Gladiator

Having not seen Gladiator until now was the convergence of a few different forces in life. 1) I don't care for Russell Crowe. 2) At this point in my life, my social life was far important than movies. 3) I'm not a big fan of the sword-and-sandals epic. But it won Best Picture, so, having taken on the quest to see all the Best Picture winners, I was bound to see it. And after avoiding it for 24 years, I can say ... eh, it was fine. This isn't gonna be some "WeLl AcKsHuAlLy" contrarian jerk review where I point out all the reasons the movie shouldn't have won (it was a lean year anyway, go look at the other nominees, compare it to something like 1994, and tell me it was a great year for movies). Some of the things that didn't connect with me -- the only-in-action-movies kind of action, the overly wrought performances -- could be described as features of the genre, not bugs, and I can't fight that. Gladiator isn't some profound movie with layers of complexity, and that's by design, and not all movies, not all Best Picture winners, need to be that. Hell, I'll be the first one to say Oscar needs to pull its head out of its ass and acknowledge more than drama exists. I was entertained. All the principal actors were good (even Crowe). The direction was, for the most part, fine. I know others swear this movie is an amazing epic, and if it hits you that way, I'm happy for you. This just isn't the kind of movie I'll come back to. It came in with a built-in ceiling, and to its credit, it bumped up against the absolute limit of it. I'm willing to give it that credit at least, and acknowledge that others will love it more than me, and that's fine. It's fine. We're all fine.