Gladiator II: The unraveling of legacy and power

Ridley Scott’s return to the screen with a sequel to Gladiator carried high stakes and promised an action-packed experience that would be worth the wait. For the most part, it does not disappoint.

I secured myself a ticket and was ready to dive into the experience, but I decided to switch things up. Instead of heading to my beloved local Vue, where I always reserve the same comfy recliner seat, I tried the new cinema in town. A new Everyman had just opened up inside the Grand Arcade in Cambridge, and I wanted to see if the experience lived up to the hype.

The lush armchairs and food-and-drink service brought a touch of luxury, and for an opening weekend, the venue didn’t do too badly. The staff were friendly even though communication was a bit messy, but I have a few notes. I wouldn’t want to sit in the front row, where there’s no space between the screen and the seats. Also, the shared side tables feel cramped if you order more than one dish and a drink, especially if you’re seated next to a stranger. It feels counterintuitive for a cinema that’s trying to sell an upscale experience of cocktails and overpriced appetisers.

That said, the sound quality was excellent, even in one of the smaller screening rooms. But while I enjoyed the novelty of the Everyman, I’d still rather return to my more traditional cinema experience with creaky reclining leather chairs and the smell of popcorn and nachos. It’s like a pair of well-worn shoes, perhaps less shiny, but far more comfortable.

Back to Rome

The story picks up 16 years after the events of Gladiator. This is a Rome where the dream of freedom, the Senate, and the ideals Marcus Aurelius died for, and Maximus fought for, have long been abandoned. In their place, Emperor Geta and his brother Caracalla have established a reign of tyranny and conquest.

The stakes are high not just for the individual characters but for the city itself. Rome is teetering on the edge of chaos, with unrest simmering in its streets. A precarious balance keeps things in place, but it’s fragile and prone to crumbling at the first sign of dissent. The arrival of Lucius (Hanno), played by Paul Mescal in Rome sparks the shift that will change everything.

At first, the setup feels familiar: Hanno loses his freedom and the woman he loves during a Roman conquest, and he’s consumed by rage and a thirst for revenge, specifically against General Acacius, played by Pedro Pascal.

Here is where Gladiator II starts to take a different turn. Where Maximus’ rage was directed at Commodus, a character driven by selfish cruelty and easy to despise, Hanno’s hatred toward Acacius is more complicated. Acacius isn’t just a straightforward villain; he’s playing his own dangerous game. Manipulated by Emperor Geta, he has his own plans to overthrow the throne and restore a Senate-led Rome. This adds a layer of complexity that makes his character far more compelling.

Pascal is not the only one to bring his A game and  deliver a characters full of flaws and depth. The real standout for me was Denzel Washington as Macrinus, a gladiator master who is so much more than he initially appears. At first, when Lucius arrives in the city, we might believe him an ally, an hatred for the Roman empire that binds them, but his real motives slowly start to emerge. Where Lucius hatred is fuelled by seeing a Rome liberated from tyranny, Macrinus doesn’t want freedom for Rome; he wants power for himself. He embodies the idea that Rome is a ladder, one where anyone with enough cunning and ruthlessness can climb to the top. What makes him truly dangerous is his ability to manipulate those around him. He earns trust, only to twist it to his advantage. We don’t fully understand how resentful he really is until he slowly start shedding his masks, revealing himself as the real villain of the story, and it’s a role that Denzel absolutely owns.

The Look and Feel of a Changing Rome

Visually, Gladiator II is bold and dynamic, pushing far beyond the grittiness of its predecessor. It leans heavily on CGI, particularly in the arena scenes, and while the results are often spectacular, they sometimes tip into excess. Sharks in the Colosseum? Sure, it’s a spectacle, and undeniably entertaining, but it stretches the boundaries of believability, pulling the story into a more fantastical realm.

This shift gives the film a heightened, almost theatrical tone that reminded me of The Hunger Games. The grand, staged battles for an audience’s amusement, the over-the-top set pieces, they all echo that dystopian drama. While this exaggerated style has its moments, it’s a clear departure from the raw, tactile realism that defined the original.

What hasn’t changed, however, is the unflinching portrayal of violence. Rome is still a city where lives are sacrificed for show, and bloodshed is entertainment. The arena scenes are brutal and visceral, reminding us of the cost paid for the Empire’s insatiable thirst for control. The fights are messy, chaotic, and designed to elicit roars from the crowd, both on screen and in the cinemas.

Yet the violence isn’t confined to the arena. The film does an excellent job of showing how expendable life is in this version of Rome. Heroes once celebrated can be tossed aside at the Emperor’s whim. Those who rise to glory can just as easily fall, forgotten or killed when their usefulness runs out. This ruthless hierarchy keeps the stakes high and the tension palpable.

While the film’s glossy visual style may divide fans of the original, its depiction of the violence and cruelty that underpin the Empire ensures it doesn’t lose sight of its darker, grittier core. The sharks and spectacle might dazzle, but the bloody reality of Rome still bites.

Lucius: A Hero in the Shadow of a Legacy

Lucius is an interesting character, but his journey feels like it’s trying to do two things at once, honor the legacy of Maximus while carving out its own path. Played with conviction by Paul Mescal, Lucius starts as a man consumed by rage, a classic hero’s motivation. But unlike Maximus, whose vengeance led him down a path of moral complexity, Lucius plays things much safer. His anger is focused, almost righteous, which makes him easy to root for but also a little too perfect.

The film sets him up as a beacon of hope for Rome, someone driven by noble ideals of freedom and justice. But this nobility can sometimes feel like it’s holding him back from being a more flawed, dynamic hero. For example, his forgiveness of Acacius comes so easily that it feels like the story misses an opportunity to explore the messiness of betrayal and redemption. His only real unresolved conflict is with his mother, Lucilla, for sending him away as a child, but even that tension doesn’t get the attention it deserves.

Lucius is certainly an inspiring figure, rallying the gladiators and delivering stirring speeches about freedom and honour. Yet his character arc lacks the messiness that makes heroes truly memorable. His rage, while central to his motivations, doesn’t lead him astray or force him into difficult decisions. Instead, he remains steadfast and unwavering, which can feel predictable compared to the more layered and conflicted characters around him, like Acacius and Macrinus.

That said, Mescal’s performance brings a quiet intensity to Lucius, making him likeable and charismatic. He captures the inner turmoil of a man grappling with his role in a world still dominated by the corrupt systems he seeks to dismantle. But even with Mescal’s talent, Lucius’ journey ultimately feels overshadowed, not just by the towering legacy of Maximus but by the morally gray, scene-stealing figures in the ensemble.

THE ENDING

There is almost an hopeful tone at the end of the movie which I think clashes with the tone that the rest of the mood has set. Yes, it is redemption. Yes, Mescal is really good at giving speeches and inciting the other gladiator for freedom and glory and honour but the ending for me just didn’t cut it. It felt utopian in its belief that by eliminating one tyranny the path to a free Rome, a Rome ruled by a government, is possible. It even sends a message that by doing that, things will be better when, in fact, we know that is just another form of control. It's the promise of the dream of Marc Aurelius fulfilled and the redemption of the son that has vindicated the memory of the father for what he could not accomplish. Again, this is too much of a perfect ending; it feels almost an audience-pleasing ending rather than a believable one, even though we shouldn’t have expected anything less when we saw sharks in the Colosseum, to be honest.

Yes, Rome’s rulers may change, but its systems of power remain the same. By the end, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the film’s utopian conclusion was at odds with its darker, more grounded tone.

Gladiator II is a bold return to a world defined by blood, ambition, and the fight for freedom. While it doesn’t reach the gritty heights of its predecessor, it carves out a space for itself with larger-than-life set pieces, stellar performances, and a story that still manages to entertain, even if it plays it safe at times. While it’s not perfect, Ridley Scott proves once again that even after decades, he knows how to keep us captivated in the sands of the Colosseum.

RATING