
I approached the second season of HBO’s ROME with some trepidation. How could an encore compare with Julius Caesar’s ascension to Imperator and subsequent betrayal and assassination in the remarkable first season? I needn’t have worried. The strength of ROME is much deeper than Ciarán Hine’s indomitable Julius Caesar. The excellent ensemble cast and equally adept writers return and deliver an engaging story.
ROME’s story is driven from the bottom up. Two mostly fictional characters, Lucius Vorenus and Titus Pullo (Caesar mentions the real men by name in his
Commentarii de Bello Gallico – the only rank and file soldiers so honored – but little else is known of their lives) are the twin pillars that support the narrative. In the first season, Vorenus is humorless, honor-bound, and taciturn. Pullo is rash and impulsive; the very embodiment of his contemporary Horace’s admonition ‘Carpe Diem.’ His character is particularly engaging. I cannot imagine a cold-blooded murderer with whom I’d rather have a beer (though I wouldn’t try to cheat him at dice). Pullo’s poor decisions often land him in mortal peril and Vorenus just as often bails him out. As the second season opens, it is Vorenus who is in crisis and Pullo who steps into the role of caretaker. This sets up a recurring theme in the second season: the world has been turned on its head.
In the wake of Caesar’s assassination, the Optimate conspirators are on the ascendant and Brutus and his Senate cohort are poised to assume power. Mark Antony, Caesar’s blunt instrument, is sharp enough to recognize the tenuousness of his position and prepares to flee with his lover (and Caesar’s niece) Atia and her family. With one foot out of the city, they stop to fetch Caesar’s widow Calpurnia. Against Antony’s judgment, they tarry long enough to read the dictator’s will. To everyone’s great shock, Caesar’s will reveals that he has adopted his great-nephew Octavian and left him the vast majority of his estate. The unusually astute young Octavian is first to see the tactical advantage of the will. The Optimates cannot maintain a hold on power without controlling Ceasar’s great wealth. They can only invalidate the will and expropriate his property by justifying the assassination as a legal tyrannicide. However, one cannot selectively invalidate the acts of a tyrant; it is all or nothing. So in order to gain access to Caesar’s wealth, the conspirators would have to give up their own positions of power into which Caesar had appointed them and subject themselves to the will of the people. As more contemporary history reminds us, highly placed conspirators and practitioners of skullduggery are loathe to risk their positions of privilege on anything as pedestrian as a fair election.
I digress. The contending parties agree to a status quo ante. Caesar’s will is valid. The Optimates and the Julians maintain their positions of privilege and all parties vie for position from which to best exact revenge upon the others. Here I had some concern. A major conflict was emerging between Antony and Octavian. As executor of Caesar’s estate, Antony was content to enrich himself and ignore young Octavian’s protestations for greater control over his money. However, it was difficult to take young Max Pirkis’ Octavian seriously. James Purefoy’s Antony had half a foot of height and a two to one weight advantage on the boy. One could hardly see them as adversaries. The one physical confrontation between the two actors was handled well but as Octavian retreated to regroup, I was convinced that the dramatic tension of this conflict was unsustainable.
Exit Max Pirkis and enter Simon Woods as Octavian. Some time has passed between episodes. The writers would have you think a year or two had passed. The physical difference between the two actors who play Octavian would suggest eight to ten years. It is a shock but it is good for the story. This Octavian is a suitable foil for Antony. Still cerebral to Antony’s primal, he is at least as cruel and even more shocking for the cold calculation of his violence.
Octavian and Antony fall in and out of conflict. Poor Marcus Lepidus, completely out of his depth as the third member of the ruling triumvirate, tries to find advantage between the squabbles of the primary antagonists. Meanwhile, Atia of the Julii and Servilia and the Junii escalate their first season feud. While women were not holders of office in the late Roman Republic, these women wielded great power over their families and by extension Rome. Cicero, wizened elder statesman, plays Octavian and Antony off one another and plays both of them off of Brutus in exile. Cicero ends up holding the short straw but his final scene is a treat. Both well written and beautifully filmed, it is a suitable tribute to one of Rome’s great orators and statesmen.
Octavian and Antony come to one final conflict and as astute readers of history, we know the outcome in advance. Octavian triumphant, remade as Augustus Caesar, leading Rome through the death throws of Republic and into Empire.
But I said this story was about Vorenus and Pullo and it is. These inseparables, these brothers, are indeed separated and more than once. Vorenus’ family, used as a lever to expose Caesar in season one, is broken. Broken by those nobles enumerated above and broken without regret. It is quite clear the ruling class is incapable of conceiving regret as a possible reaction to using ordinary people thus. And herein lies the seeds of Rome’s decline. Through Vorenus and Pullo we see the grand struggle writ small. These men are subject to the same weaknesses as their betters. Attacks of hubris, lust for power, moral compromises, conflict, and rapprochement all exert their toll. Unlike their noble counterparts, these men manage to retain an essential goodness or at least a hope for goodness that binds us to them and makes us care about what happens to them, By extension we care about what happens to Rome.
-Greg Careaga