Watching Gladiator II without first watching its predecessor for beat-by-beat comparison or borderline masturbatory indulgence in nostalgia is a bizarre exercise in interpretation. It is watching shadows on the wall of a cave, an astute audience perhaps faintly aware that these shapes cannot possibly exist in a vacuum, that their movements and patterns are too strange, too specific, and too divorced from their context to belong solely to the wall, but with nothing else to draw from they are forced to accept these as a complete reality.…
