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Denzel Washington Should Always Have a Little Shawl
Only one element of Gladiator II is serving the pomposity and archness the movie needs: Denzel Washington and his many, many lavish fits.
He bends to the whims of the city and its rulers, supplying weapons to Emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger) for their ever-expanding wars and buying prisoners of those battles to join his ranks of enslaved gladiators, including lost Prince of Rome Lucius (Mescal). I speak them all,” and an almost flirtatious purr as he sizes Lucius up for purchase, noting his “strong jaw, good arms.” Mescal never quite musters the fury the film tries to convince us he’s capable of, but Washington delivers the line “rage pours out of you like milk from a whore’s tit” like a lesson in making nonsense sound grand. Macrinus evokes some of Washington’s past performances (the outsize bombast of Training Day, the simmering fury of Man on Fire, the cool scheming of American Gangster) and always seems like he’s making choices, too — weighing when to speak, when to attack, when to retreat, and when to indulge.
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