington as, well, Denzel Washington.
And it’s cynical. But we do. Pathos be damned.
The only complaint I have centers on how the story loses all touch with reality in its final third. A feat, to be sure. But hey, the demon baboons were weird too. I was hoping to touch on a little more of the Crisis of the Third Century, rather than letting that just sit in the background.5
Despite my misgiving, however, imperial Rome is clearly where Scott can bring his most sumptuous, indulgent and dramatic sense of cinema to bear. Even when the plot fails to capitalize or the details are misleading, there’s some other delectable detail to chew upon. Chiefly the performances.
Denzel Washington mastered every minute of screentime as Macrinus, although his accent and mannerisms spoke more to a Brooklynite gangster rather than a Roman magnate. The return of Connie Nielsen was robed in fabulous gravitas, anchoring the character scenes with Paul Mescal’s Hanno. Pedro Pascal wears Acacius’ fatigue of combat in every minute of screentime whether storming the ramparts or sipping wine in the atrium with Joseph Quinn and Fred Herchinger as the twin emperors Geta and Caracalla.
And it’s these last three that deserve a highlight: Quinn and Herchinger function well as facsimiles for Joaquin Phoenix’s Commodus. While they lack the dynamism of Phoenix’s original emperor, they normalize behavior of the eccentric autocrat with every demand for loyalty and imperious outburst. In particular, their twin coatings of blanc de céruse6 simultaneously work as commentary on the original film and contemporary politics7.
Pedro Pascal, for his part, played the part of fastidious Roman general without dropping a beat. If Mescal takes the hero in the arena aspect of Russel Crowe’s character and runs with it, then Pascal is the hero from the battlefront. The tension between his character and the emperors was thicker than all of the blood spurting from each stump and improvised perforation. I actually enjoyed every scene of his more than Washington’s; if nothing else because Pascal’s general felt like a more grounded character as opposed to the delicious flamboyance of Washington.
Oh and I would be remiss not to mention Alexander Karim’s fantastic soul as Ravi, the gladiatorial doctor, Hanno’s confidant and narrative touchstone between the two films.
I even appreciate how the film connects itself to the original, utilizing the Roman practice of damnatio memoriae to demonstrate the power and danger of symbols and icons. When the film reaches its climax, you can feel the presence of Maximus on the climactic battle in the arena. And it is glorious to behold.
But now I’m dancing around the substance of the matter. Would I recommend Gladiator II? Yes, absolutely. While it doesn’t have quite the emotional resonance as its predecessor, it doesn’t move into an ungrounded or fantastical space that would have you wondering if this were even the same franchise. Apart from the last 15 minutes of the film, that is.
But it’s because of those last 15 minutes that I make my recommendation; go see a movie play the part of legacy sequel perfectly then watch how not to end a legacy sequel. It was so egregious, it was worth the price of admission. But what about Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes? Well, we’ll get to that next time.
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1 Alright, alright, enough with the fucking freaking.
2 You bet your ass it was real, it was written by Nick Cave (yes that Nick Cave) and it was absolutely bonkers. Script here.
3 Annnnd of course it’s fenestram. sigh The French word for window is fenêtre.
4 Also Numidia was very much under Roman control by 200 CE. Geta and Caracalla would not really become co-emperors until 211 CE. And, well, yeah. The guys who review historical accuracy on YouTube for a living are going to have a field day with this one.
5 For the curious, in actual recorded Roman history, Geta and Caracalla were not quite trigger points for the Crisis of the Third Century, but still important persons in the continued destabilization of the imperial court. Another 15 years after the death of Caracalla in 217 CE and the empire would tumble into a half-century tumult.
6 Is this a historical inaccuracy? Probably on my part, but I couldn’t find a Latin name for the use of lead to whiten skin. They did practice skin whitening with lead, despite knowing the poisonous properties, but I could not find a name for the actual cosmetic practice. Still, Ovid provides a pretty gnarly recipe for anyone nuts enough to try. The lead poison is one thing, but I might actually object more to the feel of honey on the skin.
7 Yes, I do mean that they look like the President-Elect. The similarities are just that striking and obvious, it was the first impression before anything else. There’s also a less generous reading of emasculated men in positions of power, but I’ll leave that for someone more qualified to speak on it.
The Casual Ramble 
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