Gladiator II: Entertaining, ridiculous blockbusting
Review Overview
Cast
8Spectacle
9Consistency
6Ivan Radford | On 19, Jan 2025
Director: Ridley Scott
Cast: Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington, Pedro Pascal, Connie Nielsen, Joseph Quinn, Fred Hechinger, Alexander Karim, Tim McInnerny
Certificate: 15
“Is this how Rome treats its heroes?” bellows Lucius (Paul Mescal) in the middle of the Colosseum. The year is 200AD. It’s been 16 years since Marcus Aurelius died, with Rome now ruled by twin brothers Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger). Its army is headed up by the fearsome general Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal), who is prepared to unleash hell upon Rome’s enemies. Unfortunately, he unleashes it upon Numidia, north Africa, where Lucius and his wife, Arishat, live. One decimating opening battle later, and Lucius has lost everything – and is ready to have his vengeance.
Whisked away to Rome as a slave, Lucius finds the opportunity to avenge his home and family by training as a gladiator under the wing of the calculating Macrinus (Denzel Washington), who promises him Acacius’ head when the time comes. But the more time he spends in the arena, the more complicated things get, as the past begins to echo in the present, and legacies and loyalties shape everyone’s actions. Even before then, though, deja vu has firmly set in, as David Scarpa’s script tries its hardest to retread the same beats as Ridley Scott’s original Gladiator.
The 2000 epic was a remarkable piece of cinema, boiling down a massive tale to a grizzled story of one man getting even. Gladiator II desperately wants to recapture that lightning in a bottle magic, fuelled by a career-defining turn from Russell Crowe as Maximus. Inevitably, it can’t. Paul Mescal has always been good at brooding and brings that quality to the glowering Lucius. Bulked up and charismatic, he’s a strong leading man, there’s no doubt – but he’s also given a character whose motivations get more muddled the bigger Scarpa’s canvas tries to become. What starts as a stripped-down revenge thriller grows into a political saga about returning Rome to its people, which doesn’t sit naturally on Lucius’ shoulders.
The supporting cast are all having a ball, particularly Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger as the petulant twin rulers, but also Pedro Pascal as the ruthless target of Lucius’ hate, Derek Jacobi as the returning politician Gracchus and Connie Nielsen reprising her role as the resilient and conflicted Lucilla. Tim McInnerny is as wonderful as always as a gambling senator, while Alexander Karim brings grit and warmth to former gladiator Ravi.
But they are each eclipsed by an impeccable Denzel Washington, who is magnetic as Macrinus, a scheming grifter who eyes a path to power and isn’t afraid to race down it. He breezes through the dusty streets like a man out of time, delivering every line with an energy that’s thrillingly unpredictable – he’s like a modern politician pulling the period strings of everyone around him with relish. It’s Washington who ends up grounding the whole endeavour, selling the film’s shift into its second act and emerging as a worthy counterpart to Mescal’s muscular fighter.
Scott, meanwhile, throws all this together with a kinetic momentum that belies the film’s length. If Gladiator’s 155-minute runtime worked because it was so lean, Gladiator II’s 148 minutes work because he keeps throwing more things at the screen – including a jaw-dropping sequence that sees the Colosseum filled with water (and sharks) for a recreation of an ancient battle. Is it historically accurate? No. Very little of it is, although Rome was briefly ruled by twins Geta and Carcalla (whose personalities and fates were very different to those we see here). But what does that matter in the service of such enjoyable spectacle? Who doesn’t want to see Ben-Hur crossed with Deep Blue Sea? Scott’s ability to pull together gigantic tapestries that feel convincing is undiminished 25 years on.
There’s a faintly tragic note to the film’s intentional homage to its ancestor: both Maximus and Lucius learn that, no matter their political or personal leanings, they’re still forced to turn to violence and kill for the sake of the crowd. While we all miss the swaggering purpose of Maximus, his absence becomes almost fitting as the brutality escalates, and his question from 2000 still rings true in our heroes: are we not entertained?