Cast: Paul Mescal, Pedro Pascal, Joseph Quinn, Fred Hechinger, Lior Raz, Derek Jacobi, with Connie Nielsen and Denzel Washington
Genre: Action, Drama, Adventure
Director: Ridley Scott
In Irish Cinemas: 15th November 2024
Paul Mescal and a Scene-Stealing Denzel Washington Shine in Ridley Scott’s Gladiator II, an Entertaining but Familiar Sequel.
In Gladiator II, Ridley Scott returns to the grand, brutal world of Ancient Rome, crafting an epic that echoes the intensity and scale of the original Oscar-winning Gladiator. This sequel, set 15 years after the events of the 2000 film, features Paul Mescal in a leading role, alongside Denzel Washington in a performance that steals the show with his commanding presence. They’re joined by Pedro Pascal, Joseph Quinn, and Connie Nielsen in a gripping cast that brings this sword-and-sandal epic to life.
At 86, Scott shows no signs of slowing down, proving he’s still among the few directors willing to tackle projects of such scale and physical intensity. Gladiator II immerses viewers again in the harsh, intricately crafted world of Ancient Rome, delivering on the grandiosity and visceral action that defined the original. From epic battle sequences to intricately choreographed sword fights, Scott orchestrates a spectacle brimming with a Roman epic’s hallmarks: fierce combat, political intrigue, and high-stakes drama. Fans of the first Gladiator will find much to love in the return to this brutal, beautifully constructed cinematic world.
The new film carries an undeniable sense of déjà vu, a dedication to the original that feels almost confining. This familiarity goes beyond the brutal scenes of caged men forced into deadly combat and seeps into the very core of the story, which remains deeply indebted to its predecessor.
Following his work on Napoleon and All the Money in the World for Ridley Scott, David Scarpa’s screenplay often resembles more of a remake than a sequel. The script mirrors David Franzoni’s original Gladiator nearly beat for beat, with most characters seeming like direct echoes of those in the first film.
Take, for instance, the character of the master of ceremonies at the gladiatorial games. In Gladiator, David Hemmings memorably played this role as the flamboyant Cassius, sporting a curly red wig that seemed to hint at something between comic relief and camp. This time, the role goes to Matt Lucas, who replays a familiar persona reminiscent of his Great British Bake Off antics, now dressed in a Roman toga. The effect is strikingly similar, raising the question: is Scott implying that the Colosseum’s master of ceremonies was a job reserved for flamboyant personalities in Ancient Rome?
The film truly comes alive when it dares to break away from the shadow of its predecessor, an effect that hits full force whenever Denzel Washington appears on screen. Washington commands attention in his role as Macrinus, a formerly enslaved person turned savvy and power-hungry gladiator manager. Macrinus is an intelligent, calculating figure who has climbed from captivity to luxury, deftly manipulating his stable of gladiators to fund his ambitions for ever-greater influence and wealth. Washington delivers a captivating performance, infusing Macrinus with sly humour and an almost chilling authority, transforming the character into a formidable force.
Clad in lavish, multi-hued robes designed by Janty Yates and adorned with intricate jewellery, Macrinus evokes memories of Oliver Reed’s iconic Proximo from the original Gladiator. Yet Washington brings his magnetic presence, imbuing Macrinus with a potent charisma and a wit so sharp that he feels less like a mere tribute and more like a character deserving of his film. His portrayal of this self-made schemer with grand designs leaves a powerful impression long after he exits the screen.
In contrast, Paul Mescal takes on the film’s new protagonist role, stepping into the sandals once worn by Russell Crowe’s Maximus. Here, Mescal plays Lucius, the exiled son of Maximus and Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), now grown into a formidable fighter in his own right. Mescal has physically transformed for the role, bringing a rugged, muscular presence that makes him entirely believable as a seasoned gladiator. However, while Mescal certainly embodies the part physically, his portrayal occasionally feels restrained, with an emotional range that leans heavily on intense, brooding anger. This narrower focus on simmering rage lacks some depth and nuance that made Crowe’s Maximus compelling, making Mescal’s Lucius seem slightly one-dimensional.
Ultimately, Washington’s dynamic Macrinus injects the film with much of its energy and intrigue. At the same time, Mescal’s Lucius anchors the story with a quiet intensity that, while effective, may not entirely match the towering legacy of Maximus.
The limitations in the portrayal of Lucius may be less the fault of the actor and more a result of Scarpa’s screenplay, which provides limited material for Mescal to work with outside of the visceral scenes in the Colosseum. When he’s not emerging from the shadowed depths of the arena to confront warriors and beasts or rile up the bloodthirsty audience, there isn’t much that challenges or surprises. Until the powerful final act, Lucius’ character arc feels overly familiar, hitting predictable beats rather than developing in an unexpected direction. Mescal, a remarkable and charismatic actor, certainly brings his intensity and presence to the role. Yet, there’s a lingering sense that Lucius might not be an ideal fit for him, even though he tackles the part with remarkable vigour and commitment.
Some of Mescal’s strongest scenes occur in Lucius’ more reflective moments, especially in his quiet conversations with Ravi (Alexander Karim), a formerly enslaved person and gladiator who, after winning his freedom, chose to remain behind as the Colosseum’s physician, tending to the wounded combatants. Ravi’s role is strikingly similar to Djimon Hounsou’s Juba, who served as a mentor and confidant to Maximus in the first film. Karim and Mescal share a palpable warmth and gentle humour. Through their connection, we gain rare glimpses into Lucius’ interior world that go beyond the anger and intensity he displays elsewhere. These moments offer a welcome contrast, allowing Mescal to show a softer, more nuanced side of Lucius.
In contrast, the scenes between Lucius and his mother revisit familiar territory, echoing the dynamics of Lucilla and Maximus in the original. Once again, Lucilla struggles to regain the trust of an estranged loved one—first her former lover and now her son—who has returned to Rome, embittered and seeking retribution. This repetitive framing points to a broader issue with the script, which often resorts to lazy storytelling, recycling themes and scenarios from the original film rather than innovating upon them.
Having been sent away from Rome at twelve for his protection, Lucius was raised in the North African province of Numidia, where he became a respected military leader. He is married to Arishat (Yuval Gonen), a skilled archer who serves alongside him in the Numidian forces, and their relationship offers glimpses of a more balanced life before the unfolding tragedy. The film opens with an electrifying battle scene as a fleet of Roman warships led by General Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal) launches a brutal siege on Lucius’ outpost, capturing the fortress and decimating its inhabitants. This high-stakes beginning raises expectations for a story of fresh conflicts and complex character arcs, yet, disappointingly, much of the narrative remains confined to well-trodden paths.
After a brutal defeat, Lucius is among the survivors captured and taken to Rome, where he finds himself under the control of Macrinus and his ruthless gladiator trainer, Vigo (Lior Raz). Grieving a devastating loss, Lucius swears vengeance against the man responsible, the mighty General Acacius.
Thrown into the Colosseum for his first terrifying fight, Lucius faces a deadly spectacle, joining fellow captives branded as “barbarians.” Among them is a wounded Numidian chieftain (Peter Mensah), with whom he forms an uneasy alliance. Their opponents are a pack of ferocious baboons—an attempt at exotic entertainment for the bloodthirsty crowd. However, the creatures are rendered with subpar CGI in an otherwise well-crafted production. Impressed by Lucius’ resilience and simmering rage, Macrinus recognises a promising gladiator. He encourages Lucius to channel his anger into thrilling victories that will captivate the Roman audience, promising that if Lucius fights well enough, he may one day stand face-to-face with his nemesis, Acacius.
Meanwhile, Acacius, a respected and loyal general, yearns only to return to his wife, Lucilla, and the quiet life he has fought to earn. However, the brutal rule of the co-emperors, Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger), threatens any hope of peace. With their sights set on expanding Rome’s empire into Persia and India, the emperors demand continued campaigns, disregarding the mounting toll on Roman soldiers.
Disturbed by the endless bloodshed and the emperors’ tyranny, Acacius and Lucilla secretly convene with a select group of senators, including the wise and seasoned Gracchus (Derek Jacobi, reprising his role from the earlier film). Together, they begin to conspire, envisioning a Rome restored to the people, free from the emperors’ despotic grip. This vision honours the legacy of Lucilla’s father, the late Emperor Marcus Aurelius (Richard Harris in the previous film), whose dream was of a Rome governed by its citizens, not enslaved to the ambitions of corrupt rulers.
When Lucilla realises that Lucius is her long-lost son, she faces a harrowing decision: whether to support her husband’s rebellion or prioritise her son’s safety. This conflict places her in extreme danger, especially as the threat from her husband’s defiant stance and the imperial family’s instability escalates. Geta, increasingly resentful of the rebellious gladiator’s growing popularity with the masses, becomes more volatile. Meanwhile, the syphilitic Caracalla spirals deeper into madness, trusting no one but his pet monkey as paranoia consumes him.
Speaking of imperial madness, Gladiator previously set a high standard with Joaquin Phoenix’s unforgettable portrayal of Commodus, the unloved son of Marcus Aurelius. Phoenix crafted Commodus as a deeply disturbed character; a man weighed down by bitterness and an insatiable need for validation. Consumed by jealousy of Maximus, a general who earned his father’s affection, Commodus loathes his rival, fears Lucilla’s young son, Lucius, as a potential heir to the throne, and harbours an incestuous obsession with his sister. Phoenix’s edge-of-madness performance provided an electrifying antagonist for Russell Crowe’s Maximus and was critical to the film’s emotional stakes.
In contrast, the portrayal of Geta and Caracalla is darkly comic, with Quinn and Hechinger delivering outrageously unhinged performances. The two actors make the rival emperors caricatures of petulance, capturing them as vicious yet buffoonish man-children. Ridley Scott’s choice to draw on Beavis and Butt-Head as reference points for these characters becomes impossible to ignore, creating an unsettlingly absurd dynamic between the two. However, their overt foolishness often reduces the sense of threat, making them seem almost too ridiculous to be genuinely menacing.
A far more complex figure in this story is Acacius, played by Pedro Pascal, with a striking mix of honour and restraint. Acacius is a principled man, drawing a line when it comes to perpetuating the endless cycle of violence that the insatiable emperors demand. His moral stance and Pascal’s commanding physical presence make him a formidable presence on screen. There’s a tragic nobility to Acacius, particularly when Lucius realises that he misjudged this honourable figure too late. Pascal’s portrayal adds an emotional depth, creating a notable absence in the film once his character is no longer part of the narrative.
Once Lucius uncovers the master manipulator Macrinus as his natural enemy, the film ignites, reaching a thrilling crescendo with their showdown outside the city gates. Denzel Washington captivates as Macrinus, playing the part with a calculated coolness that masks his character’s ruthless ambition. His portrayal is magnetic, embodying greed and ambition with an intensity that’s darkly humorous and undeniably compelling. Across from him, Mescal’s Lucius comes into his own, realising that his destiny is not to dismantle Rome but to rescue it. This evolution deepens Lucius’ character, adding a retroactive weight that transforms the role.
True to the best historical dramas, the story offers plenty of timely political analogies, particularly relevant after the fiercely contested U.S. presidential election. Regardless of perspective, both sides of today’s political spectrum could see aspects of themselves in this narrative about liberating an empire from corrupt, self-serving rulers. Yet, despite the intrigue and occasional electrifying moments, the plot feels overly familiar, borrowing from a well-worn template that, while exciting, reveals a faint sense of staleness upon close inspection.
However, Director Ridley Scott’s main focus seems to be on delivering grander, more spectacular action sequences, leveraging the vast technological advancements since Gladiator was first released 24 years ago. This leap in digital effects enables him to realise previously impractical concepts, like a fierce battle in which gladiators face off against an armed warrior on a charging rhinoceros.
Scott openly prioritises spectacle over strict historical accuracy, especially in scenes like the vividly staged naval combat in a flooded Colosseum arena, where wounded fighters fall into shark-infested waters. While historians confirm the arena was sometimes flooded, little evidence supports encounters with sharks or rhinos. Yet, for a film aimed at thrilling audiences, these details only add to the adrenaline rush, and for that reason alone, accuracy feels like a small sacrifice.
Despite its lavish directorial flair, Gladiator II impresses with remarkable attention to period detail. The film showcases extensive sets built in Malta, where much of it was shot. Cinematographer John Mathieson and production designer Arthur Max, both of whom worked on Gladiator, return to lend their expertise to the sequel. Costume designer Janty Yates, another Gladiator alum, enriches the visual world with meticulously crafted costumes, complemented by David Crossman’s vast assortment of military and gladiatorial attire.
While no single image quite rivals the haunting beauty of Maximus’ hand sweeping through a wheat field or his vision of reuniting with his family in the original film, Gladiator II delivers memorable, evocative visuals. Among these is a striking shot of men raking sand on the arena floor in preparation for a contest, adding a tactile quality to the spectacle. Another standout is a beautifully animated sequence that recaps scenes from the first movie, almost like an extension of the Scott Free Productions logo, blending homage with painterly artistry.
As he also demonstrated with sweeping scenes in Napoleon, Scott thrives when orchestrating vast crowds and brutal, blood-soaked battles. Harry Gregson-Williams’ powerful, high-drama score enhances the grand scale of these scenes and amplifies the intensity of the action. Although the film may lack a protagonist with Russell Crowe’s fierce presence as Maximus, it compensates with a wealth of visual splendour and operatic violence that fans of the original will undoubtedly relish.
Overall: 8/10
Movie Reviewer
