Using Backstory To Define Your Character
Why the hero of Gladiator is more compelling the hero of Gladiator 2
“What we do in life echoes in eternity.”
This is the quote Ridley Scott chose to re-use in the sequel to Gladiator. In one important scene, the words are even chiseled into the wall above a memorial to the hero from the original film.
It’s a line that encapsulates what makes the original film so great. It tells us what Maximus values—honor. Maximus doesn’t just fight well; he fights for what matters, for his home, his friends, and for the dream of a truly great Rome ruled by the senate for the good of the people.
The same isn’t true for the hero of the sequel. Lucius fights only to survive, first against an invasion and later in the arena, and to gain revenge (for the death of his wife? the invasion of his home?). At the end of the film, the stakes are higher, but Lucius’ vision for Rome is unclear. Like many other moviegoers, I never felt any connection to him. And I think that stems from the fact that we never understand what he values.
It’s tempting to think that the two most important questions a writer can ask herself are these:
What is my main character’s goal?
What obstacles stand in his way?
But these questions will only help the writer formulate a plot. And no matter how great the hero’s goal, or how difficult the obstacles in the hero’s way, readers won’t fully engage with a plot unless the hero himself is worth reading about.
To create a character readers will root for, it helps to ask these two questions:
What does my main character long for, even before the story starts?
What burdens my main character, even before the story starts?
And it works best if the hero’s longing and burden are two sides of the same coin. Today we’ll look at how Maximus from the original Gladiator is shaped by the answers to these two questions. Then, we’ll workshop the character of Lucius from Gladiator II by giving him a longing and a burden that make him a more complex and sympathetic character.
The Dream of Paradise
In both Gladiator movies, the heroes have clear goals: survive captivity, and get revenge for murdered loved ones. But in the original Gladiator, it’s who Maximus is before the story starts that makes him a sympathetic character.
The opening of Gladiator sees Maximus as a general leading his soldiers to victory over Germanic tribes who threaten Rome’s border. After his successful campaign, the emperor calls Maximus into his tent, where the general expects to finally receive the award he’s been promised: his admittance to “paradise,” as he tells Marcus Aurelius.
What does Maximus consider paradise? A peaceful hillside farm where his wife and son wait for his return.
As a general, his goal is to beat back the tribes at the border; later, as a gladiator, his goal is to survive the arena. But through it all, he longs to be with his family. This longing defines him better than the glory of victory in battle, or the honor of the promised title of regent, or dominance in the arena as a gladiator. He lives for something much deeper than many of the characters around him, who care mostly for superficial things—power, fame, money.
Maximus’ longing is given a concrete representation: the figurines of his wife and son, which he sets up as an altar and prays before. Few know about Maximus’ inner life, but we the audience see it clearly. We understand that whenever he fights, whether as a soldier or a gladiator, he fights for the those he loves.
We root for Maximus because we respect his longing for his simple paradise.
In contrast, it’s never clear whether Lucius fights for more than survival and revenge. He sometimes dreams of the underworld, and the wife who was slain in battle. But we don’t know if he felt connected to his home in Numidia, if he believes he’ll return to his wife after death, or if he feels he has a greater purpose in life other than to fight.
The Burden of Glory
A heavy burden weighs on Maximus, even before the story starts. And this burden keeps him from what he longs for.
As the emperor’s best general, he’s expected to fight for the glory of Rome. His victory against Germania should lift that burden, but instead it increases the terrible weight of the emperor’s expectations. Instead of allowing Maximus to retire, Marcus Aurelius now wants to name Maximus as regent, to hold power until the Senate can return Rome to a republic.
This is a noble role for Maximus, a high honor for himself and a beautiful dream for Rome. But it’s also the very thing that will ensure he will never return home.
The burden also defines his time as a gladiator. What starts as a struggle for survival and revenge turns into something more important. Maximus has a chance to save Rome from the clutches of power-hungry Commodus. He can restore the dream of Rome as a republic.
But to pit himself against Commodus is to ensure that he will never return to the family he longs for.
Does Lucius feel a similar burden in Gladiator II? As a boy, he was exiled to Numidia, where he seems to have made a life for himself. Was this life a burden to him—did he hate being far from home and from his mother? Or did he love his simple life and feel that his obligation to challenge the corruption of Rome was a burden that threatened his peaceful existence? Was it difficult to keep his Roman identity secret while he lived in Numidia? During the plot of the film, we know Lucius has a hard existence as a gladiator, but we don’t know how this hardship ties into the life he lived before he became a gladiator, and therefore, it’s difficult to feel much sympathy for him.
Longing As A Defining Characteristic
Maximus’ longing for his family defines his character throughout the story and serves to prove how his values contrast with those of the movie’s villain, Commodus. In one scene, while Maximus waits to fight in the arena, Commodus’ nephew (young Lucius) asks about the horses on his breastplate. Maximus explains that these represent his own horses back home, Argento and Scatto; he values his family and home so much that their emblems represent him in the arena. The villainous Commodus holds his own family in no such regard—he cares only for power and will resort to tormenting his sister and nephew to maintain his control of them.
Maximus’ darkest moment is when he learns that his family have been slaughtered. I always have to look away from the screen during this scene because it’s so tragic, and the images are quite disturbing. Despite the fact that Maximus is a gladiator, no injury or confinement could be worse than this moment, not even for the proudest fighter.
On the other hand, the movie’s most stirring moment is when Maximus dreams of his farm as he lies dying in the arena. He sees his wife and son watching for him, and he floats above golden grains. Finally, Maximus will have what he longs for as he enters the afterlife.
Burdens As Elevated Obstacles
The obstacles in both Gladiator movies are really exciting. There’s nothing cooler than watching gladiators fight a live tiger, or dodge a rhinoceros, or maneuver a ship in a mock battle (although the sharks were… a bit much).
But obstacles are meaningless when they represent only a temporary, external problem. They become a show of skill only. In the original Gladiator, Maximus’ skill at fighting past formidable opponents is admirable. But these challenges would be meaningless without the greater context of Rome’s fate.
Even before the film starts, Maximus carries the weight of Rome’s glory on his shoulders. Once he is forced into the life of a gladiator, it would be easy to focus the plot on his impossible quest to survive. But his burden is made even greater by the fact that he is drawn into a plot to save Rome herself.
The movie’s final battle isn’t only a struggle between a beleaguered hero and a twisted villain. Maximus must fight to save Rome from Commodus’ plans to wield absolute power over her people, even at the cost of his own life. We root for Maximus not only because of his deeper values, his love of family and country, but also because he represents the forces of good over evil.
In Gladiator II, it would be easy to give Lucius the same destiny. In one battle, he fights to protect his mother, but their relationship is so muddled that it’s hard to feel any emotional connection to his efforts. In another scene, he fights a scheming villain, but it’s difficult to say whether he believes he’s fighting for anything more than revenge. The villain is certainly evil, but is Lucius good?
In Gladiator II, Lucius is a cipher. We don’t even find out his real name until halfway through the film (I use it throughout this article only because it’s revealed in all the marketing materials; his name for the first half of the movie is Hanno). I don’t mind a mysterious character, and I love a secret identity twist, but it helps to know something about a character. We get a glimpse of him at home with his wife before his city is invaded by Romans, but we don’t know what kind of person he is, what his life is like, or anything else about him.
In fact, all we learn about him from the opening battle is that he didn’t make a sacrifice to any gods before the fighting started. I was very curious about this. Why wouldn’t he fully participate in the ritual with his comrades? Does he not believe in divine power? Why not? What does he believe in—his own skill at fighting? His connection to his fellow soldiers? But his avoidance of religion is never revisited. We never get a sense of whether he believes that “what we do in this life echoes in eternity.”
After his city is sacked and he’s forced to become a gladiator, we get a few glimpses of his hidden character. For one thing, he recites Virgil, an intriguing hint that he spent his childhood in Rome (which we already know if we’ve seen the movie trailer). But why does he choose to recite this particular verse, one about hell?
His captor, Macrinus, says multiple times that he sees “rage” in Lucius—but I found this baffling since I never caught a hint that Lucius felt any such strong emotions. Even if we assume Lucius does nurse a secret rage—where does that rage come from? Is he simply angry that his city was conquered, his wife killed? Angry that his mother sent him away when he was young? That he has lost his birthright to rule Rome? Any of these motivations would be fascinating, but none is ever explored (beyond a scene where he screams at his mother—but why does he do that? Does he not believe that she sent him away for his own safety, or does he resent losing the opportunity to rule Rome, or is it something else that makes him hate her?).
In keeping Lucius’ identity a secret for the first half of the film, the writer sacrifices opportunities to explore the hero’s motivations. But even if we wanted to keep the mid-point plot twist that reveals Hanno’s true identity as Lucius, we could make the character more sympathetic and complex by showing some form of longing early on in the film. Hanno might secretly long for the honor of his birthright, or for a return to his home and mother, or for a peaceful life far from politics, even if we don’t know the full details of his situation.
What Does Lucius Want Before Rome Invades His Home? Three Revision Suggestions.
Let’s pick a defining motivation for Lucius, and a way to illustrate it. (Small SPOILERS ahead, but I won’t spell out the biggest plot twists.)