Rating: B-
Dir: Ridley Scott
Star: Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington, Pedro Pascal, Connie Nielsen
This long-delayed sequel was not exactly a film anyone was demanding, or was necessary. There have been quite a few of those lately, studios brushing off their old properties, following the success of Top Gun: Maverick. None have matched its feat of improving on the original. Some have proven especially pointless. This isn’t that bad. If you’ve not seen Gladiator, it would certainly pass muster, delivering impressive spectacle, political melodrama and sharks with frickin’ laser beams attached to their heads. OK, the last is a bit of an exaggeration – albeit less than you may think. If you have seen the original, though, this might feel like a slightly lower tier in the Scott filmography.
16 years after Maximus Decimus Meridius died in the arena, there’s a certain amount of retread here. Instead of Russell Crowe as the warrior sold into slavery, and forced to fight in the Colosseum, it’s Mescal as Hanno. He – and it’s hardly a spoiler – might have some DNA in common with Maximus. Hanno joins the stable of fighters belonging to Macrinus (Washington), who aspires to power beyond his station. He’s not the only one unhappy with Rome being run by twisted twin Emperors, Geta and Caracalla. Because if one perverse and effeminate Emperor is good, then the sequel believes two would be better, of course. Lucille (Nielsen – she and Derek Jacobi are the only returning major cast members) is plotting with Acacius (Mescal) to overthrow the twins. Hanno wants revenge on Acacius, the general who invaded his homeland.
This seeks to make up for in spectacle, what it lacks in emotional impact, a flaw largely dropped at the feet of Mescal. He rarely achieves the intensity reached by Crowe, and the loss of his family members didn’t provoke much more than a shrug. It’s more fun to watch the machinations of Macrinus, as he works behind the scenes to get the ear of the Emperors. Literally, hohoho. Though I guess he is still outranked by a monkey, one of the many ways in which the film plays fast and loose with history. Mind you, it’s more restrained than the Nick Cave sequel script, subtitled Christ Killer, which saw Maximus resurrected as a time-travelling assassin. I’m not kidding.
Interestingly, Cave’s script does flood the Colosseum for a naval battle, a scene we get here – with added sharks, because why not? No complaints about the spectacle. It feels bloodier than the original, perhaps taking influence from the Spartacus series (I note one of its stars, Peter Mensah, has a role here), and there’s a visceral quality to the action that is effective. Yet arguably, the hand-to-hand battles from the original had more impact that Hanno vs. a war rhino. This does run a tad long, and I cannot say the ending resonates with the same amplitude. It’s where Mescal’s deficiencies when put beside Crowe, may be most obvious. Still, was I not entertained? Why, yes, I was – at least adequately, thank you for asking.