OxfordPress.com

Grade: A-

Verdict: Two thousand thumbs up. Make that 200,000 if you want your verdict juiced with computer effects.

Details: Starring Russell Crowe. Directed by Ridley Scott. Rated R for extreme violence and perverse sexuality. 2 hours, 33 minutes.

Rate it: Write your own review

Review: "On my signal, unleash hell!"

That's not director Ridley Scott instructing his extras. That's his star, Russell Crowe, giving orders to his Roman legions in the sensational new summer flick "Gladiator."

And, boy, do they. Unleash hell, that is.

Everything old is gloriously new again in "Gladiator," a sweeping, vibrant, eye-popping re-invention of the old sword-and-sandals genre that most of us thought was, if not gone with the wind, at least as tattered as Kirk Douglas' "Spartacus" toga.

But here it is, re-imagined and ripe with computer effects that give us a jammed Circus Maximus as convincingly as they do a desert vista disturbed by a roiling, unquiet sky.

Crowe, however, is the crucial element. You may remember him as the complex, pasty, overweight Jeffrey Wigand in "The Insider" (which copped him a best actor Oscar nomination) or as the brutal but pure cop in "L.A. Confidential." In "The Gladiator," he's stalwart, muscled General Maximus, who becomes the favorite of frail Emperor Marcus Aurelius (Richard Harris, looking as if he were floating out of "Camelot"). The emperor wants Maximus, as his secretly designated successor, to restore Rome to her former glory as a republic and shed her whore-of-Babylon image as a pervert magnet.

But before Maximus can make up his mind--frankly, he'd rather go home to his wife and kid--the emperor's devious (and deviant) son, Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix), seizes power. He slaughters his rival's family (a scene out of Sergio Leone) and orders Maximus himself murdered. But our hero somehow escapes, ends up a slave, is bought by Proximo (the late Oliver Reed) and trained as a gladiator.

"I paid money for you so I could profit from your death," Proximo explains to the new "hires" (who include "Amistad's" Djimon Hounsou). In other words, welcome to show biz, circa 180 A.D.

The upside is that Proximo knows star power when he sees it. And as Maximus brings his battle-honed skills into the arena, his boss smells the Big Time--i.e., Rome. The timing here is doubly fortuitous. First, Commodus has decided to play to the mob by feeding them a steady diet of bread and circuses in which death becomes spectacle (Wrestlemania in its purest form). Second, Maximus' long-simmering hatred for Commodus means one thing: that he longs to get within a sword's length of him. And that's something that superstardom in the arena can deliver.

There's a touch of love stuff in the air, but only a touch. Commodus has certain incestuous yearnings for his far more talented sister, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), who shares a sketched-in romantic past with Maximus (this part is frankly forced). More to the point, she has a young son, which gives her mad brother control over her, lest he harm the boy.

But even with Derek Jacobi wandering around the Senate (remember "I, Claudius"?), political intrigue is fairly minimal here. Scott keeps his eye--and his computer effects--on the prize, so to speak, whether it be the bustling markets of Rome or the blood-soaked Colosseum, where Maximus and company give the Romans (many of them computer-generated) their thumbs'-worth of blood, sweat and guts.

There are elements here of "Spartacus," of "Braveheart," even of "Saving Private Ryan" (Scott does for costume epics what Spielberg did for World War II). But "Gladiator" is also, in many ways, its own movie. That's mostly due to Crowe's sensational portrayal. There's a hint of early Anthony Hopkins, of young Richard Burton. You can even glimpse some of Mad Max's, aka early Mel Gibson, sang-froid.

But essentially what we get is pure Crowe, and that's something to crow about. The "pageant of death" that Commodus stages daily is as violent as it is jaw-droppingly watchable--a measure, perhaps, of our New Millennium jadedness. Yet standing at its center, always, is Crowe, hewing to his slogan "strength and honor."

Crowe gives the picture its, well, brave heart. But unlike Gibson, he doesn't fight for freedom, lost love or country. He fights for revenge. He fights because he does it well and it gives him power. His is a joyless executioner's song--eerily modern in its swift, effective remorselessness.

Scott has made some awful films ("White Squall") and some awfully good ones ("Alien," "Thelma & Louise"). With "Gladiator," he clearly understands two things. One is the amazing opportunities presented by besieging ancient Rome with a high-tech arsenal. The other is Crowe's charisma.

Yet that's all the director needs to understand. Because, if nothing else, this movie proves that we still like our bread and circuses. Especially if they come packaged with an uplifting theme.

— Eleanor Ringel Gillespie, Cox News Service

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