Gladiator 2: Barefoot in Sandals
Twenty-four years after the brave Roman general Maximus, a friend of Marcus Aurelius, walked through a field of wheat into the realm of Pluto, British director Sir Ridley Scott has released a sequel. Rumours of this follow-up have circulated ever since the first instalment of what is now a Roman Empire franchise became a box-office success. This time, it’s Lucius, Maximus’s son, who treads the hot sand of the Colosseum’s arena in woven sandals. A refugee from Roman tyranny, Lucius lives in Numidia and commands an army. Audiences will inevitably compare these two films and wonder—what was the director trying to convey?
Regarding the plot, it has become significantly simpler than the first film, which itself was not particularly deep. After Maximus’s heroic death, during which he avenged the tyrannical Emperor Commodus before the eyes of Rome’s patricians, Lucilla, Maximus’s lover and Marcus Aurelius’s daughter, sends her son Lucius into forced exile in Africa, to the far reaches of the empire. For 16 years, the boy is all but forgotten. In that time, he becomes a local commander, leading the Numidian army in battle against the Romans, who arrive seeking to colonise the last independent state in North Africa.
The Roman legionaries, led by the noble yet dutiful General Acacius, defeat the Numidians and enslave the survivors, including Lucius, who loses his beloved during the battle. Now destined to become a gladiator, Lucius thirsts for vengeance—not against the entire Roman army, but at least against General Acacius. To achieve his goal, he strikes a deal with his new master, the ambitious slave trader Macrinus, who clearly has imperial ambitions. After a series of spectacular battles against men and beasts, Lucius gets what he desires. However, it turns out that Acacius is not his enemy—firstly, because he is now married to Lucilla, Lucius’s mother, and secondly, because he too opposes despotism and dreams of reforming the bloated empire back into “a glorious Rome of the future.”
Even in this brief summary, numerous questions and obvious plot holes arise: why, if Maximus won, did his son have to flee the capital? Why did Lucilla abandon her son, only to be filled with maternal feelings upon seeing him in the Colosseum arena 16 years later? What is Lucius fighting against, and what drives him once he realises he has no one to avenge? Lastly, how technically feasible was it in 200 AD to pump hundreds of cubic metres of water from the Tyrrhenian Sea into the Colosseum, and where did the Romans get the great white sharks for yet another gladiatorial spectacle?
The fact that various drafts of the Gladiator sequel gathered dust on producers’ shelves for a quarter of a century suggests that the film’s creator himself was unsure of what he wanted to make. The struggle between resurrecting the charismatic Maximus, played by Russell Crowe, and continuing the story through his descendants ultimately led to a rather unconventional script being commissioned from Australian punk musician Nick Cave.
Cave’s script, titled Christ Killer, was a typical punk creation. In it, Maximus returned from purgatory as an immortal warrior and set out to find Jesus Christ to kill him and put an end to Christianity. The concept resembled The Terminator, but don’t rush to conclusions. The plot then saw Maximus participating in the Crusades, World War II, and the Vietnam War, only to end up as a Pentagon employee in the modern era. This absurd script might have been worth filming for laughs, but it was ultimately rejected. That’s when Sir Ridley took a different approach, deciding to focus on the film’s visual and technical aspects.
In Gladiator 2, Ridley Scott—a visionary director with a background in design and a successful career in advertising and music videos (his 1984-style commercial for Apple remains one of the best advertisements ever made)—finally realised ideas and fantasies that were technically challenging and costly in 2000. For instance, the duel between Lucius and a rider on a war rhinoceros involved a mechanical model covered in plastic skin that replicated the wrinkles and folds of a real rhino, later enhanced with CGI.
Another example is the scene where aspiring gladiators fight a pack of ravenous baboons. This was achieved using stunt actors fitted with motion capture sensors and “baboon prosthetics.” The creators remain silent about who played the great white sharks that devour gladiators during an improvised re-enactment of the Battle of Salamis in the Colosseum. However, historical accuracy is not the problem with these scenes. Nor is it the fact that after King Kong, Godzilla, and The Lord of the Rings, computer-generated Colosseums, Roman panoramas, and exotic animals no longer surprise anyone.
The issue lies in the execution. The scenes, which seem to be the primary reason Ridley Scott revisited this material, are shot and edited so hastily and chaotically that the viewer’s eyes barely have time to enjoy or even fully register the visualisations of the director’s ideas. The shaky camera and abrupt, second-by-second editing resemble the style of Ridley’s late brother, Tony Scott, and are ill-suited to an epic peplum. Unfortunately, this directorial choice does not work.
What’s the Verdict? The undeniable highlight of Gladiator 2 is Denzel Washington, who delivers a stellar performance as one of the main antagonists, the slave trader Macrinus. Every appearance of this powerful villain instantly draws the audience’s attention away from the other characters in the frame. His presence is akin to a spectacular miniature Roman fashion week, with costume designers putting their heart and creativity into crafting increasingly stylish ornaments, tunics, and cloaks for each of Macrinus’s scenes. Furthermore, some of his aphorisms, steeped in the intrigue and “realpolitik” of Roman times, serve as deliberate allusions to contemporary realities, particularly the actions of another empire — the United States.
Yet, the modern parallels in the film go beyond Macrinus's quips about a “Roman dream for slaves.” For instance, the Roman opposition patricians, aspiring to realise Aristotle and Marcus Aurelius's visions of an "ideal and just future Rome," resemble modern-day Russian opposition figures in their impotence, naivety, and lack of coherent strategy. The scene of a coup attempt involving Praetorian archers is one of the briefest in the film, yet it leaves a lasting impression.
For cinephiles, Gladiator 2 offers a treasure trove of references and allusions — not just to current events but also to iconic films, cinematic characters, and cultural archetypes. The anxious and haughty Emperor Geta unmistakably echoes Malcolm McDowell’s young Caligula in Caligula, while his brother, the red-haired and infantile Emperor Caracalla, oddly channels Ron Weasley from Harry Potter. The seething rage of the vengeful gladiator Lucius is a visual nod to Mel Gibson’s Mad Max, while the nobility and self-sacrifice of Lucius’s sworn friend, General Acacius, played by Pedro Pascal, undeniably evoke the beskar-clad Mandalorian. Pascal’s charisma and ruggedness are undoubtedly assets to the sequel, though his screen time is limited.
Secondary interpretations are not always detrimental, especially when a fresh perspective is added to what’s been previously stated. As Ridley Scott himself remarks, “This film is obviously about the Roman Empire, but it’s also about how humanity never learns its lessons. We keep repeating history over and over again.”
One might view Gladiator 2 as another exploration of Nietzsche’s concept of "eternal recurrence" or see Lucius/Maximus as an embodiment of Joseph Campbell’s “Hero with a Thousand Faces.” Scott’s oeuvre often features recurring themes, such as duels. It’s no coincidence that his Cannes-winning debut, The Duellists, was an adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s novella about a 15-year feud between two Napoleonic officers. This lens of conflict and opposition can also be applied to other works by the British auteur: the duel between human and non-human intelligence (Alien), the clash between humanity and pragmatic calculation (Blade Runner), the struggle against male chauvinism (Thelma & Louise, G.I. Jane), the showdown between slave and emperor (Gladiator), and, more recently, the historical drama The Last Duel.
Did Scott Succeed in Realising His Vision? It’s hard to say. The only character whose fate genuinely tugs at the viewer’s heartstrings is the small, comical pet monkey Dondeus, who is constantly by Emperor Caracalla’s side. By the end, the emperor even appoints poor Dondeus as the first Roman consul. Now there’s a character worthy of Gladiator 3! And considering the box office numbers, it seems inevitable. Scott himself confirmed this:
“I’m already thinking about Gladiator 3. No, seriously! I’ve already lit the fuse,” Scott said in an interview with Variety. “The ending of Gladiator 2 is reminiscent of The Godfather, where Michael Corleone finds himself in a situation he never wanted and asks himself, ‘Well, Father, what do I do now?’ The next film will be about a man who doesn’t want to be where he is.”
What’s Next? Whether audiences want it or not, it seems likely they will find themselves back in the cinema in a few years, watching yet another epic Ridley Scott masterpiece in the "swords and sandals" genre. The real intrigue lies in which new characters Scott’s imagination will send to the sands of the Colosseum for public amusement. As they say, Ave, Caesar! Those who are about to enter the cinema salute you!