Treachery
and tragedy go hand-in-hand as the Roman empire witnesses yet another
struggle for power. The dynasty of the Flavians reigns but the lust for
supremacy drives the nobility in the race for the curule chair of
apparently unlimited power. While the ambitious hatches a coup, the
cunning waits for the opportunity, and the apparent plebian gambles for a
subtly ambitious strategy of ascendancy! But as the fight for power
continues, the ordinary suffers the most! But these puppets of the
empire are kept at bay by the games of death and bets.
The amphitheatre hosts the gladiators and the charioteers who battle for their lives and for the stakes of pleasure. The arena soakes in blood while the audience lauds the carnage! Cruelty reigns supreme while sentiments run raw! Many a hearts are killed while new hopes rise afresh. The lives of the gladiators hang precariously on the cold whims that the head of the nobility commands. The commoners bet on the lives and horses as the sports of blood appeal to the baser instincts.
But the smell of blood reeks the royalty too as the apparently noble and those who rule play deadlier games, in the arena of politics. As the race for supremacy infests the factions, conspiracies are set afoot and human lives matter little to the firmly ambitious.
As both the games spill blood, the only class that flourishes is the underworld. Gambling dens greatly prosper and the profits fuel the conspiracies. A particularly scheming owner tries his fortune to rise across the peers while a mother desperately tries protecting her wards. As they both unite in a silent pact, the collapse of many a formidable starts! Curiously enough, in the filths of the corrupts, the purest of amours also finds a place.
With a compact theme spiced with thrilling pace, the guilty pleasure of the blood sports will fade against the tragedies that matters. Created by Robert Rodat, the drama will be remembered for the twists that terrifies, the violence that chills and the tragedies that inherently disturbs! As to the acting, Sara Martins is magnificently perfect with Iwan Rheon closely following while Anthony Hopkins provides the refined touch of sickly classic aristocracy. But the series falters under less thoughtful direction (Marco Kreuzpaintner, Roland Emmerich) that could be planned way better for a subtler touch to emphasize reality.
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