Take "Spartacus" and subtract: beauty, heroism, intelligence, competent editing ...

Rating: 5/10 (13 August 2000)

I love ancient world epics. Before seeing "Gladiator" I didn't think it was possible to make one that isn't worth watching; and, indeed, Ridley Scott hasn't done so either, although he certainly seems to have tried, and his film certainly is bad. For a film set in Rome at its most magnificent there's remarkably little spectacle (and what little there is is largely computer-generated - appallingly). For a film so reliant on fighting the combat scenes are confusingly, ineptly, MORONICALLY, shot and edited. Scott's latest fascination is with triple-framing. Every moment of combat looks as if it was lit by a stroboscopic lamp. This, plus occluded angles of view, over-use of extreme telephoto lenses, and rapid, more or less random editing - all combine to make it next to impossible to tell what the hell's going on. How I miss the clean, clear spectacle of "Spartacus" or "Ben-Hur". The other thing I miss is a score by Alex North or (better still) Miklós Rózsa. Hans Zimmer's music (think of "Crimson Tide", but more minimalist, more new-agey, less tuneful) is horribly out of place (and just not very good); it combines with the stupid camera-work to make the whole film play like a music video - or a 154-minute trailer for something else.
Well, not entirely. Every so often - not VERY often, mind you - some STORY coalesces out of the cinematic debris, and some grandeur rises above the digital fog. As I said: is it even POSSIBLE to make an ancient world epic in which this never happens? But such moments are rare, and usually undercut by some conceit of Scott's. They never last very long.
I'm amused (I know people tend to say they're amused when they're really annoyed; okay, perhaps I'm also annoyed) by those who say that this is a story of simple heroism, unsuited for cynics. The reverse is true. If you're more cynical than I am you'll probably like the film better. Two instances:
(1) When Lucilla meets Maximus in his cell, the latter has suddenly become the most cynical, world-weary, why-bother person on the planet; he refuses to so much as lift a finger to help Rome despite the fact that he has nothing to lose, and despite the fact that quest Lucilla offers him neatly coincides with everything he's been dreaming of for the past year or so. Where did THAT come from? I'm sure that one of the bullet points in "Screenwriting for Dummies" is: "make your hero a reluctant hero"; although I expect they go on to add, "but not reluctant to the point of selfish petulance".
(2) Commodus threatens to kill Lucius unless Lucilla betrays all the good guys. Well and good. But then we cut IMMEDIATELY to shots of the consequences of Lucilla's betrayal, and it becomes clear that we were meant to infer that Lucilla would, of course, turn traitor - Scott didn't think it worthwhile to show us what Lucilla's response was. The possibility that she would make a sacrifice for the cause she knows to be right is not meant to even OCCUR to us. (And it's not as if her character is so clearly defined that we have any idea how she, in particular, will act. It's clearly meant to be a GENERAL LAW that nobody makes noble sacrifices.)
The last point reminds me how poorly defined ALL the characters are. Some blame the acting, or the dialogue, for this, but there's nothing wrong with either: in fact, most of the lines are stirring - "corny", my foot - and impeccably delivered. The problem lies deeper. "Gladiator" has a disjointed, stitched-together script filmed by a director with no clear idea of what it was meant to be about.
P.S.: Surprisingly many people, including professional critics who should know better, have exhumed the mouldering old chestnut about how bloody modern cinema is the modern equivalent of the Ancient World's bloody gladiatorial combat. Some even think that when Maximus cries out, "Are you not entertained?", he's talking to us. Well, Scott's film is stupid in many ways, but this isn't one of them. Cinema is FICTION: it wouldn't appeal to us if it weren't. Gladiatorial combat was REAL: it wouldn't have appealed to the ancients if it weren't. Modern sport, and modern documentaries, are much closer to being modern equivalents of gladiatorial combat; but why suppose there IS a modern equivalent?