The Romans built some astounding aqueducts, but nobody cares. We’re just
interested in the bloodsport of the Colosseum and the hedonism of their
bacchanals. Viewers should be happy to hear Ridley Scott’s sequel to his
Oscar-winning Gladiator is an aqueduct-free zone, but it has plenty of the
other stuff. Politically, Rome has gone from bad to worse, but it retains its
military might. However, an enslaved warrior like Lucius could prove Rome’s
downfall in Scott’s Gladiator II, which opens Friday pretty much
everywhere.
Marcus
Acacius is a loyal general of Rome, so he conquers the North African kingdom of
Numidia as his twin Emperors ordered, even though the carnage sickens him. Of
course, the captured Lucius cannot see his inner turmoil, just his commanding
presence, so he vows vengeance against Acacius as his proxy for the Roman Empire.
Macrinus
happily promises Lucius the opportunity for payback sometime in the future. The
former slave turned powerbroker recognizes the value of Lucius’s anger as the
star attraction of his stable of gladiators. He also has his own reasons for
wishing misfortune on Acacius.
As
fate would have it, Acacius is the current lover of Lucilla, the daughter of
the late Marcus Aurelius, Rome’s last decent emperor. Her former lover, Maximus
Decimus Meridius (a.k.a. Russell Crowe) sacrificed himself to protect her son Lucius
Verus from her brother, the tyrannical Emperor Commodus. Of course, as soon as
Lucilla sees Macrinus’s Lucius, she knows he is her Lucius.
As
bad as Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix) was, the mad co-emperors Geta and Caracalla
are even worse. Rome would be much better off if Acacius, Lucilla, and
distinguished elder statesmen like Senator Gracchus (Derek Jacobi, the only
other holdover from the first film) plot a successful revolt, but Macrinus
conspires against them for his own perverse reasons, using Lucius as a pawn.
Thanks
to Connie Nielsen’s return as Lucilla, Gladiator II should satisfy fans
of the original film, by fulfilling the destiny of the child she gave up so
much to protect. Ironically, those who have not seen the first film recently, might
instead be struck by the similarities to Peacock’s Those About to Die. Both
feature social climbers using their control of a gladiator faction to gain the
trust of unhinged emperors, but in the streaming series, viewers are expected
to root for the roguish Tanax, while Macrinus is flamboyantly but irredeemably
villainous. (Coincidently, both productions also flood the Colosseum, forcing
the gladiators to face off against sharks in special naval-themed spectacles.)
Frankly,
Paul Mescal does a nice job filling Crowe’s sandals, but the real stars of Gladiator
II are Nielsen and Denzel Washington as Lady Lucilla and devious Macrinus. She
provides the apostolic connection to the first film, while conveying the
classically tragic dimensions to her maternal woe, whereas Washington is just
fun to watch.
Vespasian is considered one of the better emperors (especially compared to Nero),
but his death was fast approaching in the year 79 A.D. It will take almost 400
years for Rome to fall, but you might assume the Roman Empire’s days are also
limited from the riots and corruption plaguing Roman society. Fortunately for
the elites, blood sport still keeps the mob distracted, at least to an extent,
but that sure makes it rough to be a gladiator in creator Robert Rodat’s
10-part Those About to Die, which premieres today on Peacock.
Vespasian
subjugated Judea, but his oldest son and presumptive heir, Titus Flavianus, has
taken the Judean Queen as his consort. Rome has not exactly welcomed her with
open arms, but the locals are often hostile to new arrivals from the far-flung
corners of the Empire.
That
is even more true for Cala and her children from North Africa. When the
youngest daughter, Jula, is assaulted by a Centurion, her older sister, Aura
fatally defends her honor. Immediately, she is consigned into slavery as her
punishment. Their unfortunate older brother Kwame suffers the same fate when he
objects.
Off
to Rome they go, but Cala follows with Jula, determined to buy their freedom.
Unfortunately, Aura is purchased by the wife of Marsus, a powerful and perverse
senator, who covets the emperor’s laurels for himself. Ironically, Kwame opts
for a life as a gladiator, because they have a higher life expectancy than
slaves sent to the mines. Obviously, buying the freedom of either children will
not be an option in their current stations, so Cala’s bides her time working in
the gambling salon operated by Tenax, the focal anti-hero.
Tenax
has a plan to challenge Rome’s social and economic order by starting a fifth
chariot racing faction. He has the best driver, Scorpus a hedonistic but winning
charioteer based on a historical figure. He also has four deceptively small but
incredibly fast and strong horses, purchased from three Andalusian brothers,
who intend to stay in Rome to build careers as horse-trainers (at least that
was the secret intention of the elder two and they figure their baby bro will
reluctantly stay, despite his discomfort with Roman ways).
However,
Tenax needs a powerful silent partner to convince the Emperor to grant the Gold
Faction’s charter. Titus’s psychotic younger brother Domitian Flavianus is
perfectly placed to do just that. He resents his father designating Titus as
his heir. The younger Flavianus also needs money quickly, to cover his mounting
debts and the gold he embezzled from the treasury. Consequently, agrees to Tenax’s
proposal, but he makes no secret of his contempt for the grubby commoner.
Likewise, he clearly takes an instant dislike to Kwame when he observes the
gladiator in training.
Rodat’s
loose adaption of the book by Daniel P. Mannix (who also wrote the source novel
for Disney’s The Fox and the Hound), definitely leans into the decadent
and violent aspects of Flavian Rome. The scenes of gladiatorial combat are far
more graphic than anything seen in Ridley Scott’s Gladiator, while the
many sex scenes (of multiple persuasions) leave nothing to the imagination. At
times, it almost feels like a starter kit for Caligula. However, it is anchored
by a powerful story of a mother fighting for her children’s freedom.
That
unironic pursuit of freedom makes Those About to Die superior to the Spartacus
series, which can never be forgiven for turning the iconic battle-cry of
solidarity, “I am Spartacus,” into a self-aggrandizing howl of personal
affirmation. However, the new series still represents a decidedly mixed bag.
One
of the best aspects of Rodat’s adaptation is the messy, overlapping, and
sometimes contradictory nature of the alliances. Sometimes, by working against
their sworn enemies, characters cause complications for transactional allies,
which leads to further problems down the line.
