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Are you not entertained? But is that really why you are here?

The genius of the 2000 movie “Gladiator” wasn’t just the music, the acting of Russell Crowe, or the ancient Roman setting. The movie had all of these things in spades, and to call it entertaining would be a gross understatement.

The beating heart of “Gladiator”—the thing that made it a masterpiece—was its central coherent theme: the brave and noble fight against adversity to restore justice. It wasn’t just fun to see Maximus Decimus Meridius (Russell Crowe) fight his way through multiple rounds of gladiatorial combat to ultimately face the emperor one-on-one, it was inspiring, even edifying.

The movie roused young men to become heroic in their own lives, even when the world seems dead-set against them.

I would know—I am one of those (now less young) men.

Sadly, the sequel “Gladiator 2” may have broken records at the box office, but it won’t have the same inspiring effect. Here’s why.

(Warning: this review contains spoilers for both “Gladiator” and “Gladiator 2” in the analysis below.)

The Dream That Was Rome

Neither “Gladiator” nor “Gladiator 2” is particularly historically accurate—and that’s not the point. The first film, however, captured a sense of classical Roman nobility that is largely absent from the second.

For those who may be less familiar with the story, “Gladiator” sets up a tragedy: the kindly old emperor, Marcus Aurelius, aims to restore Rome to a Republic once again, and he chooses the general Maximus to succeed him, charging the general with handing over power back to the Senate. The emperor’s evil son, Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix), discovers the plan, kills his father, has Maximus’ family slaughtered, and orders Maximus’ execution.

The general survives, only to end up enslaved and put in the arena. From there, he fights for survival, then for revenge, then to carry out Marcus Aurelius’ original vision. He inspires the gladiators around him, turning them into his friends and allies, and he plans with members of the Senate to bring in his army and depose Commodus. This plan fails and Commodus plans to execute Maximus in the arena by fighting him to the death and wounding Maximus beforehand. Maximus fights through the pain, and manages to slay Commodus before dying himself, giving the order to restore the Senate with his last breath.

The story may be a bit convoluted, but the film moves beat by beat, letting characters grow and establishing Maximus as the consummate Roman hero. He earns the respect of the army and of his fellow gladiators. He displays wisdom and strength, choosing his words carefully and speaking simply but in a manner that inspires courage and loyalty.

The movie’s central theme resonates with audiences afterward. Phrases like “strength and honor” and “what we do in life echoes in eternity” have a simple elegance that modern audiences associate with ancient Roman virtue before the decadence of the empire.

Even side speeches that create the setting memorably echo the film’s central theme.

The gladiator trainer Proximo (Oliver Reed) says, “Ultimately, we are all dead men. Sadly, we cannot choose how. But we can decide how we meet that end, in order that we are remembered as men.”

Finally, the film’s tragic ending—with Maximus dying while doing his best to restore Marcus Aurelius’ dream—fits the theme of nobility and bravery in the face of adversity, providing the perfect coda for a superbly well-crafted story.

Strength and Honor—Well, Maybe Just Strength

In one of the most notable moments of “Gladiator,” Maximus taunts the audience with the question, “Are you not entertained? Is this not why you are here?”

The moment perfectly encapsulates the injustice and absurdity of slaughtering people for entertainment—and the crowd cheers, even while Maximus is taunting them.

The point is, “Gladiator” is not just about entertainment—the entertainment serves a noble purpose, inspiring the movie’s audience to persist in the face of adversity just like Maximus does.

The second movie has no such encapsulating moment. In fact, it has no overriding theme like the first movie. Instead, it rides on “Gladiator’s” coattails, echoing the original movie but telling a very different kind of story.

While “Gladiator” is a tragedy with classical overtones, “Gladiator 2” is an Arthurian myth set in the “Gladiator” universe.

The sequel’s hero, Lucius (Paul Mescal) appears in the original film as the son of Marcus Aurelius’ daughter Lucilla (Connie Nielsen). While Lucius (played by Spencer Treat Clarke in the original) looks up to Maximus, he is not Maximus’ son, and the movie shows that Maximus never had a relationship with Lucilla despite her interest in him. “Gladiator 2” chucks these inconvenient facts in the Hollywood trash can and merely declares that Lucius is Maximus’ biological son.

Why do this? Because “Gladiator 2” is trying to borrow some of Maximus’ gravitas from the original movie, and the cheapest way to do that is to just declare that Lucius was Maximus’ son. Never mind that “Gladiator” presents Maximus as a loyal husband to his wife and father to his true son, both of whom die at the beginning of the original film. No, “Gladiator 2” wants a King Arthur figure in an ancient Roman setting, and it will bend the arc of the previous film to get it.

Further, the sequel tries very hard to echo the plot of the original movie, and it just doesn’t work in the same way.

The audience first sees Lucius leading men in battle—just as Maximus did at the beginning of “Gladiator”—but Lucius is fighting against Rome, not for it. Like Maximus, Lucius loses his wife—this time in battle—and like Maximus, Lucius vows revenge on the man responsible for his wife’s death, General Acacius (Pedro Pascal). Like Maximus, Lucius becomes a slave and gladiator, able to rile the crowd and have a political impact in the Coliseum.

However, Lucius is not Maximus. He has the strength and prowess in battle, but he doesn’t build rapport with his fellow gladiators. While the other gladiators cheer him for his victories, he doesn’t listen to their stories or help them in the way Maximus did. Yet, when it comes time for the gladiators to rebel against their masters, Lucius is more effective than Maximus had been.

Worse, the movie gives Lucius what the director evidently thought was an inspiring speech.

I couldn’t help but snicker as Lucius declared, “Where death is, we are not. Where we are, death is not!” in an attempt to rouse men and women who will be dead mere moments later. This speech has none of Maximus’ gravitas, and the movie essentially admits as much by returning to Maximus’ iconic lines—”strength and honor” and “what we do in life echoes in eternity.”

In the place of these noble declarations come a slew of pedestrian platitudes that take away the epic feel of the original film.

“Gladiator 2’s” Cinematic Gluttony

Perhaps the sequel’s greatest sin is the rushed pacing, however. The movie bites off more than it can chew, and it attempts to keep the audience from noticing by peppering the script with little nods to the original movie.

It’s not just Lucius who has a complex and convoluted story arc—the ultimate villain does, too.

Macrinus (Denzel Washington), the slave owner who trains and profits from Lucius, weasels his way into ultimate power in Rome, proving the decadent corruption of the empire by enslaving a senator through gambling debts. Macrinus ultimately assassinates the brothers who jointly rule, Emperors Geta (Joseph Quinn) and Caracalla (Fred Hechinger), rising to become a pseudo-emperor himself.

Lucius restores order, in true Arthurian fashion, by defeating Macrinus in single combat and becoming king of Rome.

Oh wait, that’s right, Rome doesn’t have kings, and it proudly doesn’t have kings. Ever since Romans overthrew Tarquin the Proud, Rome vowed never to have a king again, and even though the emperors were something like kings, they consciously adopted titles like “Princeps” and “Caesar” in order to avoid any trappings of monarchy.

Perhaps someone ought to remind the director of basic Roman history. The film repeatedly refers to Lucilla as a “queen” and suggests that Lucius’ right to rule comes from his status as Maximus’ son.

The only ones who seem intent on restoring the Senate and fulfilling Marcus Aurelius’ dream die in the film’s rushed conclusion. The senator Gracchus (Derek Jacobi), who appears as a major Republican leader scheming to restore the Republic, dies in the arena. He’s finished off as if an afterthought—just like the dream that was Rome.

The movie constantly rushes to resolve the petty conflicts it creates, giving the audience whiplash. Macrinus kills both Gaeta and Caracalla in rather quick succession.

The movie does give Lucius a moment to mourn his mother, Lucilla, but even this largely falls flat. Lucius gets mad at Lucilla for sending him away as a boy, and this initial conflict complicates the storyline to the point that the audience does not properly feel loss when Lucilla dies. Her death feels like yet another thing that happened, not the climax of Macrinus’ evil.

“Gladiator 2” is trying to be too much, and it fails due to this lack of discipline.

Audiences may indeed be entertained, but that doesn’t make this poor pitiful excuse for a sequel any more deserving. Just as the sequel tried to slap Maximus’ last name on an inferior man, so the now-disgraced director Ridley Scott has slapped a far superior brand on a less deserving product.

For his sake, let’s hope what he does in life doesn’t echo in eternity.