Gladiator Page #12

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The interior of the Colosseum is a busy world unto itself.

Maximus and the others are lead by Proximo's guards down a

long ramp and past countless animal cages. Gamblers

circulate everywhere and observe the warriors, angling for

the best odds and the best matches.

Maximus and the others are led even deeper into the bowels

of the Colosseum to a new whole subterranean realm.

Numerous cells line the walls. Racks and racks of

weaponry and armor.

And, most striking, everywhere around them is the heavy

machinery of the spectacles above. Huge "elevator"

platforms and ramps and pulleys and counterweights are

manned by teams of sweating slaves.

INT. COLOSSEUM - HOLDING CELLS - DAY

Finally, Proximo's guards lead the gladiators to their

holding cells. These cells are right at the edge of the

arena. Barred windows offer a sand-level view of the

action.

Maximus immediately goes to a window and looks out.

He cannot see much of the entire arena, but what he does

see transfixes him.

A band of Christians are huddled together. An eerie

silence from the Colosseum but for the prayers of the

Christians.

Maximus watches them. One little girl peels past her

mother's arm. She sees Maximus. She smiles.

Suddenly a dozen ferocious lions race up a ramp by Maximus

-- they roar into the arena --

We do not see the carnage. We watch Maximus' face as we

hear the sounds of the slaughter.

And the sound of the roaring crowd.

Maximus finally cannot watch. He drops his head.

INT. COLOSSEUM - TRAINER'S LAIR - DAY

Proximo is with a dozen other gladiator trainers and the

Colosseum's orator and majordomo, CASSIUS. They are

haggling in an secluded area not far from the arena

itself. Huge chalkboards chart the day's matches and

wagers and odds.

Colosseum touts continually erase and mark new figures on

the chalkboards to keep up with the swiftly changing

bouts.

The roar of the lions and the unnerving screams of the

Christians can clearly be heard.

CASSIUS:

... and the Emperor will have no

more animal battles today --

Upset roars from some of the trainers.

TRAINER #1

You promised me a bear match,

Cassius!

TRAINER #2

I have ten damned gorillas! You

said gorillas yesterday!

CASSIUS:

Talk to the man in the imperial box.

Who has the next slot...?

(he checks the

boards)

-- Lentulus, Gideon, Trebonius and

Proximo --

(to Proximo)

-- Nice to have you back, you

piratical bastard -- now listen, the

Emperor wants the Carthage

spectacle.

The four trainers explode in a flurry of resistance --

PROXIMO:

No -- have pity, Cassius -- !

TRAINER #3

My men are too good for -- !

CASSIUS:

You give us the Carthage match or

lose your spot on the rotation --

but don't worry -- gold is flowing

from the Emperor's fingers.

TRAINER #3

It'll cost you --

PROXIMO:

I won't do it for less than 100,000

sesterces -- !

TRAINER #4

120,000! All I have is my best

Thracians!

CASSIUS:

(to Proximo)

And I want to see this famous

Spaniard of yours -- his reputation

soars from the provinces. The

people are eager for him --

PROXIMO:

I won't throw my Spaniard into a

spectacle! Damn you and damn the

rotation!

CASSIUS:

You will and the price will be

90,000 sesterces each --

(to all)

-- which you all know is exorbitant

-- AND IF YOU EXTORTING BLOOD-WHORES

TRY TO PAWN OFF LESSER FIGHTERS ON

ME I WILL SEE YOU DEAD IN THE ARENA

TOMORROW!

TRAINER #4

My Thracians are worth -- !

CASSIUS:

Give me your best, brothers. They

die before Caesar.

He strides back to the arena. The touts instantly begin

making new marks on the boards to represent the mysterious

"Carthage Spectacle" as some of the trainers hurry out.

Proximo walks with Trainer #4:

PROXIMO:

I give you 30,000 my Spaniard will

kill at least one of your Thracians.

TRAINER #4

30,000?! On a Spaniard?! That

provincial sun has curdled your

brain!

PROXIMO:

Then make the wager, you smug

bastard!

They disappear down a dark corridor, negotiating all the

while.

INT. COLOSSEUM - HOLDING CELLS - DAY

Maximus, Juba, Vibius and another of Proximo's gladiators

are being armed. They all wear mask-like helmets.

Proximo hurries to them.

PROXIMO:

All right -- there are three other

teams, four men each --

(to Maximus)

You know what a Thracian looks like?

MAXIMUS:

Yes, but --

PROXIMO:

Ignore the others -- go for the

Thracians. The sun is to the east

-- over the gate -- keep your back

to the gate and you won't have the

sun.

MAXIMUS:

What -- ?

Trumpets begin sounding from the arena.

PROXIMO:

Hurry -- !

The guards quickly bustle the four toward a gate leading

to a dark tunnel to the arena.

PROXIMO:

Die well and we'll sing songs about

you for a generation.

Short swords are shoved into their hands and the gate

rises. They are pushed into the dark tunnel leading to

the arena. The gate closes behind them.

The four gladiators stand for a moment and then slowly

walk down the tunnel to...

EXT. COLOSSEUM - ARENA - DAY

At last we see it.

The mighty Colosseum Arena.

Nothing we could have possibly imagined could have

prepared us for the sight of the thousands and thousands

of screaming spectators, the row after row of cheering

faces.

It is staggering.

But for Maximus none of this exists. His full attention

is focused on one spot alone. The Imperial Box.

He can see Commodus and Lucilla sitting in the box. The

box is elevated fifteen feet above the arena floor at the

top of a sheer black marble wall. A cohort of fifty

imposing Praetorian Guard Archers surround the box.

Commodus' personal Body Guard of six Centurions actually

stand in the box itself, eyes constantly watching like

modern Secret Service agents.

Commodus is untouchable.

Meanwhile, three teams move from different entrances to

the arena.

As Cassius orates to the crowd:

CASSIUS:

This day we reach back to hallowed

antiquity to bring you... THE FALL

OF MIGHTY CARTHAGE...!

(the crowd cheers)

... On the barren armies of the

barbarian Hannibal! Ferocious

mercenaries and warriors of all

brute nations bent on merciless

conquest! Your Emperor is pleased

to give you... THE BARBARIAN HORDE!

He gestures to the gladiators in the arena. The crowd

laughs, jeering the "barbarians."

The drummers begin pounding out a more insistent, heroic

beat.

CASSIUS:

But on that illustrious day the Gods

sent against them Rome's greatest

warriors...! The very life-image of

nobility and glorious valor... who

would on this day, and on these same

arid Numidian deserts, decide THE

FATE OF THE EMPIRE... Your Emperor

is pleased to give you... THE

LEGIONNAIRES OF SCIPIO AFRICANUS!!

The crowd EXPLODES in cheers as the huge doors at one end

of the arena suddenly burst open and ten chariots thunder

in --

Each chariot has a driver and an archer, both dressed in

theatrical versions of the familiar Roman Lorica

Segmentata.

A chaos of dust -- and the battle is on --

The chariots zoom around the arena -- the archers keeping

up a deadly hail of arrows.

Maximus immediately dives onto a passing chariot and kills

the charioteer and archer -- he dramatically leaps from

the front of the chariot to a lead horse and cuts it free.

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