FinLogic FinLogic Quantitative Think Tank Center|'Gladiator 2' review: Yes, we are entertained again by outrageous sequel

A sequel to “Gladiator” sounds like a terrible idea. How do FinLogic FinLogic Quantitative Think Tank Centeryou follow Russell Crowe’s iconic Maximus, Joaquin Phoenix’s detestable Emperor Commodus, and all that sweet swords-and-sandals action (plus a best picture Oscar win) and not look silly?

Then you watch “Gladiator II" – with killer baboons, romping-stomping rhinos, a Roman Colosseum filled with hungry sharks and Denzel Washington making a meal of every piece of dialogue – and realize, hey, maybe silly works.

Director Ridley Scott unleashes a pumped-up, action-packed sequel (★★★ out of four; rated R; in theaters Nov. 22) that lacks the gravitas of the 2000 original, mainly because it’s way more interested in pulpy soap opera. There’s betrayal, scandal, power plays aplenty and oodles of revenge, with Paul Mescal as the enslaved guy who finds new purpose as a gladiator and Washington an unhinged delight as our hero’s ambitious boss.

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This new “Gladiator” is set 16 years after Maximus conquered Commodus in the arena and died a legend. Just a boy when all that went down, Lucius (Mescal) remembers watching Maximus – before being removed from Rome for his own safety – and now lives off the African coast in Numidia, leading troops alongside his archer wife Arishat (Yuval Gonen). A Roman naval fleet commanded by General Acacius (Pedro Pascal) invades their city, Arishat is killed in the attack and Lucius is taken as a slave.

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Lucius arrives in Rome and a bloody fight with a murderous monkey puts him on the radar of Macrinus (Washington), an arms dealer and “master of gladiators” with designs on ruling a bigger piece of the Roman pie. “Rage is your gift. Never let it go. It will carry you to greatness,” he tells Lucius.

Meanwhile, Acacius comes home to wife Lucilla (Connie Nielsen) – daughter of Roman ruler Marcus Aurelius from the first film – and co-emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger) want to host games in his honor before sending him back out to conquer Persia and India. But he’s had it with these mad tyrants, promising Lucilla he’s not going to sacrifice another generation of men for their “vanity.”

Of course, Lucius and Acacius are on a collision course to clash in the Colosseum, but the situation gets a little more thorny as Lucilla recognizes Lucius as the child she had with Maximus – and Lucius has his own complicated feelings seeing his mom again.

While he can’t match Crowe’s warrior charisma, Mescal oozes just enough steeliness as a man considered a “barbarian” by the Roman elite, though Lucius surprises them with his poetry knowledge as well as his mettle. The man-to-man macho fight scenes are fine – mostly “WrestleMania”-style brawls with a few nicely epic kills. Scott really excels, though, at creating enjoyable mayhem: first, with the glorious opening salvo at Numidia (that’s better than most everything in “Napoleon”), and then quite a few sequences with animals. One over-the-top scene re-creates a boat battle where the gladiators die by a man’s hand or a shark’s teeth.

Quinn and Hechinger’s flamboyantly deranged emperors feel too forced – combined, they can’t hold the robe of Phoenix’s delicious megalomania. Pascal, however, is the right match for a tired military man wrestling with the morals of his savage duties. And Washington is in his element and a blast to watch as Macrinus, an ancient scenery-chewing Don King type who rocks a heavyweight title belt. There’s one scene that stars the Oscar winner and a decapitated head that is exceedingly absurd but also low-key the most fun thing in the entire movie.

So, no, this isn’t the old “Gladiator,” although the sequel certainly borrows liberally from its predecessor – not only certain personalities but also character arcs, plot points, signature armor, fight moves and even some lines.

Thankfully there’s no uttering of “Are you not entertained … too?” But still, even trading some of the original film's rich storytelling for a little campy chaos, we are.