Gladiator II Review

Director Ridley Scott's mega-sequel catches Rome at yet another moment of upheaval: sixteen years after the legendary fight between Emperor Commodus and General Maximus at the Colosseum, which left both dead, Rome is now ruled by the eccentric, freewheeling emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger), one of whom keeps a tittering, dressed-up dwarf monkey named Dondus as a pet. The Colosseum's barracks are packed with gladiators, and the bloody games are in full swing. Aurelius's Dream of Rome - as a republic ruled by laws - has been all but forgotten.

While the original Gladiator was a gritty tale of revenge, Gladiator II is a slower-moving political drama featuring a chessboard of characters, each eager to enact their vision for Rome's future. Among them are General Antonius (Pedro Pascal) and his wife Lucilla (Connie Nielsen, reprising her role), who conspire with the Senate to stage a coup. There are those who want to see the Roman Republic restored; others that want to ruin it. And then there's Macrinus (Denzel Washington), a charismatic Master of Gladiators who enters the city with a secret ambition that unfolds in startling bursts of action. In his ownership is Hanno, a prisoner from North Africa known to the people as the Spaniard - though he is, in fact, Lucius, the long-lost son of Lucilla and the true heir to Rome.

The film can't quite decide if Lucius is meant to be a complex character in his own right or a reincarnation of Maximus. Screenwriter David Scarpa tries to straddle both ideas rather unsuccessfully. First, Lucius is driven by a thirst for revenge against Antonius - which is itself a hollow motivation tied to an underdeveloped relationship with his wife, Arihat, who is killed in the opening battle. But when his rage dissipates, it's quickly replaced by vague patriotism. The story never quite finds solid ground, weighed down by sprawling threads: an army poised to storm Rome, a slick political operator threatening to topple the empire, and a protagonist who never truly comes into focus and out of the shadow of its legacy.

While the story may have slipped, Scott's visual craftsmanship is sharper than ever. Two decades of technical progress give him room to play with the gladiatorial arena, which now stages battles not only between men, but with a giant African rhino, a horde of feral apes, and, in one particularly inventive sequence, sharks - thanks to a flooded Colosseum staging a naval clash. Some of these additions are striking, but not all land. The computer-generated apes, for instance, feel jarringly out of place in Ancient Rome, especially when set against the more authentic elements - the dense crowds, the dust, and the raw brutality of the fights.

The film's showstopper scene isn't in the arena but on the battlefield - the opening naval siege between Roman troops and an African city. It's a thrilling, visceral sequence - exquisitely realistic and with meticulously choreographed action sequences. Men are violently slammed against fortress walls, and burst into flames as fiery cannonballs tear through the lower decks of Roman ships.

Paul Mescal, meant to anchor the film, struggles to escape the comparisons with Russell Crowe's formidable performance. The story constantly ties Lucius to Maximus, invoking the "glory days" at every turn, burdening him with his predecessor's legacy, unable to forge his own path. His character remains elusive, revealed only through dull exchanges with his medic or vague, uninspired visions of the afterlife. In contrast, Macrinus commands the story with confidence and clarity of purpose. Denzel Washington brings effortless charisma to the role, his swagger and purpose recalling the magnetism that made Russell unforgettable.

In the end, Gladiator II is a film caught between honouring its predecessor while finding its own unique point of view. The sprawling narrative, which attempts to juggle political intrigue, personal vendettas and a shifting power dynamic, often loses its focus, and leaves the story feeling fragmented - as though entire chunks of it have gone missing.

But letting us be consoled by a corner of unexpected levity and joy that this self-serious film gives us is the scene-stealing Dondus, the monkey which briefly finds itself as the second most powerful being of the Roman Empire.