Is it meant to be a comedy? Gladiator II reviewed

It’s nearly 25 years since Ridley Scott’s Gladiator came out and you’ve probably been wondering what happened to the little boy in that film. I know I have. I can’t say it’s kept me up at night, but at the back of my mind it’s always been: where is Lucius, son of Maximus, nowus?

Well, Lucius, son of Maximus, is nowus a strapping lad with thighs of steel who has been forced to become a gladiator and fight for his life just like his pop. This film borrows heavily from the first instalment. True, it does have some new elements. It has Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington, monstrous man-eating baboons, sharks, a camp little monkey in a frock and all the historical inaccuracies we’ve come to expect from Scott. What it doesn’t do is bring anything fresh or even vaguely interesting to the table. Compared to the original it is plainly, and disappointingly, not as goodus.

The first Gladiator was hell to make – they were writing it as they went along; Russell Crowe (Maximus) kept storming out. Yet it had a certain magic and energy and, let’s remember, it won five Oscars and proved one of the final hurrahs for two of our last great drunkards (Richard Harris and Oliver Reed).

Narratively, 16 years have passed since then, and Lucius, son of Maximus, is nowus an adult played by Mescal. Lucius is taciturn, stubbled, brooding and an awesome fighter, also like his pop. He is living in Numidia (Algeria), having been banished there as a boy for his own safety by his mother, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen, reprising her role). The Roman army, led by Marcus Acacius (Pedro Pascal), invades, and a battle ensues and during this battle you’ll be asking yourself the same questions you were asking yourself during all the battles in Scott’s Napoleon.