In the opening image of 'Gladiator II', director Ridley Scott's long-awaited sequel to his 2000 Oscar-winning blockbuster, we see the hand of a man run his fingers through a basket of grain, sifting through the kernels. It recalls the opening of the original film, the iconic image of a Roman soldier running his hands along stalks of wheat at dusk. This immediately caught my attention - was it an indication of a thematic shift in this second film, the original image's romanticism now evolving into something more tangible? Where the ideas woven through 'Gladiator' felt idealistic, almost divine, the second film would deal with something more concrete, more immediate? As it turns out, the variation in this opening image is indicative of the kind of film 'Gladiator II' would turn out to be, but in a far more cynical manner. The beauty of the first film has now been harvested down to its most rudimentary elements, ready to be processed and packaged. Much like the difference between these two images, 'Gladiator II' is a reduction, a gross simplification, of everything that made the original film so special.
Set 16 years after the events of the first film, 'Gladiator II' follows a stern young man (Paul Mescal, 'Aftersun') captured and sold into slavery after his home in Africa is attacked an conquered by Roman general Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal, TV's 'The Last of Us'). After being thrown into an arena to fight, the young man captures the attention of aristocrat Macrinus (Denzel Washington, 'Malcolm X'), who buys him to add to his collection of gladiators. Macrinus is drawn to this young man's palpable rage, a useful skill in the arena. The young man is brought to Rome to fight in the Colosseum in a series of games being staged by twin emperors Caracalla (Fred Hechinger, TV's 'The White Lotus') and Geta (Joseph Quinn, 'A Quiet Place: Day One'). However, the young man is recognised by Lucilla (Connie Nielsen, 'Wonder Woman'), who immediately knows him as her lost son Lucius, the true heir to the throne and son of Maximus.

Written by 'Napoleon' screenwriter David Scarpa, 'Gladiator II' immediately falls short of its predecessor, setting a frenetic and scattered pace that leaves little room for the audience to access the narrative or the characters. Scarpa's screenplay is a mess, weighed down by leaden dialogue and using the original film as a blueprint to a frustrating extent. In fact, so much of 'Gladiator II' is fixated on recapturing the spirit of the original as if it's a checklist without either understanding what that spirit was or having an impetus to assert its own identity. This is perhaps the biggest disappointment of this film, that it ends up being more a shadow of a better film than an interesting, engaging, distinct film of its own.
One of the best qualities of 'Gladiator' was the manner in which it balanced action, character and philosophical ideas on what makes good leadership and good governance. 'Gladiator II' tries to replicate this by adding too much of each ingredient - there's too much action divorced from the emotional stakes of the film, there are too many characters for you to be able to connect with, and the ruminating of what Rome has the capacity to be feel shoehorned in. None of the intellectual ideas in the film are expressed eloquently, falling back on a tired set of clichés and repetitions, most of them echoes of the first film. They might have had time to breathe if the film weren't falling over its own feet to move as fast as it could. There's no time to take anything in or to get to know the characters, and as a consequence, it's hard to be invested in their plight or even follow entirely what is going on.
The clarity of 'Gladiator' came from its central dramatic thrust, that of a man who seeks revenge in order to come to peace. Maximus is spiritually dead before the first act of the film is over, meaning that the rest of the film is his pursuit to regain the honour of his name and family before he returns, in literal death, to them. What 'Gladiator II' highlights is what an exceptional piece of storytelling the first film is and that the fact this sequel is filled to the brim with so much stuff robs it of the opportunity to register anywhere near the same emotional impact. Lucius is clearly positioned to fulfil the Maximus role in this film, but with so many storylines to juggle, we don't spend enough time with him - and when we do, much of it just asks him to brood. What emotional connection we do feel for Lucius is thanks to Paul Mescal, easily the best aspect of the film. It's really a sign that Mescal is one of the best actors we have that he can mostly make Scarpa's ham-fisted dialogue work, and the advantage he has through most of the film is that Lucius, like Maximus, does have a single action to play. Where Maximus was driven by the need for peace, Lucius is driven by an unquenchable rage. It's never entirely clear where this rage has come from, but Mescal grounds it with a physical, all-encompassing immediacy. You feel his need, his drive, to release this pressure off his soul, and it's only when the film tries to pivot him from a man trying to find an end to his fury to a potential saviour that the film robs Lucius, and consequently Mescal, of steam.
Lucius is clearly positioned to fulfil the Maximus role in this film, but with so many storylines to juggle, we don't spend enough time with him - and when we do, much of it just asks him to brood.
The rest of the cast do not fare anywhere near as well. Nielsen is practically playing a ghost of the fascinating version of Lucilla she gave us in the first film, Pedro Pascal is barely a sketch of a character whose job is just to be honourable, and Quinn and Hechinger have split the character of Commodus from the original film into parts, playing the petulant emperors as loudly and unhinged as possible. They are giving us cartoon versions of mad monarchs - but in their defence, the film doesn't give them much else to play with, denying them of any actual backstory. The only actor who comes close to emerging as unscathed as Mescal is Denzel Washington. Like the rest of the supporting cast, Macrinus is a sketch of a character at best, but Washington is too good an actor not to wring that sketch of all its juice for all it's worth. The character does start to activate in the last act, but by that point, he's been too much of a background player to suddenly emerge as a protagonist.
Even with questionable material, in the past Ridley Scott has been able to circumnavigate this issue, his innate sense of craft promising something at least dynamic and visually impressive. Unfortunately, that isn't the case with 'Gladiator II'. His execution is as leaden as the screenplay, with this follow-up lacking any of the original's lush romanticism and dream-like surrealism. The cinematography looks flat and cluttered, and the editing feels erratic and unfocused, especially in the set pieces. There's more action in this film than the first, but the lack of emotional stakes means it mostly feels like a distraction, and the lack of electricity in the cinematography or editing often make the spine of the action hard to follow. This is also the third film in a row for Scott where it feels like vital story or character information is missing, filled with lots of short scenes that don't give anything time to properly establish. Where 'House of Gucci' made up for this with its camp melodrama and 'Napoleon' benefited from its excellent Director's Cut, 'Gladiator II' both feels too short and too long all at once. It always feels like we're missing something, and as a consequence, the rhythm of the film never shifts or builds, making it feel predictable and plodding. Even the score can't muster up the energy to keep things moving. It would have been foolish to expect the score to match the iconic compositions from the first film, but here the music has no distinct flavour, no sense of musicality, no classicism or dynamism. Perhaps that's a good way to summarise the issues with the film as a whole. It feels conventional and uninspired in all the ways the original felt distinct and classical.
With each passing minute, I found myself more and more frustrated with 'Gladiator II'. It wasn't that it was failing to live up to the original. Anyone who goes into a sequel expecting a replication of the preceding film is setting themselves up for disappointment, and the last thing we should want is more of the same thing. In fact, it's all the ways this film tries to be like its predecessor that work against it. There are interesting ideas in 'Gladiator' that could have been expanded or ruminated on further with a sequel, but the narrative of that film sealed itself off with a pretty definitive ending. Unravelling the narrative to spin it into something new has meant a mess of threads not going anywhere, a ball of twine rolling around the floor and getting itself into knots. Would it have been simpler to sever all character ties with the first film and create something new? Possibly. Would it have been better to resurrect the legendary Nick Cave screenplay for a sequel set in the afterlife? It might have been weird but it would have been a lot more interesting than what we've got. As it stands, 'Gladiator II' leaves little to be excited about, a lacklustre facsimile of the original with Paul Mescal holding it all together by the sheer will of his talent and charisma. It's a film with little new to offer and little new to say other than recycling the same aphorisms we heard 24 years ago.