What happened with the good old blockbusters? When Gladiator was released in 2000, during a golden age of mega productions like Titanic (1997) or The Lord of the Rings (2001–2003), it was the perfect artefact of its time – a sort of Platonic ideal of a blockbuster. Despite its flaws, it was the complete package: spectacle and digital effects, great masculine ideals wrapped in a neoclassical style, Oscar-worthy performances, a Hans Zimmer score (well, of course, how else?), and dozens of quotes still alive in pop culture today – from iconic images to at least two Pepsi ads. Ask the first man you bump into, and he’ll recite from memory: “My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, and loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my revenge, in this life or the next.”

Gladiator was also a complete film – it ended exactly where it should. Maximus (Russell Crowe) fulfilled his destiny and achieved metaphorical freedom in the afterlife. Nothing about it demanded a sequel. And yet, nearly 25 years later, Gladiator II has arrived.

Inevitably, it’s hard to measure up to a film so deeply ingrained in the early 2000s entertainment canon. But the new iteration doesn’t even seem to try – or, perhaps, the issue is the opposite: Ridley Scott’s latest effort tries to be too much – more bombastic! crazier! trendier! – than its predecessor but ends up exhausting itself in a scattered, hollow story. You might think “more” looks good on the big screen – after all, that’s the magic of blockbusters – but despite Scott’s extravaganza with CGI sharks and naval battles, Gladiator II has no theatrical appeal. I felt more impressed (more entertained, to give Maximus his due) rewatching the original at home on Netflix, partly because it doesn’t scream glossy digital backgrounds.

Set 16 years after the events of the first film in an empire ruled by two co-Augusti even more unhinged than Joaquin Phoenix’s Commodus, Gladiator II follows Lucius, aka Hanno (Paul Mescal), captured during the siege of Numidia and brought to the Roman arenas as a slave to fulfil his destiny of vengeance and become another model of the ideal warrior. Initially driven by the invasion and his wife’s death, Lucius’ obsessive gesture of running ears of wheat through his fingers and grabbing dirt from the Colosseum is a not-so-subtle nod to his true story as the empire’s lost prince. The screenplay sticks close to the original, suffocating itself with its own umbilical cord, regurgitating mise-en-scènes, motifs, and lines from its predecessor – chiefly ‘strength and honour’ – to please loyal fans who remember them.

Beyond mirroring Maximus, the script can’t decide what it wants Lucius to be. At times, he’s a ripped brute driven by rage, growling and biting wild animals; at others, he’s a socialist poet, reciting Virgil and critiquing the empire’s genocidal expansions while yearning for an egalitarian society and a better Rome. These decolonial ambitions and social commentary, awkwardly shoehorned into the production, are abruptly abandoned midway through, along with Lucius’s hatred for Rome. His character becomes inconsistent and contradictory as the unsubtle “Wait, that’s his dad!” subplot kicks off with the reappearance of Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), Commodus’s sister and Maximus’s old love.

Scott had a stroke of brilliance in casting Mescal, yet he didn’t quite know what to do with him. However, it’s undeniable that a more fitting choice would’ve been hard to find (the guy looks like he just walked off an archaeological site). Above all, Gladiator II shows just how wasted an actor like Mescal is in ultra-mainstream cinema, where the fast-paced editing of blockbusters has neither the room nor the interest for what makes the Irishman an extraordinary actor. As seen in his intimate projects that made him famous – such as Aftersun (2022, dir. Charlotte Wells) and Normal People (2020, dir. Lenny Abrahamson) – Mescal has an incredible talent for pauses and rhythm modulation. His most brilliant moments often occur when the camera lingers with him for a few extra seconds, even though “Cut!” could have long been called. Gladiator II has no time for such nuances, constantly undermining Lucius’ sensitivity and sabotaging his depth of character. In general, the film lacks the quiet and reflection that counterbalanced the action in the first Gladiator, rushing through states and places at breakneck speed.

Setting aside historical accuracy issues – which the internet is bound to nitpick – such as the Roman population of sharks or a hilariously narrative-useless scene of ancient backyard football (for the record, Adrian Mutu confirms that they did play football back then), the real and major flaw of Gladiator II is that it ultimately loses focus on its main character. What made the first Gladiator so compelling – and the reason it remains so iconic – was precisely Maximus’ centrality throughout the film, sustained by his dominant charisma and strong convictions. Crowe’s character had the magnetism and gravitational force to justify his association with the movie’s title.

By contrast, Scott’s new film, though ostensibly about Lucius reincarnating as a Maximus 2.0, disperses itself between Lucilla (with her old storyline and debts to the Roman dream) and four antagonists: General Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal), the two mad emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger), and finally Macrinus (Denzel Washington), a businessman and gladiator recruiter with vengeful ambitions to conquer Rome himself. While the emperors’ crassness may be exasperating (aiming for camp but landing in shrill caricature), Pascal’s character, one of the most important roles in the story – first as the general behind the attack on Numidia and thus Lucius’ primary target, then as Lucilla’s forgiven husband – is poorly developed and forgettable. On the other hand, despite his out-of-nowhere scheming toward the film’s end, Macrinus emerges as one of its more magnetic characters, for you couldn’t have it any other way with Denzel Washington – who, unsurprisingly, performs at another level but seemingly in a different (and obviously better) film.

Adding to this overwhelming character roster are senators and a handful of secondary figures discussing Rome’s machinations and grand destiny, distracting from Lucius’ gladiatorial narrative – the moments where the film truly excels. The hand-to-hand combat scenes retain some of the first film’s appeal, especially when avoiding the overuse of fantastic computer-generated beasts and focusing on good old swashbuckling. Allow me to point out that there are more CGI monkeys than women in Gladiator II (one is brought back from the original film, while another dies within the first two minutes). This observation is less about criticising Scott for failing the Bechdel Test and more about highlighting how, among the dozens of new characters, it wouldn’t have been hard to include a meaningful female role – and also how the film suffers from “big-boy toy” syndrome.

The first Gladiator was a “big-boy toy” too, but not entirely gratuitously; it was a fantasy about Rome and a turn-of-the-millennium romance about masculinity that moved and inspired, speaking convincingly about honour and loyalty – all among its well-crafted spectacle. Gladiator II is merely a crass and bloated spectacle, a symptom of the modern blockbuster’s death: loud and ultimately forgettable, a product of dizzying gimmicks, colossal budgets bigger than ever in history, and top-of-the-line technology filling the screen yet saying nothing.

I watched Gladiator II in a surprisingly empty Irish cinema on its opening day, preceded by trailers for the next Mission Impossible and a new iteration of The Lord of the Rings (recycling some footage from the early 2000s films). A situation montage that seems to encapsulate the unstated context behind this second Gladiator: the “sequel” craze of nowadays, both an opportunistic recycling that capitalises on consumer nostalgia and a result of the present’s (creative?) crisis that forces us to seek refuge and meaning in the past.

Gladiator II is a grand self-reference for Ridley Scott, less convincing when it doesn’t come from Russell Crowe’s mouth. Still, I foresee it as an important milestone for Paul Mescal’s career as a leading man: either it will propel him to the heights of studio cinema, or it will serve as a lesson in what does or doesn’t serve his art as an actor. Versatility, after all, doesn’t hurt.

Gladiator II entered Romanian cinemas on November 15.

Dora Leu

Graduated with a BA in film directing and a MA in film studies from UNATC; she's also studied history of art. Also collaborates with the Acoperisul de Sticla film magazine and is a former coordinator of FILM MENU. She's dedicated herself to '60-'70s Japanese cinema and Irish post-punk music bands. Still keeps a picture of Leslie Cheung in her wallet.