2024 AD, Kigali, Rwanda—It’s been 24 years since Gladiator thundered into cinemas and 10 years since it captured the imagination of a particular little girl. Now, she sits in a crowded theater, her popcorn long gone, eagerly waiting for the lights to dim and the screen to glow. For the next 158 minutes, she braces herself: will Gladiator II break her heart or have her tattooing “Strength and Honor” on her forehead?
Verdict? Eh, a bit of a mixed bag.
A Visual Masterpiece
If nothing else, Gladiator II is an absolute feast for the senses. Costume designer Janty Yates deserves every accolade; deep blues, bright yellows, and the Praetorians in period-accurate purple uniforms add opulence to every scene. The luxurious fabrics and intricate embroidery alone are enough to make me want to time-travel—not to flirt with Macrinus and Lucilla but to raid their closets.
The set design is equally impressive. Filmed on an 8-kilometer plot in Malta, the production team recreated ancient Rome with jaw-dropping authenticity. The practical sets provide a “lived-in” feel that puts many CGI-heavy productions (cough House of the Dragon cough) to shame. The naval battle scene, featuring a partially submerged reconstruction of the Colosseum, is a particular standout. The dedication to realism shines through in every frame, as if to show you exactly where the $250 million budget went.
Ridley Scott may not always stick to historical accuracy, but with the Romans being this extravagant in real life, who needs embellishments?
Action and Performances: Thrilling but Uneven
The action sequences are leagues ahead of the original, benefiting from improved technology. While Gladiator laid the groundwork, this sequel refines it with battles that are fast-paced, clean, and exhilarating.
As for the performances, the cast delivers a masterclass in acting, though for me, Denzel Washington is the undisputed MVP. Early critiques about his accent are irrelevant—this is ancient Rome, not the BBC. Denzel is just power and charisma in every scene. He’s clearly having fun and I’m having fun watching him reveling in his character’s scheming and deceit. What an absolute delight.
Paul Mescal, Pedro Pascal, and Connie Nielsen are fantastic as well, though Mescal’s portrayal of Lucius feels flatter compared to Russell Crowe’s Maximus. Where Maximus balanced stoicism, charm, and a deeply personal longing for home, Lucius struggles to embody that same complexity. His leadership feels less convincing, partly because we don’t see him bonding with his fellow gladiators as Maximus did. (Proof: I still remember Juba and Hagen from the first film, but Lucius’s companions? Nameless.)
Joseph Quinn is solid as Macrinus, but even his standout moments can’t escape comparison to Joaquin Phoenix’s transcendent turn as Commodus in the original film. At just 25 years old, Phoenix set a bar so high it’s impossible to reach.
The Plot: Nostalgic but Predictable
Here’s the rub. I genuinely enjoyed this film. Really, I did. But the story leans too heavily on nostalgia in a way that often feels like a retread of the original. The emotional beats—Lucius losing his wife, for example—mirror Maximus’s arc but lack the same emotional punch. In Gladiator, Maximus’s sole purpose was to reunite with his family, even in death, grounding the story in bittersweet tragedy. Here, Lucius’s loss feels like an afterthought. He doesn’t even kill Acacius (a subversion, sure, but c’mon), and revenge quickly takes a backseat to his ambition to save—and rule—Rome.
Another case in point: the “What can make you a better gladiator” moment in both films. In the first, Proximo’s reveal as a former gladiator freed by the Emperor is layered and unexpected. Maximus responds with his wish to meet the Emperor, though his true intentions add a subtle, poignant tension. The sequel attempts to recreate this dynamic but delivers a pale, less nuanced imitation.
The decision to make Lucius Maximus’s son is intriguing but introduces its own problems. While this twist fits within the first film’s context, it’s treated as a mystery for the first 20 minutes—despite being spoiled in trailers (allegedly, I’ve stopped watching those) and cast lists. This makes for a slightly confusing first watch. Worse, Lucius accepts the revelation far too quickly, raising questions about whether he suspected it all along—a thread the film never explores.
This shift undermines the emotional weight of the story. While Macrinus, the scheming rival, is a compelling addition, his conflict with Lucius feels disconnected from the initial revenge arc. The narrative abruptly pivots from Lucius vs. Acacius to Lucius vs. Macrinus without enough buildup, making Lucius’s eventual drive to rule Rome feel unearned.
What the Film Missed
The film teases fascinating subplots but doesn’t fully explore them. Acacius and Lucilla’s love story? Cute but underdeveloped. Macrinus’s backstory? Begging for more depth. The mother-son dynamic between Lucilla and Lucius? Practically screaming for a Director’s Cut. And don’t get me started on the rumored bisexual Macrinus kiss—justice for the cutting room floor.
Tonally, there’s something about Gladiator II that irks me. The constant references to a bygone “dream that was Rome” come across as nostalgic idealism. But what exactly are we romanticizing? Neither the first movie nor this one shows us a Rome worth longing for. Instead, we’re left with an anachronistic idea of a democratic Rome—a sanitized vision that ignores the oppressive systems underpinning its power.
Ravi’s storyline, for instance, echoes a bootstraps narrative that feels uncomfortably reminiscent of the American Dream myth. The idea that the Roman Empire—a system built on exploitation and conquest—could somehow offer a path to freedom and prosperity for all feels overly simplistic.
The film does offer an interesting reversal of roles. In the first movie, Maximus is the Roman invader, convinced of Rome’s superiority. Here, Lucius fights to defend his homeland from colonial forces. Yet, the film ends with Lucius at the head of the empire, presumably restoring Rome’s former glory—a conclusion that feels tonally at odds with its premise.
I hear there are plans for a third movie, exploring Lucius’s struggle as a leader. I’m intrigued to see if they explore these themes deeper than we have seen so far.
Casting Controversy: May Calamawy’s Cut Role
A lot of noise has been made online about May Calamawy’s drastically reduced role. Promoted as a major female lead, she ends up as a non-speaking, uncredited character. Some speculate this was due to her Palestinian heritage and activism, but it seems more likely her scenes were cut for runtime. Reports suggest she was originally cast in Ravi’s role, which would have complicated the revenge plot against Acacius. Regardless, her talent deserved more screen time.
Final Thoughts
Despite its flaws, Gladiator II is a thrilling, visually stunning experience. The action dazzles, the score soars, and the cast (Denzel especially!) shines. But its reliance on homage often gets in the way of its potential to stand on its own.
Still, I’ve already watched it twice. I’m not ruling out a third or fifth time. Before I forget, let’s all give thanks that the proposed 2001 version of this sequel never made it past the pitch stage. No, seriously.
Bonus Highlights
– Baboon fight. Yes, Lucius actually BIT it.
– Colorful opening credits—can we bring these back?
– Macrinus’s jewelry. He might be evil, but he slays, always.
– Drinking game: Take a shot every time someone says, “There was a dream that was Rome.”
My Letterboxd rating: 3.5/5
