In 2021,
a couple of Philly ex-con lunkheads like Ray Driscoll and Manny Carvalho do not
have many opportunities for gainful employment while the world slowly rouses
from the COVID shutdown. Conveniently, there was one business that did not observe
closure mandates: drug trafficking. Posing as DEA agents, the duo shakedown
marginal drug houses not affiliated with the major cartels. However, Covid
still wreaked havoc on the illicit supply chains nearly as much as it did for
legal trade. Consequently, when Driscoll and Carvalho unknowingly knock over a
big-time meth lab, it ignites a whole lot of trouble for the product-hungry gang
and even more so for themselves in creator Peter Craig’s eight-episode Dope
Thief, which premieres today on Apple TV+.
Driscoll
is in denial, but Carvalho recognizes this is what they do. They are not Robin
Hoods. Shadowy Son Pham put them in business with fake DEA badges and bullet
proof vests. They keep the cash and he flips the drugs they “confiscate.” It
usually works out well, until Carvlho’s recently released friend Ricky suggests
a score way outside their usual territory.
It soon
becomes evident Ricky set them up when their fake bust turns into a blood bath.
Driscoll and Carvalho shoot several meth heads in self-defense, including,
rather awkwardly, an undercover Fed. They thought they’d also killed Mina, another
undercover agent, but somehow, she slipped away, with a bullet lodged in her
throat. Unfortunately, they cannot interrogate Ricky, who also took a fatal
bullet. Even worse, the sinister mastermind who keeps calling Driscoll clearly
knows who they are—and who they care about.
For
Driscoll, that only means Theresa Bowers, his jailbird father Bart’s
tough-talking girlfriend, who has raised Ray like a son. He pretends to hate his
incarcerated dad, but his feelings are clearly more conflicted than he lets on.
He even agrees to work with Michelle Taylor, a pro bono lawyer trying to secure
Bart’s compassionate release, at Bower’s request. He will probably need her
services, as the cartels, biker gangs, and the real DEA all start circling him.
Dope
Thief starts off
with a bang. Perhaps not so coincidentally, the first episode also happens to
be directed by executive producer Ridley Scott. Frankly, he probably should
have adapted Dennis Tafoya’s source novel as a feature film. Episodes one and
two are gritty and tense, but the middle installments are bloated and sometimes
even a little aimless. The entire subplot focusing on Mina’s recovery and quest
for not exactly revenge but something sort of like that clearly feel like
padding—even though Marin Ireland is quite good in the role. These detours just
take the audience too far away from Driscoll and the ominous voice (who
sometimes falls silent for full episodes).
On the
other hand, Dustin Nguyen is a shockingly quiet scene-stealer, who often upstages
his flashier co-stars as Pham, the suburban family-man gangster, whose complicated
relationship with Driscoll incorporates both loyalty and exploitation. As Driscoll, Brian Tyree Henry develops
terrific chemistry with multiple cast members, definitely including Nguyen.
Yet, his work alongside the wonderful Kate Mulgrew, as Bowers, really gives the
series a lot of heart. This is really some of Mulgrew’s best work yet.
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.
