When Ridley Scott opens a film with a bold, sweeping credits sequence, you know you're in for a cinematic experience of epic proportions. Over two decades after the original Gladiator redefined the historical drama genre, Scott returns to the director's chair to deliver a sequel that is as visually breathtaking and action-packed as one could hope. While Gladiator 2doesn't quite recapture the lightning in a bottle of its predecessor, its blend of jaw-dropping spectacle, visceral action, and a stellar cast delivers a theatrical experience that is becoming increasingly rare.

Set 16 years after the events of Gladiator, the film follows Lucius, the young prince saved by Maximus in the original. Secreted away by his mother, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen, reprising her role), Lucius has been living in exile to protect him from would-be usurpers. Meanwhile, the Roman Empire is ruled by twin tyrants, Geta)(Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger, whose unrelenting cruelty and unhinged leadership have plunged Rome into chaos.

The story opens with an epic naval assault as the Roman army, led by Acacius (Pedro Pascal), lays siege to Numidia. As the ships converge upon the shore, telescoping wooden platforms rise up from the bows of the armada to breach the coastal walls. It's a breathtaking visual spectacle reminiscent of Helm's Deep in The Lord of the Rings, and it's just the beginning of what Scott has in store. Among the Numidian defenders is a soldier played by Paul Mescal, who iseventually revealed to be the lost prince, Lucius. This attack on his adopted homeland has his life shattered as his wife is killed by an arrow, and he's captured by the Roman forces. Sold into slavery, he ends up under the control of Macrinus (Denzel Washington), a gladiator promoter (and once a gladiator himself) who promises Lucius a chance at vengeance if he continues to fight for him.

Paul Mescal is admirable as Lucius, providing a believable physical presence and conveying the brutality of the arena. His performance captures a man hardened by his experiences, and you believe he can endure the grueling battles. However, his character arc lacks a strong emotional anchor. While his journey is framed around a quest for revenge against Acacius, the narrative direction often dilutes this focus, making Lucius' arc (and by association, Mescal's performance) not one that will necessarily echo in eternity. His relationship with Lucilla is emotionally complex but is very thinly explored. Lucius harbors resentment toward her for sending him away. Further complicating matters is the fact that she is married and in love with Acacius, the object of his revenge. The emotional complexity is admirable in conceit but detracts from Lucius's revenge arc and isn't explored in depth enough to add meaningful characterization.

We have to talk about Denzel Washington, though. He is one of the greatest working actors today and is operating on an entirely different level in this film. (I mean that in the best way possible). Magnetic in every scene, he chews on every line of dialogue with captivating ferocity. Macrinus is cunning, ruthless, and ambitious, yet Denzel infuses the character with just enough gravitas and charm to make him unforgettable. He steals every scene he's in, delivering a performance that significantly elevates the material. From the moment we're introduced to Macrinus, it's clear that he is a character to watch—or, perhaps more accurately, to watch out for."

Unfortunately, David Scarpa's script doesn't always know what to do with these characters. Lucius' journey feels scattered, lacking the driving force that defined Maximus' singular quest for vengeance in the original. On one hand, characters like Macrinus and Acacius are richly drawn, offering nuanced perspectives that complicate the narrative. Macrinus is sympathetic in his dealings with Lucius yet driven by ambition to rise beyond his role as a gladiator promoter. Acacius, meanwhile, is torn between his duty as the Roman army's leader and his moral conflict as Lucilla's husband, a man empathetic to the plight of the conquered. These characters enrich the story with their complexities but also dilute Lucius' arc's emotional resonance.

The twin tyrants, Geta and Caracalla, offer a refreshing contrast. They are straightforward villains, and their manic energy makes them immensely satisfying to root against. Fred Hechinger and Joseph Quinn revel in their characters' unhinged sensibilities, with Hechinger, in particular, stealing scenes with his chaotic portrayal of Caracalla. Their over-the-top villainy provides a much-needed focal point for the audience's emotional investment, even if they aren't the central targets of Lucius' vengeance. Without delving into spoilers, I couldn't help but wish that Scarpa's script had delivered a more satisfying resolution in the final act. At times, the climactic moments veer into "bad guy versus bad guy" territory, which, while intriguing, leaves the audience yearning for the heroes to be the ones to decisively vanquish their foes. It's yet another reason that Mescal's Lucius doesn't emerge from the film with the same resonance as Russell Crowe's Maximus.

The real star of this film has to be Ridley Scott. His direction in the battle sequences is a technical marvel and a stylistic statement. Opting to shoot these massive set pieces in sequence with real sets, real extras, and practical effects, he prioritizes realism over modern cinematic shortcuts. Sweeping wide shots capture the grandeur of the scale, while the camera angles provide ample coverage to ensure no detail is lost. This approach imbues the battles with a visceral tangibility that few directors can match. However, this commitment to scale occasionally comes at the expense of emotional immediacy. The lack of dramatic close-ups during critical moments in the battles sometimes limits the audience's ability to fully connect with the emotional stakes unfolding on the battlefield. Still, it's hard not to be awestruck by the sheer spectacle unfolding before us.

Scott's signature opulence and grandeur permeate every aspect of the film, extending far beyond the awe-inspiring battles. Even the opening credits sequence, a rarity in modern blockbusters, feels like an operatic overture—setting the tone and mood with a reverence that underscores Scott's commitment to delivering a true cinematic experience. His approach to filmmaking exudes a level of craftsmanship that stands head and shoulders above much of what we see in the industry today.

Gladiator 2 boasts a massive budget, and it's evident that every dollar is up on the screen. From the lavishly detailed costumes to the intricately constructed sets and jaw-dropping practical effects, the film creates a world that feels alive, tactile, and utterly immersive. Scott eschews an overreliance on CGI, opting instead for a grounded realism that heightens the stakes and authenticity of the story. That said, he's also not afraid to push the envelope of believability in the name of spectacle—baboons, rhinos, and even sharks, for example, go HARD. It's hard to pinpoint exactly why, but Scott's ability to ground so much of the visual spectacle in reality makes it easier to accept the more fantastical elements that stretch the bounds of believability, resulting in action that is equal parts thrilling and outlandishly entertaining.

Ultimately, Gladiator 2 is a triumph of spectacle. While it may not have the same enduring qualities as its predecessor, it's a testament to Ridley Scott and a reminder that nobody does it quite like him. See it on the biggest screen possible let's keep Sir Ridley in that director's chair for as long as humanly possible—cinema is better for it.

— 4 / 5 ⭐