Gladiator (2000)

 

Gladiator begins with an epic, brutal battle sequence that lasts about twelve minutes, and it’s a brilliant strategy to start with something so physical and action-packed. Director Ridley Scott has always been good at directing action movies, and while this might have easily been a throwback to those earlier, rather corny gladiator movies from the 1950s and 1960s, Scott’s film is filled with great sequences, many of them taking place in various arenas and featuring intense encounters between some of the biggest gladiators imaginable.

The film follows the story of the Roman General Maximus Decimus Meridius (played with more stoicism than probably necessary by Russell Crowe), who leads the Roman army to victory over the forces in Germania in the opening sequence. So beloved and revered and successful is Maximus that the Emperor, Marcus Aurelius (Richard Harris, who departs the move far too quickly), favors him over the presumptive heir to the throne, his son Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix, channeling evil personified). Commodus is not a good person and not a promising leader, and Phoenix lets us see the jealousy and hatred that have rotted him to the core of his being.

Marcus Aurelius dislikes his son so much that he plans to make Rome into a republic again rather than have Commodus succeed him, and he wants Maximus to be the leader under the new republic. Do you even have to guess how Commodus responds to this? In short order, he kills his own father, has Maximus’ wife and son murdered, and tries to have Maximus himself killed. Commodus assumes the title of Caesar and gives the people what he thinks they want or need: a seemingly endless supply of distractions like gladiator battles and bread. It keeps them pacified, but he seems to think that it will make them love him. Why are there so many movies about men who turn into awful humans because they think they didn’t get the love they deserved from their fathers? It must be because there are too many men in real life who turned out that way.

After being captured by slave traders while trying to recover from his wounds, Crowe’s Maximus starts developing a real talent for killing others in the battle arenas as a gladiator, and the series of scenes featuring those battles are among the best in the film. They’re particularly well shot. He acquires the nickname of “the Spaniard,” for reasons that were never fully clear to me. However, he becomes quite proficient at using his anger and hatred and pain to kill gladiators who would be expected to overpower him. By the time he delivers the famous “Are you not entertained?” line in the film, we have to agree that, yes, we are being very entertained, especially if we like watching grown men beat each up and blood flowing all over the ground of the arena.

Just as an aside, the fight scenes are so spectacular that The Boyfriend kept saying to me while we were watching the film again in preparation for Gladiator II that these battles were the Romans’ form of entertainment since they didn’t have movies or television. He’s not wrong, and I guess it’s pretty clear to anyone who watches the film that these “entertainments” were clearly used as a means to keep the people in check while their government engages in horrible acts. Thankfully, no one does any such actions these days. Right? Right?

Maximus’ goal, of course, is to get his revenge against Commodus, not necessarily to be a free man again, so as he keeps learning new and bloodier ways to kill someone, we acknowledge that he’s really in training to kill Commodus. He even tells the emperor this to his face after Commodus meets him in the middle of a large arena and asks Maximus to remove his mask. This, naturally, does not sit well with Commodus, so he starts scheming to have the gladiator killed. One of the most astonishing sequences has Maximus facing off against a gigantic guy from Gaul while chained tigers try to attack them if they ventures too closely to the large, hungry beasts. I don’t know how historically accurate such an approach might be, but it certainly does keep your attention.

The role of Maximus is a physically demanding role, and Crowe seems fully committed to the hard work of being an efficient killing machine in the arena. By the time he faces Commodus in the ring face-to-face, he’s clearly destined to kill the emperor, but you know that someone like the emperor is never going to play fair. He hasn’t been fair at any point during the film, so why should he start now? The ending of the film is a bit too, um, comfortable for my tastes, but after seeing flashbacks of his wife and son throughout the film, it’s no surprise that Maximus would want to “reunite” with them. There is often some sort of spiritual dimension to Scott’s film, and sometimes it’s more plausible or acceptable than at other times.

Gladiator features a strong supporting cast. I’ve already mentioned Harris, who has only a few moments on screen at the beginning. Djimon Hounsou plays a fellow gladiator, and the great Oliver Reed, in his final film role, plays Proximo, the “owner” and trainer of a band of gladiators. Derek Jacobi is Gracchus, a key member of the senate who faces reprisals from Commodus after the emperor learns that Gracchus and his own sister and others have been plotting against him – as you would if you were being ruled by a tyrant. The sister, Lucilla, is played by the talented Connie Nielsen. Her scenes with Crowe give more than a few hints that the two were former lovers, and they seem to have had a child together as well. How else can you have a sequel? The child in question is played by Spencer Treat Clark, whose face is very expressive.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention the production design for the film. It’s very evocative of the era that it depicts, and the recreation of the Colosseum is spectacular. The locations of the emperor’s residence and of the senate meetings and even Gracchus’s house, which is seen only for a few seconds, get a great deal of attention. The production design was nominated for an Oscar, and the costume design deservedly won in its category. The various costumes demonstrate the kind of stratification of Roman society, and the smallest details on someone’s robes, for example, are visible and perfect. Scott’s films that cover historical periods are always very attuned to displaying what would have been common at the time. It’s just another element in a film that strives to be entertaining, and isn’t that what Maximus wanted for us, after all?

Oscar Wins: Best Picture, Best Actor (Russell Crowe), Best Sound, Best Costume Design, and Best Visual Effects

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Director (Ridley Scott), Best Supporting Actor (Joaquin Phoenix), Best Screenplay Written Directly for the Screen/Original Screenplay, Best Original Score, Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography, and Best Film Editing

Sound of Metal (2020)

 

I don’t normally start a discussion of a film with an examination of the sound design, but Sound of Metal does such an amazing job that, even though it’s odd to point it out, you can’t really experience this film without acknowledging it. The central character learns that he’s suffering from severe hearing loss, and we as viewers and listeners get to experience what he’s going through. The film features subtitles throughout – although it does withhold telling us what’s going on at a couple of key moments – and the difficulties that we have in hearing replicates for us what Ruben (played with great physicality by Riz Ahmed) experiences. When he cannot hear anything but distorted voices, that’s what we hear. When the sounds for him almost disappear, they do the same for us. It’s a spectacular aspect of the film, and it truly helps to make the impact even greater for us as an audience.

We may not realize it when the film starts, but we’re already in Ruben’s auditory world. We see him on stage with his girlfriend. It’s a loud blast of music, which contrasts to the many moments of absolute silence we get later in the film. They’re a heavy metal act – or punk metal or something like that – and much of her singing is rather inaudible. We might think at first that it’s the quality of the singing or the music more generally, but we’re already getting a sense of how much difficulty Ruben is having. When he cannot hear at all on a subsequent night, he realizes (as do we) that he is suffering from hearing loss. A doctor’s appointment arranged by a pharmacist reveals that he only has 24-28 percent of his hearing capacity. The film really only takes about ten minutes or so at the beginning to convey how much Ruben’s life is going to change.

Ruben is also a former addict, and he wants a solution quickly so that he can resume his life on the road. He would need $40,000-$80,000 for cochlear implants, money that they don’t have as struggling musicians. Lou (Olivia Cooke) is worried about him, though, and they contact Ruben’s sponsor, who finds him a spot in a deaf community in a rural area. She has to leave him there because the community is only for those who are deaf or hard of hearing; those who are not hearing impaired would be a distraction, according to the rules of the community leader, Joe (played with great stoicism by Paul Raci). It’s tough for her to leave him, and it’s tough for him to let her go. Their separation is painful to watch.

Ruben doesn’t immediately fit in, of course, and we also get to be a part of feeling his alienation. The others in the community mostly use American Sign Language, but he doesn’t know how to sign yet. He senses they’re talking about him sometimes, but he cannot respond. Only those who can lipread can understand what he’s saying, and he feels rather isolated at first. However, Joe is committed to getting Ruben to become more integrated into the community. Ruben goes to classes for ASL with children and slowly begins to bond with them. He even brings in music and drumming to their classroom so that they can get a sense of what his life was like. The moments with the kids are really some of the more delightful ones in the film.

His comfort in the rural community – which is beautifully photographed, by the way – is short-lived, though. He becomes impatient when he sees online that Lou has gone to France to live with her father and is now singing a very different style of music. His career as a rock drummer might be coming to an end, and he wants to return to that life if he can. He sells almost everything he owns: the music equipment, their RV they used to tour, whatever he can. Of course, he also is impatient for the implants to work immediately after surgery, but what he hears first is really distorted and painful to listen to. He’s warned by the audiologist to give it time, but Ruben leaves almost immediately for France to meet with Lou. He seems to think that if they just get back to their music, he’ll regain some sense of what he considers “normalcy.” The film has repeatedly questioned what “normal” is, but Ruben isn’t quite to the point of accepting his new life as normal just yet.

The pacing of the film is rather interesting. Very intense moments are followed at times by very slow passages. We even see how Ruben’s reactions can mirror the film’s pacing or vice versa. He’s often very quiet or still, but then he will have an explosion of emotions. He holds in his feelings at times when you know he’s not as happy or accepting as he claims to be. It’s a thrilling performance in many ways, and you can sense how very committed Ahmed was to learning how to play the drums and how to use ASL to communicate. The film editing was honored with an Oscar, as was the sound design, so you do have a sense that the voters really appreciated what the filmmakers were doing.

Even when he’s in France, we get to experience what Ruben is hearing. The distortion returns at times, and he has to adjust the implants to accommodate the volume at other times. When Lou and her father duet in French at a party, we don’t get subtitles telling us what they’re singing. If you know French, it’s probably a charming song. However, Ruben apparently doesn’t understand French, so we aren’t allowed to experience a moment differently than he does if we also don’t understand French. It can be distancing or alienating at times, certainly, but once you’ve caught on as to what’s happening with the sound, you can’t really help but appreciate the commitment of the filmmakers to let us into the world of someone experiencing the loss of their sense of hearing.

Sound of Metal also teaches us a bit about the technology available to the deaf or hearing impaired. We witness the use of sign language and lipreading and speech-to-text programs, all of which help us to see what someone just learning how to live with hearing loss might experience. The deaf community of the film is a rather insular one, but the movie takes some time to introduce us to the controversy surrounding cochlear implants. Some fear there’s nothing to be fixed in someone who cannot hear, so they oppose the use of implants. That’s why Ruben has to leave after he gets them. He no longer fits into the community like he did before when he was learning to accept himself as someone without full hearing.

I’ve mentioned the cinematography already, but it’s exceptional and was overlooked by the Academy. The rural landscape would likely be what many would notice, but watch the camerawork as Ruben and Lou are traveling in the RV from gig to gig, or look at how beautiful Paris looks as he walks to her father’s place. The wind in the trees, the wheat moving gracefully, the kinds of moments that those of us with full hearing take for granted are presented here as the marvels that they are. You may be able to hear that wind blowing, but the subtitles on the screen remind you that not everyone experiences it the same way. Our immersion into Ruben’s experience is likely not to be replicated easily after the stellar achievements of this film.

Oscar Win: Best Sound and Best Achievement in Film Editing

Other Oscar Nominations: Best Motion Picture of the Year, Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role (Riz Ahmed), Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role (Paul Raci), and Best Original Screenplay