Gladiator

"Gladiator" is one of the few big, splashy historical dramas that will appeal to both women and men. Men will appreciate how beefy and lethal Russell Crowe looks in director Ridley Scott's gorgeous battle visuals. They'll identify with Crowe's simultaneous condemnation of and participation in the Roman Empire's unbelievably bloody gladiator culture. And they'll ultimately cheer Crowe on as he proves his undying devotion to his family, as he avenges their savage deaths at the hands of the Emperor's men by inflicting even more savage deaths on the rest of the Emperor's men.

Women, on the other hand, will appreciate how gorgeous Russell Crowe looks in Ridley Scott's beefy and lethal battle visuals. They'll identify with Connie Nielsen's simultaneous condemnation of and participation in some of the weirdest political infighting with a sibling ever depicted onscreen. And they'll ultimately cheer Crowe on as he proves his undying devotion to his family (as he avenges their savage deaths at the hands of the Emperor's men by inflicting even more savage deaths on the rest of the Emperor's men). There's something for everyone!

Both Ridley Scott and the moneymen for "Gladiator" undoubtedly realized that, if you are going to name your gladiator "Maximus" and have him defeat four tigers and a man who outweighs him by about 100 pounds as one of his lesser exploits, you need a real man to play the gladiator. Crowe, ladies and gentlemen, is that man. He covers all the normal testosterone bases: he's pumped, handsome, takes no prisoners, and really knows how to stare people down until they seem about to wet their pants with fear. But he also has that indefinable presence, that essence of effortless masculinity, which lets everyone in the film and in the audience know that there is just no way anyone is going to stop him from doing whatever he wants to do. His intensity parts waters, cowers the powerful, and overawes mortals. John Wayne had it, Chow Yun-fat has it, and so does Crowe.

Even better, Crowe gets the support he needs to turn this movie from good into almost-great. Joaquin Phoenix is the bad emperor Commodus, who wishes to dissolve the Roman Senate, acquire the love of the people, take care of Maximus once and for all, and make sweet love to his sister. Astonishingly, he makes this character intermittently sympathetic; his madman's rants about honoring his father by killing him sound utterly convinced, if not utterly convincing. His operatic displeasure and suffocating self-pity carry the gravitas unique to a crazy man, but Phoenix manages to give layers to his character that aren't in the script. It's quite amazing to see.

Commodus's desire to make sweet love to his sister is easier to identify with when you take into account Connie Nielsen's performance. While attractive, she is not the morsel of babe-aliciousness that one might expect from the role; she, too, knows how to convey intensity. When Crowe and Nielsen have their obligatory romantic subplot, it appears to be a match of two people with motivations and emotions, rather than a machination of the script. Nielsen is also properly disgusted with her brother, reacting not with counterproductive fits but with icy flame and treacherous secretive plotting, which she seems to have a preternatural talent for. Oh, and she does wear her elaborate costumery well.

Speaking of which, all the elements of the biggun historical drama are here too: expensive-looking costumes, big reconstructed sets (in this case, big partially computer-generated sets), dated dialect (this is the first historical drama in a long time completely free of anachronistic dialogue), and a poster reading "Gladiatus Violentia." Scott, always a master of visuals, and his cinematographer provide bruising battle footage which gives an idea of the senseless, rousing brutality of hand-to-hand combat, big lush shots of countryside when the occasion demands it, and numerous shots of attractive people wandering around the attractive reconstructions which are useless but fun.

This film has two problems. One, it is too long, at two-and-a-half hours; it would have been more fun to watch Crowe kill people if he did it a little less. Two, the coda to the film is unspeakably cheesy, for which Scott should probably be blamed. Still, men and women alike will get a big ole rush out of "Gladiator." You'll wonder how the Roman Empire ever fell with people like Russell Crowe defending it.

DON'T PRESS IT

I managed to get the press material for this film (most of the time, they just send us at the Diamondback ("Quilted for Your Parrot's Comfort") the pass without the material). I always love reading press materials, because they always contain hilariously unfortunate passages. Here are two:

"The timing of the shoot turned out to be serendipitous, as the British Forestry Commission had slated the area, known as the Bourne Woods, to be deforested. Ridley Scott and his production team were only too happy to comply. 'I said, "I'll do it for you. I'll burn it down,"' the director recalls."

And:

"The production [in Morocco] also employed local citizens as extras in the arena and in the bazaar, where both slaves and animals were purchased. As befit the setting, the weathered faces of the Moroccans gave no hint that they would return to the 20th century when Ridley Scott called 'cut.'"

Someone needs to explain some things to someone else. It would be me, but no one is paying me money to do it.

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