It’s taken exactly twice as long as real-life Emperor Commodus’ reign to get another Gladiator movie. But finally, 24 years since Russell Crowe, Joaquin Phoenix, and the dog that played Well’ard in Eastenders taught us there’s no place like Rome, it’s here. Almost.
The swelteringly anticipated sequel to Ridley Scott’s sword-and-sandle epic hits cinemas this autumn. The original, about an all-conquering general betrayed and sold into slavery by a jealous new emperor, proved box office magic in 2000. It not only raked in USD 460 million worldwide, but won five Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Actor.
So big sandals to fill.
Beyond what we can glean from the trailer, the plot of the film is as closely guarded as an imperial bedchamber. Pretty much all we know is who’s in it – Pedro Pascal, Paul Mescal, Denzel Washington and Connie Nielsen. And, of course, Scott is again in the folding chair. We also know that it picks up the same story some 20 years later, following the (familiar-sounding) trajectory of Lucius (Mescal) – the cherubic boy in the first film, now with stubble and muscles – as he transforms into a ruthless gladiator.
As for the plot, here's what we know: Lucius, now an adult, has traded life at the top table (along with his mother) for one in the fields of Numidia, northern Africa. Now with a wife and child, he finally appears to have found inner peace. But then the armies of co-emperors Caracalla (Fred Hechinger) and Geta (Joseph Quinn) invade Numidia, led by general Marcus Acacius (Pascal). Lucius is captured and finds himself in the shackles of the very empire he was once meant to rule.
Washington’s character is completely new – a former slave turned wealthy merchant called Mercius with his own grudge against the emperors. Cut from a similar cloth as the late-Oliver Reed's Proximo, most certainly.
So what can we expect? A lot more of the same, probably, and more. It’s being touted as the blockbuster of 2024. But how close to historical truth does it tread, and who were the real-life Romans who inspired this epic?
Played in the movie by Fred Hechinger and Joseph Quinn, these brothers gave off strong Cain and Abel energy throughout their lives, the former now recognised as one of the most bloodthirsty tyrants in Roman history.
Upon his deathbed in AD211, their father Septimius Severus, made them co-emperors – surely one of the greatest errors in judgment of the Roman era, in a crowded market. Trouble was, Severus didn’t set out a division of rule for the brothers, who engaged in a bitter tug-of-war for the best parts of the empire.
For two years they ruled miserably together, the time in which Gladiator II is set. But in the end, their fragile egos could no longer contain their jealousies, and Caracalla had Geta murdered by his own guardsmen. Geta is said to have died in their mother’s arms. Caracalla then went full-Stalin on Geta’s memory, having his image removed from every painting in sight, and ordering the wholesale deaths of his supporters.
Caracalla was also known for a face as ugly as his soul. He earned the nickname Tarautas, after one of the most famous gladiators of the time, who also had a reputation for being offensively ugly and violent.
He did some good things, like grant Roman citizenship to all free men throughout the Roman Empire, and build the great public Baths of Caracalla in Rome. But most of that was overshadowed by the trail of death and destruction he left in his wake. Once, after a satirical play mocked him in Alexandria, Egypt, he ordered the indiscriminate massacre of thousands of Alexandrian citizens as payback. He had senators murdered, slaughtered entire populations of cities he conquered, and ultimately left the empire’s economy in tatters.
He was said to have studied Greek and could quote long passages from the Greek playwright Euripides but also that he strongly despised education and educated people.
In some way Caracalla died as he lived – urinating on whatever he saw before him. While travelling through southern Turkey to visit a temple, he stopped for a toilet break by the side of the road. There, as he relieved himself in the mud, a disgruntled soldier named Justin Martialis, ran over and stabbed him to death. He was 29 years old.
You’ll remember Lucilla from the first film – the beautiful emperor’s daughter caught in an uncomfortable love triangle between her brother (Commodus) and former lover (Maximus).
First minor discrepancy between fact and fiction: Lucilla died six years before Caracalla was born. But still, details.
Born into the purple of imperial Rome, Lucilla was no stranger to power and privilege. As the daughter of Emperor Marcus Aurelius, she was groomed for a life of political significance. At the age of (ahem) about 11, she was married off to her father's co-emperor, 29-year-old Lucius Verus. It was a union designed to cement their alliance. As empress, she enjoyed the trappings of her position, but fate had a cruel twist in store.
Verus' untimely death left Lucilla a widow, her power and influence diminished. Yet, her lineage made her a valuable pawn in the game of empires. A hasty remarriage to a senator followed, but she yearned for the power she once held.
When her brother Commodus ascended the throne, Lucilla watched in dismay as his erratic rule threatened to unravel their father's legacy. Driven by ambition and a desire to protect Rome, she became entangled in a daring plot to assassinate the emperor. However, the conspiracy was foiled, and Lucilla faced the wrath of her brother.
Exiled to the picturesque island of Capri, Lucilla's fate was sealed. Isolated and disgraced, she met her end at the hands of an assassin sent by Commodus.
Probably the biggest creative liberty, this, given that the real Lucius died before Commodus even became emperor. His full name was Lucius Verus II, the son of Lucilla and Lucius Verus (Marcus Aurelius' co-ruler). He had two sisters: Aurelia Lucilla and Lucilla Plautia and a little brother named Pompeianus from his mother's second marriage.
Lucius and his two sisters all died in childhood, most likely of illness, which was common for children of the time. Pompeianus, however, did survive childhood to become a soldier and, later, a senator. He was five when his mother was executed, and in his early 30s when he was murdered by bandits on the orders of emperor Caracalla.
While the plot for Gladiator II is shrouded in secrecy, the historical backdrop of Emperor Caracalla's reign offers a glimpse into the potential brutality and political intrigue that could unfold on screen. Caracalla's reputation for violence and ruthlessness, coupled with the power struggles and betrayals that characterised his rule, provides fertile ground for a compelling and action-packed sequel.
Whether the film delves into the darker aspects of Caracalla's reign, such as his penchant for massacres and purges, remains to be seen. However, the historical context suggests that the gladiatorial arena could be a fitting stage for a tale of vengeance, survival, and the struggle for power in a corrupt and decadent empire.
Originally published on Esquire UK
If Shōgun's events feel like they're based in historical fact, that's because most of the story is based on a real-life power struggle. Author James Clavell borrowed many historical figures from the 17th century for his 1975 novel of the same name—which greatly dramatised the story of the first Englishman to sail to Japan. His work of historical fiction even garnered a popular miniseries in 1980, which was such a hit that many cultural observers attributed the show's success to the rise of interest in sushi in the West.
Although Clavell—who hailed from England himself—beefed up both the story of John Blackthorne's arrival in Japan and his influence on the eventual Tokugawa shogunate, many of the characters and events depicted in Shōgun are based on historical fact. This week, FX debuted the first two episodes of its take on Shōgun—and it's already a hit amongst critics. The series stars Hiroyuki Sanada (John Wick: Chapter 4) as Lord Toranaga and Cosmo Jarvis (Persuasion) as John Blackthorne. But what's fact and fiction in the latest Shōgun adaptation?
The events of the series begin with the death of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who was the second "Great Unifier of Japan." In Shōgun, he's called the Taikō, which was the title given to a retired advisor of a former emperor. Hideyoshi carried on the work of Oda Nabunaga, the first Great Unifier of Japan, following nearly a century-long of civil war. After the Taikō died, a new path opened for infighting. Five great lords, called daimyo, vied for the title of shōgun: the de facto ruler of Japan.
Japan feared another century of conflict after the Taiko’s death, so Hideyoshi established the five elders who would rule in his place. A prominent member among the five included Tokugawa Ieyasu, renamed Yoshii Toranaga in Shōgun and brought to life by Sanada. Over the span of just two years, he leveraged his power and close connection to the Taiko to become the new shōgun. Assembling his forces, he took Osaka Castle and easily won the bloody battle of Sekigahara—which is one of the most important battles in Japanese history.
Around this time, Takagawa met William Adams, the first Englishman to sail to Japan. Adams eventually became a trusted advisor to Takagawa, who was impressed by his knowledge of Western ships and navigation. He commissioned Adams to Japanese ships—and he later replaced Jesuit Padre João Rodrigues as the shōgun's official interpreter. In the miniseries, Adams’s counterpart, John Blackthorne (played by Jarvis), holds much more significance to Tokugawa’s rise to power than he did in real life. What really won Tokugawa the shogunate? It was military might.
In Shōgun, Tokugawa uses Blackthorne’s presence as a Protestant to sow disagreement between the Five Elders—some of whom profited from the nation’s Christian colonisers, who hailed from from Portugal and Spain. Sure, the Five Elders demanding the persecution of one heretic among Tokugawa’s castle may be a tad far-fetched. But Clavell’s addition of Blackthorne is more so the story's powder keg. Clavell also added a relationship between Blackthorne and Toda Mariko (Anna Sawai), whose real-life counterpart never even met Adams.
That isn't to say that Tokugawa and Adams didn't share a friendship in real life. According to Smithsonian Magazine, the two wrote many letters to one another, and the powerful daimyo was fascinated by Adams's knowledge of the globe. Tokugawa also greeted the Englishman during his trips to Japan, even after he had rose to the shogunate. Eventually, Adams was gifted the honorary title of samurai. Meanwhile, Tokugawa remained in power until his death in 1616. He constructed the great Edo Castle—the largest castle in all of Japan—and the Tokugawa shogunate ruled the country for the next 250 years.