Gladiator II

Ridley Scott’s Gladiator (2000) is a cinematic masterpiece. It’s the kind of film that doesn’t need a sequel. The only justification for one is the Roman numeral “II” — and yet, here we are. Since they made it, naturally I'm all in.

The Roman numeral two perfectly describes this film. This is a story of repetition, of twin characters, dual identities, double gladiators and mirrored fates. There's even twice the bloodshed in the Colosseum. 

Scott’s pleasurably immersive epic about ancient Roman fighters will definitely entertain. Especially to those of us always thinking about the Roman empire.

The first Gladiator followed Maximus (Russell Crowe), a Roman general wronged by a usurper, who eventually fights his way to the Colosseum, becoming a crowd favorite. Joaquin Phoenix’s scene-stealing Commodus was one of the film’s most memorable antagonists.

Gladiator II shifts focus to Lucius (Paul Mescal), a humble man from Numidia, Africa, thrust into the heart of Rome by the violent political machinations of General Acacius (Pedro Pascal). From there, he’s thrust into the Colosseum, where his fate, like Maximus’s, is sealed. The sequel doesn’t stray far from its predecessor, with symbolic callbacks — including a shot of hands grasping grain — reinforcing the connection.

Paul Mescal, one of the finest actors there is, is no Russell Crowe, as he struggles to command the gravitas that Crowe brought to Maximus. He even seems uncomfortable at times in his own gladiator gear. Denzel Washington, in the Phoenix role, shines. Connie Nielsen also returns as Lucilla, almost 25 years after her first appearance, and she brings a sense of redemption to her character, adding emotional depth.

Where the original Gladiator was more of a film, Gladiator II is a muscle-bound spectacle designed to pack theaters. I prefer lions and tigers to CGI baboons and sharks as well as and accuracy like uh, "the printing press hasn't been invented yet so put down that newspaper," but the action is relentless, and almost every scene involves a physical or political battle. It's thrilling, and it’s impossible to look away. 

This all lands in a unique moment in modern history, as it is also a film about hope for the people and the promise of a Rome that is not run by dictators. It’s an intriguing reflection of our own political climate.

Gladiator II might have jumped the sharks once or twice, but still the epitome of Roman epics. Ridley Scott is having good fun as did Washington— and so did our packed audience

In a nutshell: Scott’s pleasurably immersive epic about ancient Roman fighters will definitely entertain.

Where to watch it: In theaters now.

Would it be better with Olivia Colman: For sure; but not needed.

Award potential: I expect to see this film nominated for Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor (Washington) and all the technical categories, battling those out with another sequel, Dune 2, as well as Wicked. Mescal has a great shot at Best Actor but may need to campaign in that tough category given his softer take on the gladiator.

The Ten Buck Review: Totally ten buck worthy.

Anora

Anora, directed by Sean Baker (The Florida Project), is the first American film to win the Palme d'Or in over a decade. It is also on most lists of likely Best Picture award nominees and on all early top ten lists for the year.

I was initially excited to see what the famed director would do with a love story or perhaps discover how he'd merge his authentic storytelling with something more widely commercial. My reaction to the film in one word is — disappointment. My fault for reading headlines noting that this was a love story with screwball comedy thrown in. It has neither.

This "modern Cinderella story" revolves around the relationship between Brooklyn stripper Anora/Ani (Mikey Madison) and Vanya, the heir to a Russian fortune. I never felt any romantic connection or otherwise.

Baker has always excelled at portraying fully-developed characters on society’s margins, but here the story feels like a well-worn template. Anora’s journey—her relationship with the wealthy Vanya, her struggles and the eventual fallout—feels less like an exploration of the American Dream and more like a recycled version of narratives we've seen before. By making its titular character a stripper, everything is all too familiar. Swap Vanya's Russian parents with drug dealers and you've essentially got Hustlers or Zola.

I think what Baker is attempting to explore is the joy and despair of someone from the fringes who briefly tastes success only to lose it all. There’s an important theme about the fragility of dreaming big, but it doesn’t quite come through with the depth or nuance that Baker’s best work usually has. Unfortunately, I think he just made a raunchy and sad remake of Pretty Woman.

In a nutshell: Anora isn’t a bad film—it just doesn’t live up to the potential that its premise and director suggested and it's not a lot of fun so I can't recommend it.

Where to see it: In theaters now.

Would it be better with Olivia Colman: Wouldn't anything?

Award potential: I'm in the minority on this one, look for it in every major category. Mikey Madison's last scene is a heartbreaker.

The Ten Buck Review: Not worth ten bucks.

A Real Pain

Writer, director, and star Jesse Eisenberg teams up with (an outstanding) Kieran Culkin to craft a character-driven flick about mismatched cousins, neurotic David and charismatic Benji, as they trudge through Poland on a “Holocaust tour” to honor their grandmother’s memory.

What starts as a “cringe comedy” road trip film soon reveals itself to be a lighthearted exploration of grief, identity and connecting. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

 

Culkin shines as Benji, infusing him with enough warmth and complexity to make even the dark moments feel alive and relatable. Eisenberg’s script is super sharp, balancing banter with authentic laughs. 

The dynamic between the cousins is so real and dysfunctional that you’ll swear you’ve been on a trip with them in a past life.

A Real Pain isn’t going to excite many cinemagoers to leave their couch on a Friday night, but that’s precisely the point. It’s a throwback to the days of small-scale, character-driven films (Woody Allen, Rob Reiner) that Hollywood has mostly sidelined.

 Eisenberg has crafted a lovable little movie that’s witty, melancholic, and full of heart—perfect for those who appreciate a little laughter with their emotional introspection.

Simply put: At a perfect little 90 minutes, it’s an endearingly awkward journey worth taking.

Where to watch: In theaters starting November 11, 2024.

 

Would it be better with Olivia Colman? Absolutely.

 

Award Potential: Culkin is likely to get some awards attention, but Eisenberg is just as impressive in a subtler but arguably trickier role. I imagine showier films will be in discussion by January.

 

The Ten Buck Reiview: Worth Ten Bucks