“Every time Ridley Scott makes a movie, the gods flip a coin.” So goes the maxim, and it definitely seems to be true: masterpieces such as Alien (1979), Blade Runner (1982) and American Gangster (2007) exist side by side with Robin Hood (2010), Exodus: Gods and Kings (2014) and his recent flop Napoleon (2023).

With Gladiator II, the sequel to the hugely successful Gladiator (2000), the coin rattles and spins on the table, teetering dangerously back and forth before landing disappointingly within the latter class of Ridley Scott films.

That’s not to say it was terrible. Indeed, with all the advances of CGI in the past few years, Scott does an incredible job with the cinematography. The scenes of Rome are sweeping and vast; the Colosseum battles are perfectly choreographed and thrillingly shot, resplendent with rabid monkeys, lumbering rhinos and bloodthirsty sharks.

That said, the fight scenes are pretty much the only fresh aspect to Gladiator II. An almost nauseating sense of déjà vu permeates the whole film. Much of the story rehashes the same ground as the original Gladiator, with attempts to differentiate itself explored flimsily and insubstantially (and if you haven’t seen the original, you might flounder with the storyline).

Set 16 years after the death of Maximus, the movie follows Lucius (played by Paul Mescal), who must also enter the Colosseum as a gladiator after the Roman Empire conquers his homeland of Numidia.

Lucius is the obvious counterpart to Russell Crowe’s Maximus, but the brooding strength and grounded complexity that immortalised Maximus is missing in Lucius. Mescal is a great actor, no doubt – I loved his performances in the recent Aftersun (2022) and All of Us Strangers (2023) – but his strengths lie in subtle, realistic performances. He can’t quite conjure up the aura of Russell Crowe, and the lacklustre writing leaves him floundering in an unchanging note of angsty rage.

Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger play the psychopathic twin emperors Geta and Caracalla in a clear imitation of Joaquin Phoenix’s Commodus. Yet where Commodus was calculating and cunning, Geta and Caracalla are hilariously unhinged, making them almost too idiotic to feel like an actual threat.

Connie Nielsen reprises her role as Lucilla – older sister of Commodus and former lover of Maximus – and quickly became my least favourite part of the movie. Her acting felt forced and heavy-handed, and her subtlety in the first movie was exchanged for bland melodrama this time around.

The movie does at least attempt to break from being a shot-for-shot remake of the original: Pedro Pascal plays Acasius, Lucilla’s husband and a war-weary general who hates the endless violence the emperors insist on. Yet this complex and nuanced character (bolstered by a strong performance from Pascal) is wasted as Acasius is removed from the action early on.

The other standout was Denzel Washington, who stuns as the manipulative former slave Macrinus with an insatiable taste for money and power. Washington’s charisma, humour and gravitas is on full display and he steals every scene he’s in.

Yet even then, the third act of the movie, which takes us through Macrinus’s rise and fall from power, is so rushed it borders on absurd, leaving audiences completely bewildered.

The original Gladiator was a complete story on its own. The sequel does not add to or build upon the world of its predecessor, it’s basically a remake that tells exactly the same story. It even calls into question the original movie with a frankly unbelievable revelation that undercuts Maximus’s devotion to his wife and son – literally his driving motivation throughout Gladiator.

So, as a final note, let’s look at the dialogue. I can hardly remember a single speech from the sequel, but the original was filled with memorable lines, such as Maximus’s famous shout “Are you not entertained?”

Am I entertained? Sure. Incredible fight scenes, occasionally exceptional performances, creative set pieces make it an entertaining movie. But a good one? Not quite. The gods flipped a coin, and unfortunately we were the losers.