Copyright © 2000 by Michael
Segers, All rights reserved
Starring:
Maximus - Russell Crowe
Commodus - Joaquin Phoenix
Lucilla - Connie Nielsen
Proximo - Oliver Reed
Gracchus -Derek Jacobi
Marcus Aurelius - Richard Harris
Director
- Ridley Scott
Run
time, 154 minutes; rated R for violence
Last
week, I said we would continue exploring films dealing with men with a look this
time at Gladiator, after finding Frequency
and U-571
in some ways lacking. I'm sorry I've stuck Gladiator into a series,
because it stands—and stands very firmly—alone. I was not expecting such a
rip-roaring good yarn with so much character development and memorable
performance in a film that is a grand old-fashioned, even outdated,
blood-drenched sword-and-sandal extravaganza and at the same time is so much
more.
Gladiator
opens with a ten-minute battle sequence between the Romans and the Germans that
for sheer hellishness rivals the opening battle of Saving Private Ryan.
Fury, pain, terror are fused in a horrible mix of snow and fire. In this
setting, we meet Maximus (Crowe), a Roman general who, after defeating the
enemy, only wants to be reunited with his family. The emperor Marcus Aurelius
(Harris) offers him leadership of the Empire, but the emperor's son Commodus
(Joaquin Phoenix) kills his father, and orders the execution of Maximus and his
family.
Maximus
escapes but is sold into slavery. Proximo (Reed), a sometime gladiator himself,
buys Maximus and teaches him the ways of show business, to gain power by gaining
the affection of the audiences. Throughout the film, there are hints that we are
not just talking about Rome, but any parallels between ancient Rome and our time
seem to develop naturally, not with any undue attention. Maximus is an unlikely
parallel for a modern superstar, since he is kept in chains--but, then again….
Once
Proximo and Maximus reach Rome, the popular appeal of politicians and
entertainers comes together against an amazing replica of the city and a
convincing recreation of life in the city. I am sure that experts on all things
Roman are lining up to criticize and nitpick over the many details that enrich
this film. Life in ancient Rome is as distant as life aboard an interplanetary
space craft, however, so director Ridley Scott, known for such science-fiction
classics as Alien and Blade Runner, creates a sort of sociological
science fiction. He finds empathy with and understanding for people in the
ancient city, getting the human angle right, even if he sometimes errs, such as
with the announcement of a gladiator as the "undefeated champion."
And,
yes, there are gladiators, engaging in some of the most brutal fights I've ever
seen, fights drenched in blood, sweat, and urine. The mutilations,
decapitations, and sheer brutality underwhelm. There is so much violence that I
cast up a sort of filter, reminding myself that this was, after all, just a
movie, just an illusion, almost as phony as professional wrestling. While there
seems to be a criticism of the violence—Maximus expresses surprise that a
young boy is allowed to watch the games—at the same time, the violence of
ancient Roman entertainment is exploited for its entertainment value today.
Interestingly, the most significant act of violence in the story, the murder of
the wife and son of Maximus, is not shown. When Commodus taunts Maximus, he
recounts the fate of Maximus's family in two stark sentences that have come back
to me in the small hours of the morning ever since I first heard them.
The
script keeps things moving with poignancy and humor. Proximo has some of the
funniest lines in the script, and he is given ample life by Oliver Reed, who
seems to have relished every moment of this, his last performance. Commodus is
as fully-drawn a villain as you're likely to find, a complex mix of pathology
and sheer evil. Again, the words carry his most extreme depravity, and there are
some corners of his personality, including the possibility of pedophilia, which
are not even given words. Joaquin Phoenix brings a dark sense of frustration and
bitterness that makes his evil both human and believable.
Dereck
Jacobi and Richard Harris bring the authority of their age and experience to
their roles, while Connie Nielsen is convincing and glamorous as the daughter of
an emperor. It is fitting that she brings the film to a graceful conclusion
functioning almost as a priestess.
But
this is Russell Crowe's film. His role as the great general reduced to slavery,
finally earning his revenge and regaining honor at a terrible price, gives him
quite a lot to work with, and work it he does. He shows incredible physical
stamina and emotional depth in his performance, but he doesn't take the role
over the top. Maximus is always believable in his motivations and actions alike.
This characterization is close to the classic concept of the tragic hero, a man
who may be godlike but is a hero because he is completely human.
The
film is technically splendid. The computer graphics, including thousands of
virtual extras, are smoothly integrated into the flow of the film. The camera
finds some odd angles and points of view, with the fight scenes taking on a
hallucinatory quality, as if we can see bits and pieces of the scene, but not
the scene as a whole.
The
two and a half hour film moves along, with an occasional lag to work out some
plot details. And it all comes to a close worthy of an ancient tragedy, with the
sense that things have been made right, that a period of time out of joint has
been balanced, even with a sense of redemption. I doubt that the crowd I saw the
film with, who actually cheered some of the gladiator sequences were looking for
redemption, but, hey, this film has many things for many different members of
its audience. It is violent, extremely violent, but even if you have to turn
your eyes from the screen from time to time, Gladiator is a spectacle
worth seeing.
It’s
strange how one’s mind works, sometimes, but about halfway through the film, I
felt a nagging puzzlement. Why had I never before noticed the similarity between
the words gladiator and gladiolus? As it turns out, the words are
related, both coming from the Latin word for "sword," since the
gladiator carried a sword and the gladiolus has leaves shaped like a sword.
Explore the mysteries of the gladiolus:
www.wichitaflowers.com/kansas/gladolus.html
And
enrich your knowledge of historical gladiators:
www.geocities.com/Athens/Stage/3591/gladiators.html
Enrich
your enjoyment of the film Gladiator with the review by Karina
Montgomery:
http://reviews.cinerina.com/cinerina/manyhats.qry?function=detail&Layout_0_uid1=32909
What
does all of this have to do with my originally stated them of what it means to
be a man in contemporary America? Not much, perhaps. Perhaps it is a sad comment
that we have to look to ancient Rome to find a hero. Last year, two films came
out which presented such bleak pictures of American men today that we should
all, men and women and anyone else along for the ride, should be afraid, Fight
Club
and
American
Beauty.
To
gain the perspectives of other online critics, read what Maitland McDonagh has
to say about Fight Club:
www.tvguide.com/movies/database/ShowMovie.asp?MI=41570
And
get Veonica Mixon’s view of American Beauty at:
www.filmgazette.com/reviews/movies/1999/09/27/ameribeauty_0927.html
What
does this all mean? Do these films really say any more about men than Psycho
and its sequels say about motherhood? Is the depiction of problems that men
face, problems with the concept of manhood, in these films a symptom of a
problem in our society—or a cause of problems in our society? People of
different aesthetic and political persuasions have different answers, but I’m
not sure I have any answers. So, stumble along with me, on dry feet, of course,
and hope to find a noble thought to cling to, even if you do have to look
backward several centuries to find one.
The Rovin' and Ravin' Film Reviews