If grey is your favorite color, then Gladiator should knock your socks off. Director Ridley Scott fairly bleeds most scenes of all but the most metallic colors, perhaps indicative of the purgatorial outlook of the former Roman general Maximus (Russell Crowe) who, after losing everyone he loves by the treachery of his superiors, stands poised between craving vengeance in this life and yearning to join his family in the next.

Gladiator offers up a possible explanation for the murder in 192 A.D. of the Emperor Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix), painting the young Caesar as morally bereft and unwise enough to cross Maximus, whom Commodus' dying father, Marcus Aurelius (Richard Harris), trusted far more and hoped might succeed him. Commodus' jealousy sparks betrayals and bloodbaths upon his ascension to the throne, and threatens to plunge Rome headlong into decadence and decline, were one of his victims not the Empire's greatest general with an itch for revenge.

With its visual delights and the intensity of Crowe's performance, Gladiator might have qualified as a solidly entertaining Roman epic. But if history played out with as many narrative potholes as erodes this film, then life is strange and incomprehensible indeed. Plausibility is repeatedly sacrificed at the altar of dramatic effect, such as when we're supposed to believe Maximus rides horseback all the way from Germany to Spain and just misses his family's gruesome execution by minutes (allowing Crowe an opportunity to turn on the water-and-snotworks). Then a slave caravan just happens to be passing by his pillaged house soon afterwards, and snatches the defeated Maximus en route to a gladiator academy in the Middle East. It's all too unlikely, and feels like a throwback to the sometimes simpler narrative strategies of earlier films - can anyone say Spartacus? - whose parallels with this film are only beginning.

Equally disappointing is Scott's carelessness in trying to flesh out the character of Maximus. We are introduced in the film's opening battle to what is apparently his faithful & fearsome German Shepherd, some sort of bond between the two intimated by repeatedly significant glances between them, but the hound is never seen again. We also repeatedly witness Maximus ritualistically scooping up and smelling some of the earth upon which he will be fighting yet another opponent, but no explanation for such a tic is ever forthcoming. Scott far too often abandons opportunities to gain some insight into this seemingly unbeatable warrior; it's quite possible the script pursued these dimensions, only to be edited out after shooting to keep the film (just) below three hours.

It is this oversimplification of events that lends an air of invincibility to Crowe as he makes his way to the Coliseum in Rome, and the triumphant ending feels all too inevitable, as if telegraphed from the very beginning. Stripped of most anything that might render Maximus human except for his pain and loss, we get the impression that he could take out the most fearsome gladiators on his worst day, which is exactly what he does one by one, robbing the final showdown with Commodus of any trace of suspense. The only question is who else might be left standing after the Emperor's paranoia expands its murderous reach.

The blurry battle scenes are largely unintelligible due to too-rapid cutting and a hyperactive camera, and Scott paradoxically presents less relevant scenes in slow-motion, such as Commodus merely stepping out of his carriage… …… very … ……….slowly. (This negligence renders completely unclear how Maximus escaped execution in the first place.) Things do get exhilarating when the tigers are loosed in the arena, or any time Oliver Reed (as Maximus' gladiator mentor) or Richard Harris enters the frame, and the various dialogues of political intrigue provide all the cast with amply dramatic showcases. But the Braveheart comparisons of one skilled fighter against those who rule the land come too easily and often, so the excellent performances and the CGI skyline of Rome are pretty much all we can enjoy afresh. Gladiator will suffice as historical pageant, but if you're seeking to pass three hours in a way worthy of the history books, you might do better to stick with something more like a book.