In Ridley Scott’s Gladiator II, Rome teeters on the edge of collapse, its once-great empire crumbling under a corrupt ruler and the weight of its own violent history.

The dream that Rome once embodied is long gone, replaced by a land ruled by a pale-faced emperor, Geta (Joseph Quinn), and his scheming brother, Caracalla (Fred Hechinger).

At the center of this decaying empire stands the Coliseum, a symbol of both the brutal spectacle of the times and Scott's cinematic philosophy: go big or go home.

Set 20 years after the events of the original Gladiator, the film introduces a new gladiator, Lucius Verus (Paul Mescal), a mysterious outsider with a vengeful past.

His arrival in the arena sparks a violent and enthralling journey, as Scott weaves a tapestry of ruthless power struggles and intense drama.

The backdrop of a broken society craving entertainment becomes more pronounced, highlighting the film’s central theme: the insatiable thirst for bloodshed, both in Rome and on the screen.

While Gladiator II doesn’t reach the prestige of its predecessor, which won Best Picture in 2001, it still delivers a spectacle of sword-and-sandal excess.

This sequel, while entertaining, embraces its role as a swaggering, action-packed epic rather than a historical drama.

Enter Denzel Washington as Macrinus, the Machiavellian power broker whose performance is so over-the-top, it feels like an homage to 1990s Al Pacino.

Within the fractured empire, various factions seek to dethrone Geta and Caracalla, including Marcus Acacius (a decorated general just returned from Numidia, depicted with a blistering, action-packed siege).

Acacius, a loyal Roman, is disillusioned by the emperors’ bloodlust and begins plotting with his wife, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen), to overthrow the brothers.

As secrets unravel, Lucius emerges as a key player. The son of Lucilla and Maximus (Russell Crowe), Lucius was sent away to Numidia to grow up outside the empire’s treacherous power struggles.

Mescal’s portrayal of Lucius as a vengeance-driven gladiator stands out, adding complexity to the usual revenge-seeking trope.

His eyes glint with mischief, revealing a character far more nuanced than his thirst for retribution suggests.

Throughout the film, Lucius navigates the treacherous gladiatorial arena, surviving one brutal fight after another.

Meanwhile, Macrinus manipulates the public’s attention to divert focus from the emperors.

The power struggles, while engaging, sometimes veer into cartoonish territory, with Macrinus pulling strings with effortless cunning.

However, it’s the Coliseum scenes that truly captivate.

In their first appearance, gladiators face off against man-eating monkeys.

Then, it’s a rider on a charging rhinoceros. But the real spectacle is a flooded arena teeming with sharks, with mock islands dotted with palm trees.

These carnivalesque scenes are an over-the-top visual feast, the very definition of Scott’s "go big or go home" approach.

Though Gladiator II isn’t aiming for historical accuracy, it succeeds in turning history into a larger-than-life cinematic experience.

The film builds on a few historical kernels, inflating them into a spectacle that’s as much about spectacle as it is about bloodshed.

And Washington’s portrayal of Macrinus, brandishing severed heads and manipulating power with skill, proves irresistible.

Heads do, indeed, roll. Macrinus whips Rome into a frenzy, skillfully manipulating the masses.

But once things begin to unravel, the momentum of the film begins to fade.

The stakes don’t feel as compelling, especially after Macrinus’s cunning machinations give way to reckless decisions.

The final showdown sees two possible heirs to the throne: Lucius, with his birthright, and Macrinus, who almost seizes the throne through sheer wit. It’s no surprise that I found myself rooting for Macrinus. With Washington chewing the scenery and delivering zestful lines like, "That, my friend, is politics," he steals the show.

Gladiator II, a Paramount Pictures release, is rated R for "strong bloody violence." Running time: 148 minutes. Three stars out of four.