WHY ARE WE NOT ENTERTAINED? GLADIATOR II DOESN’T DO ENOUGH

SPOILER WARNING 

It’s been 24 years since Gladiator, Ridley Scott’s sweeping sword-and-sandals epic, roared onto the silver screen. In that time, it racked up twelve Academy Award nominations, five Oscar wins, and even spawned rumors of a wild, Nick Cave-penned sequel that never saw the light of day. Fast forward to 2024, and here we are, diving back into the arena with Gladiator II - a legacy sequel in the vein of Creed, Star Wars, and Indiana Jones, where a beloved story gets (literally and figuratively) passed down to the next generation.

Now, reviews of Gladiator II are pretty positive, with a current 72% critic consensus on aggregator website Rotten Tomatoes. You might be a little surprised to hear we’re not exactly in love with the screenplay. So today, let’s break down what soars, what stumbles, and what will echo in eternity. 

It’s important to mention that the version of David Scarpa’s screenplay (based on a story by him and Peter Craig) I’ve got my hands on is a shooting script. That means it includes production notes, last-minute revisions, and other elements that might have been rushed into place. As with any film, there’s often a gap between the screenplay and what ultimately makes it to the big screen—and we’ll be diving into those differences shortly.

OPENING IMAGE

Lucius (known locally as Mago) and his partner Arishat live a peaceful life on their farm in the North African kingdom of Numidia. Their quiet world is soon shattered by the sound of bells, harkening the arrival of Roman invaders.

SET UP

The couple are summoned to the city square, where they ready themselves for battle under the leadership of Jugurtha. Though Lucius is an exile in Numidia, he’s highly motivated to defend his adoptive home from the Romans. This is conveyed in a sharp piece of dialogue - when asked why he hasn’t made an offering to the native gods, Lucius replies he’d prefer to sacrifice a Roman instead. In a tender moment, Lucius and Arishat exchange rings, both of them bracing for the possibility that this could be their last day together.

Roman warships approach the clay city, led by Acacius, a seasoned commander and protege of Maximus, the hero of the first Gladiator. Acacius is cunning and quick to recognize the Emperor’s terms are unacceptable, so wastes no time trying to strike a deal.

Lucius leads a small group of fighters, rallying them with a stirring speech. As both sides loose their arrows, the battle erupts. The Numidians are quickly overwhelmed as the Romans make landfall, with Acacius at the front, leading the charge. Shocked to recognize the Centurion, Lucius is caught off guard. He calls to Arishat to shoot at Acacius, but she’s swiftly killed in the chaos of battle and tumbles into the sea.

Lucius is knocked unconscious by a mace and experiences a haunting vision of Arishat, escorted to the afterlife by Charun, the mythological ferryman. When he regains consciousness, he finds her body floating in the surf. Filled with grief, he snaps off the arrow that ended her life - which he will keep throughout the narrative as a reminder of what Rome took from him. Acacius claims the city for Rome, branding survivors with SPQR - the mark of Rome - and dispatches them for slavery. 

INCITING INCIDENT

Lucius is ripped from the bosom of Numidia and shipped toward Rome. Jugurtha suffers from a broken arm and is resigned to imminent death. He tells Lucius to blame the Empire, not himself for his loss. He recounts finding Lucius as a child lost in the desert. 

DEBATE

Acacius returns to the Imperial Palace as a celebrated hero, greeted with cheers from the masses. The twin Emperors, Caracalla and Geta, welcome him warmly and crown him as a conquering champion. His triumph offers little reprieve - the ambitious twins immediately set their sights on further conquests, dreaming of Persia and India.

Acacius returns to the villa of his wife Lucilla (daughter of legendary Emperor Marcus Aurelius) where she’s held hostage by Praetorian Guards. 

Jugurtha and Lucius are taken to the coastal town of Antium, where they’re deposited into a rudimentary arena. Macrinus, a wealthy lanista (purveyor of Gladiators) of African descent, unleashes a troop of Mandrill Baboons on them. Jugurtha willingly succumbs to their violent attack, but Lucius fights back - biting the silverback and throttling it with his chains. Immediately, his spirited display electrifies the crowd and piques the interest of Macrinus - who has lofty aspirations to rise to power. 

Lucius is taken to Macrinus’ sprawling estate, where he joins a group of potential gladiators in training under Viggo, a grizzled former champion. He describes the Arena as a pathway to their freedom. Lucius showcases his skill by defeating Viggo in sparring, impressing Macrinus.

BREAK INTO TWO

Brought to his new master’s library, Lucius declares that he will not fight for Macrinus. He is told he must fight or die. Similarly to Jugurtha, Macrinus urges him to direct his fury toward Acacius rather than him, and dangles the promise of the General’s head. 

This shared moment of purpose marks the story’s shift into Act Two. While Lucius doesn’t have much of an option, it’s the first time his choices and actions are truly proactive.

FUN AND GAMES

Lucilla is summoned by the petulant, bickering Emperors, who insist she isn’t a prisoner. They propose that she formally adopt them to grant them extra privileges and freedoms. When she refuses and denounces the upcoming games, they retaliate coldly, warning that if she won’t attend willingly, she’ll attend in chains.

At her villa, Lucilla grows uneasy, worried the maidservant might overhear Acacius’ brazen criticism of the Emperors. He vows to overthrow them, revealing plans to summon troops from abroad for a coup. The wheels of rebellion begin turning.

At a lavish party hosted by Senator Thraex, himself a fellow lanista, Macrinus rubs shoulders with royalty and patricians. Lucius catches the attention of Fortuna, one of Macrinus’ entourage, who has grown curious about the stoic ‘barbarian’. Thraex probes Macrinus about rumors that he plans to run for Senate, though this speculation is denied. The two then agree on a 2,000-denarii wager over which of their gladiators will emerge victorious.

An impromptu fight is arranged for the Emperors’ entertainment, when the rich and powerful demand the duo fight for their entertainment. Carcalla demands the use of swords over hand to hand combat. Lucius, reluctant to kill, appeals to his opponent for mercy. But when forced to fight, he ultimately triumphs.

When addressed by Geta, Lucius replies with a verse of Virgil’s poetry, surprising and delighting the patrons. In the baths, Macrinus queries how Lucius came to know these verses. The gladiator is evasive. He refuses Macrinus’ payment. Macrinus notices Fortuna’s growing interest in Lucius and orders her to seduce him.

Lucilla descends into the catacombs beneath her villa, where she meets with dissenting Senators Thraex and Gracchus to outline her plan to overthrow the Emperors. Acacius, their ringleader, dismisses any ambition to claim the title of Emperor for himself. He is in favor of establishing a Republic, though the consensus is that Rome is ill-prepared for this seismic shift. 

Lucius is transported to the Colosseum, where he shares a brief history of Rome with his fellow gladiators, lamenting the decline from its former glory and revealing his connection to the ancient city. 

Macrinus and Thraex double-or-nothing their bet. The Master of Ceremonies announces the arrival of the Emperors, along with Acacius and Lucilla. The crowd’s reaction is telling; lukewarm toward the twin rulers but deeply loyal to the legacy of Marcus Aurelius. Instructed to address the crowd, Acacius subtly hints toward his true loyalties, leaving the Emperors uneasy. 

Lucius and the other fighters from Macrinus’ ‘stable’ are pitted against the Emperors’ champion, Glyceo, who enters the arena riding a rhino. Despite Lucius' strategic instructions, his fellow gladiators ignore his commands and perish, while Lucius causes the rhino to run into the stadium walls through a dust cloud. From the pulvinar, Lucilla is reminded of Maximus. 

The Emperors’ recall Lucius as ‘the poet’ - piquing Lucilla’s interest. Overpowered by Glyceo, Lucius is granted mercy by the Emperors, but he refuses their offer. The crowd is stunned—no gladiator has ever defied the law like this. The fight continues, and Lucius, with relentless resolve, ultimately kills Glyceo.They let him live, believing he will attract crowds to subsequent games. 

Lucius’ injuries are tended to by Ravi, a doctor and former fighter. As he works, Ravi echoes the words of Maximus - what we do in life, echoes in eternity. 

MIDPOINT

Lucilla visits a bedroom in her villa, once occupied by her son, and finds the words of Virgil’s poem inscribed on the frieze - confirming her suspicion that Lucius is her lost son. 

In flashback, Maximus dies and Lucilla sends Lucius away, realizing he is the sole heir to the throne and his head will be sought after. She instructs him to return one day (which he now has) and to remember who he is (which he actively refuses). 

BAD TO  WORSE

Macrinus visits Lucilla, who tries to intimidate him into sharing details as to how he came into possession of Lucius. Macrinus senses that she has a connection to his fighter and reveals he was in the employ of her father, Marcus Aurelius. 

Fortuna visits Lucius in his holding cell, where she flirts with him and eventually reveals that, like him, she belongs to Macrinus - bound by her father’s debts. Having slept with him, she reports back to her master - a tactic he often uses to extract information from those around him. However, she fails to uncover the reason behind Lucius’ deep bloodlust toward Acacius, which draws Macrinus’ ire.

Lucius trains under the sadistic Viggo, whose brutal treatment of the gladiators only drives them to rebel. As Lucius resists, the other fighters begin to rally behind him. Meanwhile, Ravi continues to tend to Lucius' wounds. They develop trust. 

The Colosseum is flooded to recreate the historic battle of Salamis, and filled with live sharks. Lucius leads the party depicting Persian barbarians besieging the city of Athens. Thraex finds himself sinking deeper into debt with Macrinus, financial ruin drawing nearer with every bet.

As the factions wage nautical warfare, the sharks are whipped into a frenzy by blood in the water. seizes a crossbow and aims it at Acacius in the pulvinar, driven by the desire to avenge Arishat, Jugurtha, and Rome. But he misses - almost hitting Geta. 

Chaos as the Praetorian guard scrabble to protect the Emperors. In a symbolic moment, Macrinus gets one hand on the throne, signifying his ambition to rise to the top. Macrinus begins receiving offers to sell his prized gladiator but refuses, seeing Lucius as his ticket to power.

Lucilla visits Lucius in his cell, though he refuses to acknowledge her as his mother. She informs him that Maximus was his father, and that she never stopped searching for him. 

Macrinus strides into Thraex’s mansion, smugly declaring that he now owns it. Crumbling, Thraex reluctantly accepts an offer: provide information to clear his debts. In his desperation, he reveals Lucilla’s growing insurrection plot

BREAK INTO THREE

Acacius and his men are ambushed and captured, then brought to the Emperors in the small of the night. He is defiant before the Emperors, who want to publicly murder him and Lucilla. Macrinus seizes the opportunity to configure himself as the Emperors’ right-hand man, proposing that Acacius suffer in the Colosseum - an idea that would both entertain the masses and further his own ambitions.

FINALE

Lucius walks out into the arena, where he is revered by the crowds.Acacius, humbled, apologizes for his role in the capture of Numidia and the death of Arishat, but Lucius sees red. From the pulvinar, Lucilla is held in chains - forced to face the agonizing possibility of witnessing either her son or her husband, perhaps both, killed for the crowd's entertainment.

After a struggle, Acacius submits and accepts his death. The Emperors order his execution, but seeing his step-father’s vulnerability shifts Lucius’ blame from him to the Emperors’ themselves. He refuses their decision, lays down his sword. Macrinus implores the Emperors to kill Acacius. Archers pepper him with arrows and he dies in front of wrathful thousands.

Ravi brings Lucius to Maxmimus’ tomb, where memories of the man he now knows to be his father come flooding back. Macrinus rages at Lucius’ disobedience and chastises his gladiator, who defiantly refuses to be the lanista’s instrument. Macrinus instructs Viggo to ensure Lucius dies the next day - alongside Lucilla. 

The Emperors grow fearful as Rome descends into riots. Macrinus’ constant triangulation begins to turn the twins against one another. This results in Caracalla holding a blade to Geta’s throat. Macrinus controls him from behind like a shadowy puppet master, removing Geta’s head. 

Lucius and Lucilla finally reconcile in the Colosseum’s undercroft. Caracalla addresses the Senate, appointing his pet monkey Dondus as First Consul. He descends into madness, but Macrinus plays along with it. He’s thus appointed Second Consul and - given the Emperor’s state of mind - makes him the most powerful man in Rome. 

Macrinus rallies the Senators to assume control of the Praetorian Guard. He then confronts Lucilla and reveals he was once a slave under Marcus Aurelius, and has now risen to Emperor status himself. 

Accepting his status as a true heir to the throne, Lucius sends Ravi to rally Acacius’ men. Macrinus is now positioned to deliver the public Caracalla’s head when they rise up in anger, consolidating his power. 

Ravi leads the army to Rome. Lucius and his Gladiators overthrow Viggo and the slavers beneath the arena, then raid the armory. Lucilla is wheeled out into the arena to be executed. Lucius rallies the Gladiators. 

The Master of Ceremonies announces Lucius will be Lucilla’s champion against the oncoming Praetorians. He emerges, then is quickly followed by 200 Gladiators. The crowd rallies and begins fighting back against the archers in the stands, preventing their intervention. Caracalla gets word that Acacius’ army approaches the city. 

In a moment of treachery, Macrinus kills Caracalla, seizing the throne at last in an inopportune moment of peril. He takes a bow and shoots Lucilla, killing her. The fight rages on, but Lucius' gladiators gain the upper hand, rallying together to overpower their enemies. Macrinus, sensing defeat, leads his remaining forces out to confront the approaching tide of reinforcements. Lucius gives chase. 

Master and slave face off in the barren no man's land between the two armies, their clash a symbol of everything at stake; Macrinus fighting for power, and Lucius for a free Rome. Opposing forces stand back, watching the intense battle unfold beneath the Arch of Romulus and Remus. Macrinus is surprisingly agile and strong, but Lucius prevails. 

Lucius unifies the armies under the promise of a new Rome. 

CLOSING IMAGE

Lucius returns to the now desolate Colosseum. He calls out to the spirits of his parents, both of whom met their end in this very spot. With a heavy heart, he asks them to speak to him, seeking their guidance, forgiveness, or just a final connection.

WHAT’S THE ISSUE?

Let’s discuss some of our complaints about the screenplay.

The biggest issue is Lucius, the protagonist. Supposedly the emotional core, he struggles to escape Maximus' shadow. Described as vengeful, he rarely shows it - so we’re simply told about this quality rather than shown it. 

See how key scenes - break into two, midpoint, and break into three - sideline Lucius. Instead of driving the plot, he’s a leaf in the wind, passive and unengaging. By Act Three, when he finally rallies soldiers and disrupts the status quo, it feels forced. In Act Two, he’s shuffled between cells and arenas, spoon-fed information, reacting rather than acting, failing to command audience investment.

Unlike his father, a seasoned Roman commander, Lucius offers no credible reason for his combat and leadership skills. Raised in a peaceful Numidia, his prowess feels unearned and unexplained. The story skips over this gap, repeatedly sparing his life—not through merit, but because the plot requires it, as shown when the Emperors inexplicably pardon his public insolence.

Lucius is spared not out of logic, but necessity - you can’t kill the protagonist on page 50. Later, when he’s imprisoned, they conveniently cling to the ‘dignity of the games,’ though the Emperors are illustrated as capable of scheduling them at will. This contrivance undercuts the stakes, making his survival feel more like a plot requirement than a narrative choice.

The screenplay often writes itself into corners, resorting to killing characters to move forward. While death is central to Ancient Rome and the games, this pattern becomes predictable and exhausting. Whenever a character either A) imparts a message to Lucius or B) is on the cusp of achieving something - they’re killed. This works if used sparingly, but when every single character is canned, it diminishes impact. Check out the example below;

This contradicts the earlier rationale for sparing Lucius to entertain the crowd. However, since Acacius has fulfilled his narrative purpose, he’s unceremoniously written off.

Pacing stumbles throughout, particularly in the chaotic third act, but a standout issue is Lucilla repeatedly ‘realizing’ Lucius is her son. Take, for instance, when he mirrors Maximus' moves in the arena:

Then it happens again as she connects his poetic verse to an inscription in Lucius’ childhood room. This prompts a flashback - in case it wasn’t already bashing us over the head;

Then AGAIN in the Colosseum.

This subplot ‘mystery’, which already seemed glaringly obvious from the trailers, drags on far too long, bogging down the middle of the screenplay and wrecking its pacing.

A major omission in the film is Fortuna, whose role is drastically reduced. In the screenplay, she initially seems promising - taking an interest in Lucius (largely due to Paul Mescal’s… physical attributes) and potentially joining him to overthrow Macrinus. Instead, she tries and fails to elicit information from him;

In the finale, Fortuna just walks away from Macrinus’ control, which feels disappointingly anticlimactic. Her sudden escape from slavery comes off as dismissive and undermines the film’s broader themes, making it clear why this subplot was ultimately cut.

WHAT WORKS

Despite these criticisms, the screenplay isn’t without its strengths, and an ‘okay’ script translated into a well received film, even if it is a camper, popcorn flick kind of sequel. Let’s examine a few positives for fairness’ sake.

Acacius is an intriguing character, simply written to reflect his inner turmoil. Brought to life by Pedro Pascal, the General is elevated beyond the screenplay. See here during his victorious raid on Numidia;

The screenplay withholds the internal conflict of the character until his return to Rome, building suspense. However, the film reveals his regret over unjust orders right away, making him a more nuanced character. This choice actually creates a stronger connection with audiences, drawing focus away from Lucius.

The writers do an excellent job with Lucilla, crafting her treachery into a tragic situation where she must watch her husband and estranged son fight to the death. The antagonists take sadistic pleasure in her torment. It's one of the strongest parts of the story, as it traps her in a no-win situation, breaking the character down completely. 

The action is well written and engaging throughout despite feeling like something imagined by children - WHAT IF WE ADD SHARKS? This somehow manages to be the strongest and most consistent through line, eclipsing the drama. 

THE SEQUEL PROBLEM

Here we are again. This familiar problem - why can't they leave a good thing alone? It happens time and time again as producers return to the well of their previous successes. The problem with Gladiator II is that it fails to fully commit to being its own thing, yet its connection to the original feels superficial. It ends up being the worst of both worlds. The screenplay assumes you're already familiar with the first film and relies on it to do much of the heavy lifting.

This issue is so common in recent legacy sequels, we’ve taken to calling it the ‘that, but more’ fallacy. This is what fans are familiar with and want more of! Understandable. In this case, Gladiator ends on the promise of a democratic Rome, free from tyranny. After imagining that resolution for decades, it's disappointing to be told that - oops -  it never happened. Instead, we’re back to evil Emperors, and now there are two!

And as if that weren't enough, Gladiator II ends with the same promise: a free Rome. Why should we trust that this time, Ridley Scott?

This mirrors what happens in Star Wars: The Force Awakens; the Death Star is destroyed but - oops - there’s a new fascist threat and an even bigger planet killer. Other examples of the 'that, but more' fallacy include Top Gun: Maverick, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, and more. While it can work (as Top Gun shows), it rarely does. 

CONCLUSION

Gladiator II is a bit of fun. Which is a shame, because we expected a little more than that. If you came for the set pieces, hollow motivational speeches, or enjoy oiled up biceps, you’re in for a treat - but the Ancient Roman setting is so rich with character and content - that this screenplay feels to be lacking in both departments. This feels more like the fall of Rome than her lofty heights.

We bestow upon it a generous 3/5.