Although the lengthy gap between this film and director Ridley Scott’s predecessor seems an eyebrow lift, scripters David Scarpa and Peter Craig cleverly work that passage of time into their plot.
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| Although Lucius (Paul Mescal) isn't expected to survive his first bout in the Coliseum, he proves unexpectedly resourceful ... much to the delight of the crowd, which has long thirsted for a new champion. |
Alas, things didn’t turn out that way; Rome has come under the rule of sadistic twin emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger). They’re reckless, with no sense of history, and believe in chaos, violence and conquest for its own sake. Their Roman Empire exists solely to expand its borders, pillaging every culture in its path, and forcing survivors to fight for their lives in the Colosseum.
Their realm’s citizens are in a very, very bad way. Rome has failed its people; Geta and Caracalla couldn’t care less. They’re vain, decadent, hedonistic and quite mad; Geta is a diabolical schemer, while Caracalla — never without his beloved pet monkey, Dundus — is completely unhinged.
Quinn and Hechinger plunge into these roles with unrestrained enthusiasm, making the twin emperors flat-out scary, unpredictable and detestable.
The story begins as their favorite warrior, Gen. Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal), leads the Roman navy across the sea to conquer the coastal realm of Numidia, where Lucius (Paul Mescal) farms with his beloved wife, Arishat (Yuval Gonen).
(Viewers with good memories will recognize the name Lucius.)
He and Arishat join the forces protecting their walled city, in a jaw-dropping action sequence orchestrated by Scott, production designer Arthur Max, special effects supervisor Neil Corbould, visual effects supervisor Mark Bakowski, and supervising sound editors Matthew Collinge and Danny Sheehan.
The melee lasts almost 20 minutes, with a barrage of battle galleons, swords, bows, knives, catapults, trebuchets, flaming projectiles and what seems like thousands of warriors. It’s awesome.
Alas, things doesn’t go well for Lucius. He and the other male Numidian survivors are carted to a rigorous — and deadly — gladiator training camp run by the formidable Viggo (Lior Raz, who has a marvelous scowl).
Lucius soon catches the attention of Macrinus (Denzel Washington), an ambitious Roman businessman with an eye for talent. He senses opportunity in this angry, vengeful young man; they form a pact, of sorts, to serve both their goals.
At first blush, Macrinus seems a preening, charismatic “provider” who’s greatly amused by everything and everybody ... but his eyes are hard, and his outward manner clearly an act. Washington’s performance is Shakespearean in its duplicity and complexity; Macrinus senses and exploits weakness, as with the way he takes advantage of the ill-advised gambling by Senator Thraex (Tim McInnerny), who’s totally blind to how he’s being played.
Behind the scenes, Acacius has become sickened by how, as a servant of his mad twin emperors, he has become such an instrument of death and destruction. Alongside his wife, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen, reprising her role from the first film), he joins a clandestine conspiracy to unseat the emperors, and return rule to nobler senators such as Gracchus (Derek Jacobi, also returning from the first film).
Although Mescal has the most visible role, as the titular character and warrior on whom we pin our hopes, Pascal has the more complex performance. Acacius’ ruthless battlefield behavior during the siege of Numidia brands him a villain — certainly in Lucius’ eyes — but it isn’t that simple. During Acacius’ private moments, with Lucilla, Pascal’s haunted gaze is the look of a man who finally realizes, however reluctantly, that “doing his duty” is shameful and immoral.
For her part, Lucilla plays a very dangerous game. As the daughter of Marcus Aurelius, she’s a celebrated and highly visible figurehead, tolerated by Geta and Caracalla because the citizens revere her. But they neither like nor trust her; Geta, in particularly, wishes for a good reason to eliminate her.
(As was the case with the 2000 film, Lucilla, Geta, Caracalla and a few other key characters are lifted from history ... although their behavior here obviously is mostly fictitious.)
Scarpa and Craig deftly sketch these numerous character interactions, which keep matters intriguing; as a result, the film never flags during its 148-minute run time. Even minor relationships are engaging, as with the friendship that develops between Lucius and Ravi (Alexander Karim), a former gladiator turned healer; and the blossoming camaraderie that Lucius builds with his fellow warriors, most of whom remain nameless.
As was true of Crowe’s Maximus, Lucius soon realizes that it can be advantageous to “win the crowd” during combat.
Those sequences also are quite impressive. Three are showpieces: a melee against enraged feral baboons; a seemingly one-sided match involving a rhinoceros controlled by the heavily armed Glyceo the Destroyer (Chris Hallaways); and a naval battle between two ships in the flooded Coliseum. (Although we understand that the rhino can’t possibly be real, it sure as heck looks and moves authentically.)
Military costume designer David Crossman did herculean work, with more than 2,000 outfits for soldiers, centurions, supervising officers, the Praetorian Guard, and several distinct types of gladiators.
The action is powered further by Harry Gregson-Williams’ rousing score.
The result, overall, is old-style epic filmmaking on a scale we rarely see these days. Although unlikely to pull its predecessor’s 12 Oscar nominations — and five wins, including Best Picture — Scott’s return to ancient Rome does not disappoint.
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