Categories
Peplum

Peplum Ponderings: Gladiator II

Gladiator II is the 2024 neo-peplum sequel to the iconic and influential Gladiator from 2000, both films directed by Ridley Scott. Taking place sixteen years after the events of GladiatorGladiator II sees Hanno (Paul Mescal), who is actually Lucius, the son of Maximus Decimus Meridius (Russell Crowe) and Lucilla (Connie Nielsen) from Gladiator, a captured soldier from Numidia, follow in his father’s footsteps at becoming a skilled gladiator, seeking vengeance for the slaying of his wife, and becoming part of Roman political intrigue. The end product is a well-crafted neo-peplum film, with some great spectacle scenes, fantastic actors, thought suffers from lackluster writing that fails to support the new gladiator hero.

How does one make a sequel to Gladiator when that film had a definite ending and the main protagonist, a pop and cult cultural icon, dies in the end? The route to go is to retcon/shoe-horn the character of Lucius to be the son of Maximus, and have this new character continue the story. This paternal hook was utilized numerous times during the classic age of sword and sandal in the 60s. Sergio Corbucci’s The Son of Spartacus (1962), capitalizes on Kubrick’s Spartacus (1960), and in the process becomes a sequel of sorts, with the story being carried on by Randus (Steve Reeves) the son of the legendary Spartacus (Kirk Douglas). The numerous Sons of Hercules retitled/edited pepla all become continuations to any number of Hercules films, if taken literally by their “son of” titles, creating a loose canon of sorts. Other examples of Italian pepla that feature a son of a historic (cinematic) hero include Il figlio di d’Artagnan ([The Son of d’Artagnan] Riccardo Freda, 1950), The Son of El Cid (Vittorio Cottafavi, 1964), and Son of Samson (Carlo Campogalliani, 1960), though this is a Maciste film, the title being mostly exploitative of the Samson name and figurative in nature. Gladiator II’s usage of a son character to continue the story is well within sword and sandal genre conventions.

The issue becomes that the son character (Lucius) is not his own character, but a stand in for Russell Crowe’s Maximus. Lucius story mimics that of his father (wife is killed, seeks vengeance, captured, becomes a gladiator, has visions of the River Styx (a substitute for the Elysian fields). Mescal’s speaking cadence mirrors Crowe’s, and the same mannerisms, such as running sand through his fingers, are copied over. Lucius is not the son of Maximus, he is a carbon copy. This facsimile could be contributed to cinematic/storytelling handwaving, after all he is the son of Maximus, so surely all of Lucius traits are hereditary. Having Lucius be the unknown son of Maximus also asks modern day viewers to question Maximus’ fidelity, as he has a wife and son he is completely devoted to as evident in the first Gladiator. Factoring in a previously unknown child creates a shadow over Maximus’ devotion.

This carbon copying of Maximus to Hanno/Lucius robs Lucius of the opportunity to have his own story, his own destiny. What little of his own agency is taken from him when the story is an hour and a half completed. Like Maximus, Lucius’ main motivation is to get revenge for the death of his wife Arishat (Yuval Gonen), who died by the arrows from invading general Acacius (Pedro Pascal). Macrinus (Denzel Washington), the owner of Hanno, makes many references to the rage that Hanno exhibits in his quest of vengeance, which is supposed to help anchor Hanno’s motiviation. Eventually Lucius comes head-to-head against Acacius in the arena where he learns that Acacius was trying to free him, that Acacius is the husband to his mother Lucilla, and that Hanno is the son of Maximus. Lucius is presented with a choice, a pretty big and epic choice that would shape his character and the story’s narrative: to kill Acacius to get his revenge, or to spare him. The choice is robbed from him as the twin emperors Greta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger) order the Praetorian Guard to kill Acacius with their arrows. 

The main motivating factor for Lucius’ character is now concluded, not by his own hand. However, there is still an hour of the movie left to go, so the question becomes “what to do with the character now” The story then switches to weaving Lucius into the toga and sandal aspect of the film, becoming involved in the intrigue to overthrow the emperor twins. Up until this point in the narrative the character has had no connection with or reason to care about the corrupt rulers of Rome, but the story forces the transition to make Lucius integral. At this moment Lucius ceases to be his own character in his entirety, fully becoming Maximus instead, complete with donning his armour and wielding his gladius, which were part of a shrine to the fallen hero. 

Interestingly, there is one aspect that sets Hanno/Lucius apart from Maximus is the emphasis on the body. Peplum, especially the strongmen Hercules/Maciste/Samson/et al., have a laser focus on the male body, showing off muscles and their feats of strength. In the original Gladiator, Russell Crowe was in tip top shape, but he spent the movie fully clothed or armoured. Lucius, on the other hand, spends a bulk of the movie shirtless, be it in his prison cell or taking a bath and recuperating after a battle. Mescal is not a “strongman” in the traditional Reeves/Mark Forest/Schwarzenegger/The Rock/etc. fashion, but he is extremely fit, muscular, and agile. Gladiator II wants to sell the audience Mescal’s body, keeping with the focus of traditional 60s pepla. Of related interest, there is no nudity in Gladiator II and there are only a small handful of women characters (Lucilla, Arishat [both who get fridged]), and none of them are sexualized or wear anything revealing. It should be noted that May Calamawy was to be a substantial female character in the film, but her scenes where 99% cut from the film. 

The cost to support this bare-minimum hero’s journey is seen in the supporting characters. Lucilla is only present to assisting in anchoring Gladiator II to the original Gladiator, as she spends most of her scenes on the verge of tears, watching everything unfold outside her control. She has virtually no bearing on the plot, which is an unfortunate underutilization of the character who should have been much more integral. 

The character of Acacius suffers a similar fate as he only exists to drive the motivation of Lucius, and then he is out of the film. This is unfortunate as Acacius should have been one of the most complex characters in the film. His character is basically the equivalent to Maximus, an extremely proficient general, heralded as a hero. However, some people’s heroes are other people’s villains. The audience knows that Acacius is technically a “good guy”, the remorseful soldier who is really good at his job (conquering and subjugating other lands to Rome), but Lucius does not know this. This is the perfect setup to explore two characters at the same time and play with audience expectations, but the gods (and the story) do not will it.

It is these cracks in the characters that fail to uphold the story, and this is due to the writing. This is unfortunate because nearly all other aspects of the film are top notch. The performances of everyone are excellent (though Denzel Washington brings in a bit of anachronistic swagger that does steal the scenes, but also can take viewers out of the film a bit). Intentionally or not, there are many scenes in Gladiator II that seem over the top, bordering on fantasy, but act as terrific calls backs to classic pepla and their historic re/mis-creations. The naval battle scene in the arena, which has been flooded and filled with man-eating sharks, is historically based on the naumachiae, (though doubtful that the Romans captured sharks, transported them to Rome, and kept them contained in a SeaWorld of antiquity, but it adds tremendously to the spectacle), but flooded/flooding arena battles can be found in the likes of Atlantis, the Lost Continent (George Pal, 1961) where Demetrios (Anthony Hall) fights an ogre in a flooding arena. The final confrontation between Lucius and Macrinus in a stream outside Rome is similar to the final battle between Oleg (Victor Mature) and Burundai (Orson Welles) in The Tartars (Richard Thrope, 1961) who battle each other in the stream next to the Viking settlement. And, of course, the numerous slave and gladiator revolt films, such as The Magnificent Gladiator (Alfonso Brescia, 1964), The Revolt of the Slaves (Nunzio Malasomma, 1960) (of note, Acacius, with arrows protruding all from his body, has some visual similarities to Saint Sebastian, whose arrowed-ness is portrayed in The Revolt of the Slaves by actor Ettore Manni), the aforementioned Son of Spartacus, and others. Like the original GladiatorGladiator II takes classic tropes from the genres, gives them a new polish, and uses them to great effect. 

Gladiator II is a terrific neo-peplum on its own right, but due to its writing and treatment of Hanno/Lucius, it fails to be a great sequel. Despite this, the movie is not without pop culture importance and greater cultural observations and questioning. When the original Gladiator came out in 2000, it not only ushered in a rejuvenated cycle of sword and sandal films (with the likes of 300 [Zach Snyder, 2007], Troy [Wolfgang Petersen, 2004], Alexander [Oliver Stone, 2004], etc.), it also coincided with eight years of far-right rule in America under the George W. Bush presidency. The sword and sandal genre is in the odd arena where it can critique/push back against fascism (such as when Hercules battles an evil usurper to an otherwise peaceful kingdom), or sometimes it can venture the other way (such as 300 and its associated jingoism). For every viewing of Tinto Brass’s Caligula (1979), there is a large portion of the audience who says “this Rome is horrible” and are rightfully repulsed, and yet there is a small population that says “this is pretty cool” and accepts the imagery and actions of ancient Rome as something positive. 

Akin to the first GladiatorGladiator II was released on the eve of the second presidency of Donald Trump, who is currently speed rushing in an even bigger wave of fascism, xenophobia, and anti- LGBTQ+ policies. Will Gladiator IIusher in a new era of neo-pepla that can hopefully critique and push back the tide of fascism? At the end of the film, Lucius gives a short speech to the two armies outside Rome’s gates: “My grandfather Marcus Aurelius talked of a dream that would be Rome, an ideal, a city for the many and a home for those in need. A republic. That dream has been lost. But dare we rebuild that dream?” There’s a lot of nightmares going on right now, inside and outside the states. Gladiator II asks its audience to heed Lucius plea and dream big and better for all.