Age of Treason

Synopsis: It's 69AD in Rome and streetwise hustler Marcus Didius Falco gets caught up in the death of the son of a man close to the new emperor, Vespasian. Hired by the victim's sister to discover the truth, Falco and his newly acquired slave, the gladiator Justus, uncover plots involving a cult which reaches into the Imperial household.
Genre: History, Mystery
Director(s): Kevin Connor
Production: Sony Pictures Entertainment
 
IMDB:
6.1
PG
Year:
1993
93 min
73 Views


(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(GRUNTING)

(CROWD CHEERING)

MAN 1:
Get in there! Come on!

(LION SNARLING)

MAN 2:
Get back to work!

FALCO:
It looked like just another

day at the games, didn't it, Falco?

But then in this Rome, things

were rarely what they seemed,

and I was never big

on the games.

Something about blood sports

just troubled me.

Especially if it was my blood

someone wanted to sport with.

-MAN:
No! No!

-There he is.

Now, these were the first games sponsored

by our latest emperor, Vespasian Caesar.

And it was a safe bet the whole city

would turn out for a rare glimpse of him

and the power that would

ruled their lives for decades,

or maybe only for days.

No one was taking bets

on that one yet,

at least not the pair

touting me.

Get out of the way.

I'm down here

to see Senator Garrus.

Rumor has it he likes to inspect

his stock before they fight.

And I'll move

when it suits me, Thracian.

It'll suit you now.

You break that lift, I get

whipped for one week.

And don't call me "Thracian".

-Helmet!

-Senator Garrus?

On his way to the box by now.

Sword.

Go.

(TRUMPETS HERALDING)

(CROWD CHEERING)

FALCO:
I liked treading into the upper

classes even less than I liked gladiators.

But I'd had a bad run of luck

at the chariot races lately,

and from the looks

of my following there,

it wasn't about to get

any better.

No, like it or not, Falco,

it was definitely time

to collect on some

debts of your own.

Hail, Garrus Libatus! The day

is honored by your presence.

Who in Juno's name is that?

Oh, that's Falco.

You remember him, Garrus.

He was that private informer

you hired

to recover me

from those Salacian pirates.

Justus fights like a god,

doesn't he?

Justus?

Oh, yeah.

A regular Mars made flesh.

And may I add that the Lady Livia

has a keen eye for combat?

Lady Livia has a keen eye

for far too many things.

And considering

what it costs me,

it would've been cheaper to

have let the pirates keep her.

At least they had what it took

to keep me occupied.

I'll wager they all

got to occupy you.

Look, while we're

on the subject of finance,

there's just the small matter of

my fee, which is still outstanding.

Just a slight oversight by your

accountant, no doubt, but...

Money, and more money.

Great Jupiter's loins! You sound like

our new Caesar over there, Vespasian.

Is that all Rome thinks about

these days?

It's all you have

any passion for!

That's different,

I'm a senator.

Do you know he has put a tax on

owning more than 100 gladiators?

Inconceivable.

I swear the man's trying

to erase the Roman deficit,

and ruin me in the process!

LIVIA:
Then why not give

some of them to me?

That way,

they stay in the household

and you can avoid

paying the taxes altogether.

I wouldn't mind taking Justus

down there off your hands.

Providing he lives, of course.

How very clever of you,

Livia, my pet.

But tell me, just what would

you want to do with him?

Mmm...

I'll leave you to the games.

But if you could send a messenger

around with a balance,

then your name would be praised

in places you never dreamed of.

FALCO:
Uh-oh. What's this?

Soldiers? Now two?

Oh, perfect.

Curse me, but it was him!

The Emperor!

And one cross look

from that face

could crush a life

or a whole nation

with all the force

of a living god.

I knew. I once locked

eyes with an emperor,

and just for that he had me

hunted till the day he died.

The eyes, Falco!

Watch the eyes!

The Emperor has arrived?

He awaits you thus, Praetor.

So much

for the corridors of power.

But I'll take a noisy alley

anytime, thank you.

There he is.

It appears

we have a victor, Caesar.

-Rome awaits your pleasure.

-(ABSENT-MINDEDLY) Mmm.

You know, Pertinax, this accounting

provides may figures,

except how much this week

of games is costing us.

Two million sesterces

and change, Caesar.

(INCREDULOUSLY)

Two million sesterces?

For games?

FALCO:
There it was,

another fighter

sacrificed on the altar

of Rome's amusement.

I wonder if that was Justus.

No, better to just

forget those names, Falco.

Gladiators are nothing

but trouble.

And you didn't need to be Aristotle to

see somebody had just gone to a lot of it

to take me for a ride.

I considered

fighting my way out,

but the odds were I'd lose and be

carted off in his big sedan anyway,

with a broken jaw or worse.

Up!

-Forward!

-FALCO:
You know,

there are laws in the Republic

against this sort of thing.

I thought a ride home from the games

might give us a chance to talk in private.

If this is about work,

my office is in the public baths.

So I've heard. But then I've

never taken a bath in public.

-Is it fun?

-Not compared with being cornered

like some Bithynian bull

and boxed in here for sale.

If my men were rude in extending

that invitation, please tell me,

and I'll have their throats

cut for you.

Thank you, but I think I've seen

enough blood to make my morning.

Then it won't offend you

to listen.

That depends on

what you've got to say.

I need to find someone.

Then go tell the magistrate.

Or better yet, have him call out

the Praetorian Guard.

No, I need this done quietly. And that

means only someone like you can do it.

And if someone like me were

interested, which I'm not,

who exactly would I be

quietly looking for?

A young man. His name is Cato.

We arranged to meet the other

night, but he never arrived.

-I need to know why.

-I don't look for lazy lovers.

And I don't pay

to have them found.

My rate's 150 sesterces a day

plus expenses.

You rate is 100 a day.

I'll pay you 200, plus

a cash advance of six days.

Have we finished

talking about money now?

Possibly. But there are

other things I'd need to know,

starting with your name.

From what I hear,

you need the extra 100 a day

far more than you need

to know my name.

So let's just leave it

at Helena for now, shall we?

DRIVER:
Halt!

It appears we've arrived.

I'll have the money

sent over to your office

along with a small bust of Cato,

so you'll know his likeness.

I haven't said

I'll take the job.

You haven't said you won't.

And Falco, thank you for

sparing the necks of my men.

But cross me in this and I won't

be as generous with yours.

FALCO:
"Let's leave it

at Helena for now," eh?

She was the essence

of Rome itself.

Beautiful, rich,

and very dangerous.

But then, turning down

200 sesterces a day...

So which to choose?

An omen might be handy now,

some sign to point the way.

(CLATTERING)

Finally! Why should I

worry myself warning you

if you're too damn drunk

to take notice?

I wasn't drunk, Lenia.

I was contemplating.

Well, you better start

contemplating the pair

that's on their way up

to see you now.

Because one of them's big enough

to stand across the harbor

and pee all the way

to the palace!

FALCO:
The landlord!

I'd been dodging his goons, not to

mention the rent, for months now.

And if he couldn't get

anything out of my pocket,

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Lee David Zlotoff

Lee David Zlotoff (born July 10, 1954) is a producer, director and screenwriter best known as the creator of the TV series MacGyver. He started as a screenwriter for Hill Street Blues in 1981. He then became a producer of Remington Steele in 1982. more…

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