We’ve officially entered the era where Denzel Washington’s sheer presence is enough to make a movie about his character—even if that character’s name isn’t in the title. He’s been Roman J. Israel, Esq. He’s always The Equalizer. He found the dagger in The Tragedy of Macbeth. Washington doesn’t just appear on screen; he owns it, commanding attention with a gravity that’s unmatched. And now, in Ridley Scott’s Gladiator II, he’s up to something even more fascinating: he’s not the headline act, but he undeniably takes the spotlight anyway.
Gladiator II is, on paper, not a “Denzel movie.” It’s Paul Mescal’s chance to step into Russell Crowe’s tragic sandals, as Lucius, the son of Lucilla, forced into the gladiatorial life of his late stepfather. But Scott’s made a smart call here—bringing back his American Gangster star to inject some unpredictability into a familiar Roman setup. Washington’s character, Macrinus, is a disruptor, and the film is all the better for it.
Scott pulls us decades forward from where the first film left us: Maximus dead on the colosseum sand, Lucilla (Connie Nielsen) grieving, and young Lucius (originally Spencer Treat Clark) staring into an uncertain future. Now grown, Lucius (Mescal) is the focal point—a captive of the Roman army who must, like his father before him, fight to survive as a gladiator. Enter the city of Rome, where Lucius finds his mother tangled with the ruthless general Arcacius (Pedro Pascal), and Washington’s Macrinus lurking in the shadows as an enigmatic arms dealer with a sudden interest in Lucius’ survival. What starts as a simple mentor-mentee dynamic quickly twists into something more sinister, as Macrinus’ ambitions unravel, revealing a grander scheme to wrest power in Rome for himself.
Washington’s Macrinus is a masterclass in controlled chaos. His motives are far from hidden—he’s an ex-slave who’s climbed the ranks of a corrupt system, and he intends to play that system like a game of dice. But what makes Macrinus so magnetic is how Washington makes every line, every gesture, so deliberately offbeat. He smiles with a glint that can turn curses into blessings or veiled threats, depending on the viewer. He takes the film’s more archaic dialogue and delivers it with a breezy, modern twist—as if Shakespeare had grown up watching New Jack City. It’s a tactic Washington honed in Macbeth, but here it gets funneled into an entirely original, and delightfully villainous, character. He’s not burdened by Shakespearean expectations. Macrinus is a fresh canvas, and Washington paints him with bold, mischievous strokes.
The result? A Roman thriller where Denzel’s supporting role feels anything but secondary. Instead of playing into the film’s otherwise serious tone—the familial drama, the heavy sighs of duty—Washington veers toward dark comedy. His Macrinus is flirtatious, audacious, and openly bisexual—a man with eyes on every attractive gladiator in his orbit. There’s an openness in how he’s portrayed that’s rare for a period piece. Washington even revealed a kiss was filmed but didn’t make the final cut; still, his performance is saturated with such playful charisma, it’s not hard to imagine what that moment looked like. It’s part of what makes his portrayal so exciting and—let’s be honest—so disappointing that some of that edge didn’t make the theatrical version.
Washington hasn’t been in a role like this in a while. His last supporting Oscar nomination dates all the way back to 1990, for his electric turn in Glory—a role that earned him his first of two Academy Awards. Since then, he’s been the leading face of prestige films, rarely stepping back from the top billing. But in Gladiator II, Washington gets to have fun with his star power. The award buzz circling his performance is a testament to just how rare this type of role has become for him—he’s playing with expectations, riffing on his iconic gravitas by making Macrinus feel both larger-than-life and a little scrappy.
As Denzel hints at winding down his career, Gladiator II feels like a fitting late entry—both a reminder of the explosive charisma that made him a household name and an embrace of the legacy he’s built. Macrinus may not be the good guy. He may, in fact, be the villain. But as always with Denzel Washington, you can’t help but root for him, even if he’s scheming from the shadows. After all, it’s impossible to look away—he’s taught us that well.
