This is the trailer for Gladiator Two. And this is a follow-up trailer after the first one got dislike-bombed -- no doubt because they felt the need to use rap music.
[...] Taking the place of Commodus, we have the Paul-brother-look-alikes: Caracalla and Geta, the co-emperors of Rome in 211 AD.
Now, because this video is about their lives and times (encompassing the largest citizen-grant in history), there may be spoilers up ahead. But only “maybe,” since we all know Ridley Scott’s track
record as far as history goes. [...]
History tells us that, only the following year, Caracalla seizes power for himself and gives 30 million people Roman citizenship, basically everyone who didn’t already have it.
[...] This was the culmination of a process going all the way back to Romulus and Remus, and it neatly marks a dividing line between the first
and the second millennium of Roman history. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. The causes and effects of Caracalla’s citizen-grant are still debated to this day,
so much so that cause and effect become almost indistinguishable. At the heart of the riddle lies a deceptively simple question: of all the enlightened emperors
that Rome had to offer, why is it Caracalla who takes such a seemingly progressive step?
After all, this is the same emperor who’s about to be the villain of a blockbuster Hollywood epic. The same one who Edward Gibbon calls “the common enemy of mankind.” And also
the one who -- as you might’ve guessed -- murders his brother in a replay of Rome’s founding legend.
To get to the bottom of it all, we’re gonna need the full story. Who was Caracalla, really, and what kind of situation was he inheriting? What was the true state of the empire around this
time, and how exactly was it affected when almost every single inhabitant suddenly became a citizen?
Stick around and you’ll not only get the answers to those questions, but also the story of a tyrant who gives Commodus, Nero, and Caligula a run for their money…
Chapter I: The Secret of Empire “The ascent to greatness, however steep and dangerous, may entertain an active spirit with the consciousness and exercise of its own powers: but the possession of a throne could never yet afford a lasting satisfaction to an ambitious mind.” — Edward Gibbon, The History of
the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Vol. 1, Chapter VI (1776 AD) As the curtain fell on the second century, the Pax Romana, or "Roman Peace," took its final bow. The
"Five Good Emperors" (as Machiavelli later dubbed them) had all left the stage, and their exit was
encored by the disappointment of a generation. That disappointment bore the name
Commodus, and though he was the son of the finest philosopher-emperor Rome ever produced,
he preferred to be typecast as the reincarnation of Hercules. His assassination by a wrestling partner in 193 AD triggered the Year of Five Emperors,
when no fewer than five imperial contenders rushed to claim the vacant throne.
A similar drama had unfolded way back in 69 AD, when Nero’s suicide sparked the Year of Four Emperors. It was then, as the great historian
Tacitus put it, that “the secret of empire was revealed: rulers could be made in the provinces.”
[...] That’s what enabled a country bumpkin like
Caracalla’s father to claim the throne after he emerges victorious from the Year of Five Emperors.
His name was Septimius Severus, and he is described by the scholar William E. Dunstan as a “bold and experienced general… who acted with decision in
the mold of Trajan and brooked no opposition.” Like Trajan (and Hadrian too, for that matter),
Septimius hailed from the empire’s periphery, from a Phoenician tradeport seventy-five miles east of modern-day Tripoli in Libya. Though descended from a wealthy equestrian family,
Septimius could not shake off his Punic accent, which is why it’s been suggested that he pronounced his name “Sheptimiush Sheverush,” not unlike Sean Connery.
[...] In a pretty desperate bid for legitimacy,
Septimius had himself posthumously adopted by Marcus Aurelius, leading a sarcastic senator
to congratulate him on ‘finding a father.’ Today, Septimius is considered the founder
of a new dynasty, the Severans, and his eighteen-year reign leaves us with a legacy just as multifaceted as his character. We’ll get to his legacy by the end of
this chapter. For now, we can discuss his reputation, a different thing entirely. Not only was Septimius a capable general and administrator, he was,
if not quite an intellectual, a very curious guy. He met with Galen -- the foremost medical authority in the empire -- and was applauded for his vast stock of medicines.
He toured much of Egypt, hauling back cartloads of books and visited the pyramid complex at Giza.
According to writer George C. Brauer, it was even more impressive back then “because [the pyramids’] stone facing was still intact.” Throughout his reign, Septimius was a great
patron of doctors, jurists, poets, philosophers, and astrologers. Apparently, it was because of a
favorable horoscope that he chose a woman named Julia Domna as his second wife.