Leave it to director Ridley Scott make a big-bidget sword-amd-sandles film in 2024. No other director could have made such an indulgent, grandiose, dumb, nostalgic, loud, operatic, luxurious and expensive sword-and-sandles film. It succeeds purely based on its scale, visual design and a handful of truly fun performances, but that doesn't make it one worth remembering.
Paul Mescal stars as, checks internet, Hanno, who's home of, checks internet again, Numidia, the "last city not under Rome's control." We barely get to know him and his wife Arishat (Yuval Gonen) before Rome and it's humongous army of ships launches an attack, let by General Acacius (Pedro Pascal). Pedro is a fantastic actor, able to be simultaneously stoic and sympathetic, and everytime he's onscreen I wish the film was about him.
Arishat is killed in battle, Numidia falls and Hanno is enslaved. But it only takes a few minutes of runtime before he's fighting crazed bamboos alongside other prisoners of war. Of course, our protagonist wins not only the er, the match, but also the eye of Macrinus, the head of the gladiators who promises the head of Acacius to Hanno if he keeps fighting. Keeps winning. To never lose his rage, so Marcinus says. He's played by Denzel Washington, an actor the camera just loves. He moves and speaks with swagger and sexuality, speaking like he's always half-soused, (and frequently does have a drink in hand) encrusted with robes and jewelry. Both him and Pascal completely outshine Mesca, who has all the superficial qualities of an actor except charisma. He looks like a background who's accidentally reading the star's lines.
I can't understate how big an issue this is; he lacks any presence, swallowed up by the surrounding scenery and performers. He is convincing in the many fights but so what? Mesca wouldn't even make it in the WWE, except maybe as referee.
Connie Nielsen also stars, as Lucilla, wife of Acacius, but she's given nothing to do except look scared or concerned; she exists purely to move the narrative along to the next bombastic scene. Given Scott's history of strong female characters, it's a shame to see not only just one main woman character but also for her to function squarely to serve the plot along for the boys to play.
Rome is ruled by twin emperor's, Greta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger), brothers who are pale and look sickly as they bark orders for their own amusement. They make great villains, with this erotic energy towards not just women and men but also each other. I don't know how historically accurate they are, or anything in this lavish production is, but man, does it make for a great cinematic time.
The rest of the plot is arbitrary gobblygook, ripped right from other, similar, films, but aside from the traumatic miscasting of the main character, it can't shake this feeling that there isn't much of a point to "Gladiator II," even to someone like me who's never seen the first one. The only thing onscreen, aside from literally millions of dollars, was Scott's fetish for excess. And I absolutely ate it up. There's not one ship, but dozens. Not one army, but three. Why? Why not!? There's even sharks! Everyone walks around with flowy clothes in fantastical sets, the kind meant to keep your eyes entertained for hours. And at just under two and a half hours, just be happy that it doesn't take that long before the credits roll.
