"Those About to Die" is a new series on Amazon Prime that is set in ancient Rome and so far has proved popular in Türkiye. Its title originates in the salutation gladiators made before commencing their fights, and it is shown in the series, the full version being “we, who are about to die, salute you.” The year in which the series commences is 79 C.
E., which is a fateful year in the Roman Empire, for it is the one in which Titus succeeds Vespasian, being the first father-to-son imperial succession in the Roman Empire, and Mount Vesuvius erupts burying the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum. The series covers these great events – the succession to Vespasian being one of its key storylines.
However, much like the 2005-2006 series "Rome," with which it has other striking similarities, the main focus of this drama is on two people on a social level below that of the dizzying heights of the imperial family, even if they do wind up being caught in its machinations. These two lead roles are the supposedly cynical and ambitious Roman bookmaker Tenax, played by Iwan Rheon, who literally grew up in the underbelly of Rome, beneath the Circus Maximus where the city’s games are held, and Cala, a devoted Nubian mother, played by Sara Martins, who has traveled to Rome to attempt to free her adult children who have been enslaved by the Romans. Those children themselves also have important roles to play in the series in addition to a large cast of other characters making up greater or lesser story arcs of their own.
All, of course, interconnect, creating a giant skein. In visual terms, the series is extremely impressive. Much like with the 2000 film "Gladiator," the viewer feels actually transported to ancient Rome, the chariot racing in the Circus Maximus in particular depicted in such a grand and realistic manner as to give a real sense of the thrill that ancient audiences must have felt watching this spectacle.
The settings have also been brilliantly created. They range from the atmospheric grimy narrow slum lanes on the Cispian Hill to the beautiful house of the Consul Marsus and Antonia with its spacious colonnaded apartments, on the Esquilline. Then there is the famed monumental architecture of Rome, from the Temple of the Vestal Virgins to the newly built Colosseum.
There is also the use of color with the warm light pastel tones found on the excavated buildings of Pompeii having informed the sets. Atmospheric lamp light is also used extensively, with, for instance, the lamps with their guttering flames in the high corridors of the palace, the overall effect recalling that of the Turkish series on the Ottoman dynasty Magnificent Century, set in another palace in later centuries would rule over much of what Rome had once done. Moreover, it is not simply in its grandiosity that this series is a visual delight.
There are highly pleasing small details. For instance, I particularly liked that the doorbell is literally a bell next to the door. It is both more visually and aurally pleasing than the electronic device we have today.
I also liked that in the privileged viewing area in the Circus Maximus used by the chariot team owners, there is a great mural of Hercules beating the Hydra with a club. One further element in which the grand and the less so link and which show perhaps that ancient Rome is not so different from our world is the splendid opening to the games in the Colosseum which resembles a choreographed Superbowl show, as well as the little gladiator models that are sold in the audience – merchandising long before the advent of capitalism. That I have started this review by focusing on the visuals of the series may seem odd when dealing with a drama.
The reason I have done so is that it is, unfortunately, the consistently best part about it. In fact, in a certain sense, the series misleads the viewer right from the outset. The opening credits in which, to the ominous beat of a drum, a marble Rome is literally flooded with blood, is deceiving.
For whilst there is violence in this series, and moments when it is graphic – an arm severed here, a head bitten off by a crocodile there – it is not generally of the kind that disturbingly strikes home, and on the whole, the drama is relatively mundane. This has something to do with its tone. In general, there is a great tone of cynicism in the series.
The civilization of Rome is viewed in this manner. Cala calls Rome “dangerous” and a “den of serpents” whereas her son Kwame regards its people as “ravening wolves.” Nonetheless, the reality of the avowed cynicism of the series is best summed up by the character that is meant to embody it – that of Tenax.
Before looking at him, it is to be noted that a character who espouses ethical conduct but is privately revealed to act in their self-interest may be compelling to a viewer in their hypocrisy. On the other hand, a character that puts forth cynical platitudes but is found to have a basic fundamental decency is simply dull. This is the problem with Tenax.
He is one of those supposedly amoral heroes that are particularly common in modern drama as being a supposed welcome replacement to the annoyingly priggish virtuous hero of the past. However, this new type is irritatingly clichéd in itself, and the amorality is not comprehensive. Were we to be confronted by the truly unsettlingly fully amoral heroes, such as Grigory Alexandrovich Pechorin in Mikhail Lermentov’s A Hero of Our Time, the effect would be very different.
However, Tenax and his type are molded to seem amoral in areas in which the modern viewer feels little to no ethical investment, but to be thoroughly human in areas in which the viewer does. Thus, Tenax, supposedly raised into cynicism through having grown up, as he puts it, in “filth,” and having as a child known no “warmth” or “safety” but by “one ugly errand” at a time managed to climb out of poverty, has not been emotionally stunted by the experience. Cynicism is often on his tongue and in many actions that would not disturb the viewer, but when it comes to the crunch, he manifests a fundamental decency that even leads Cala to tell him “You’re not as heartless as you pretend.
” Most significantly, he is caring and compassionate to children. This of course would make Tenax a pleasanter man to know, but as a character in a drama, he is rendered somewhat dull, for it does not leave the viewer in suspense as to what lengths he might actually go. The wider cynicism directed toward Rome is similar.
The populace, when dealt with as a whole and at a distance are depicted as violent, fickle and easily bribed, and this is true for the upper class as well. Yet, they are detached from the viewer to such a degree that the viewer cares little. Where the viewer is more engaged, the overall impression is less cynically stark and more mixed.
One example is that toward the beginning of the series, we learn that the bodies of fallen chariot racers could be sold as animal feed. Yet, toward, the end, we conversely learn that there is an insurance pool for chariot drivers. With the characters that are developed for us, complete cynicism is also unjustified.
The character of Salena reveals that “since my mother’s death my uncles have abandoned us,” her father has become a drunkard and her gambling-addicted husband steals her shares and gambles them away, still finds true love with Fonsoa, and when he dies, it looks as if some restitution is coming her way. There are many meaningful relationships formed in the series, not least the one of unavowed friendship between Tenax and Cala. Cala herself at all times lives for her children, and also it is to be noted that her knowledge, especially of languages, enables her to rise in the city.
The relationship between Cala’s daughter Jula and Fonsoa’s brother Elia is romantic. There are strong friendships, such as that between Kwame and the gladiator Viggo who calls him “brother,” and also between Elia and the former charioteer Gavros. Its confused tone is, after Tenax, perhaps best revealed in the story by the consul Marsus (Rupert Penry-Jones) and his wife Antonia (Gabriella Pession).
They are set up as an ambitious amoral pair par excellence. With them, cynicism initially seems at first to rule the roost. There is no marital fidelity, for Antonia has an affair with Scorpus the star chariot racer, so their marriage seems one of convenience, the bond between the pair existing due to their shared interests.
Antonia is especially ambitious for her husband, and it is clear there is nothing she will not do to sate her ambition. The pair have thus permanently alienated their daughter by making her a Vestal Virgin as part of their long-term goal of a power grab. But when Marsus’ attempts to reach the intended ambitious heights go awry, the picture changes to one in which Antonia is deeply moved by the outcome as it affects her husband, and the previously vapid Marsus also turns out here to be heroic in placing the interests of his family, and especially his son, over his own.
There is nothing wrong with a surprising character reveal of course. The problem here is that the same character seems to just drift from one type to another. There is another way in which the supposed general tone fails.
As with the other entertainments, the gladiatorial fights are shown to be potentially unfair, in that we learn that there can be starving, cutting, or poisoning of a gladiator before a bout. Yet, unsurprisingly, the good gladiator that we should be invested in invariably wins, thus taking the sting from another piece of cynicism. All in all, rather than a “pit of vipers,” it seems that Rome certainly appears a tough city to live in, which is true of all great cities in the past, but the message of cynicism is unwarranted.
Here I want to move on to the Flavian family. This upstart dynasty, regarded as “Flavian scum” by the more established families in the city, is made up of Vespasian and his two sons Titus and Domitian. To start with Titus, played by Tom Hughes, is emperor for most of the series, whilst the superficially cynical type of character of Tenax is dull, Titus, the new emperor, whose duty is centered on his “beloved Rome” of a more traditional heroic type is even duller.
Not only is he dull but his love affair with Berenice is dull too. Nonetheless, with the other two Flavians, the character portrayals are on a whole different level to all of the others. Vespasian, however, as would be expected of a character played by Antony Hopkins is brilliantly rendered.
Yet even here, there is room for complaint by the viewer. For though Hopkins’ image is used to promote the series, he is hardly in it at all. Thus, whilst when he is on screen he dazzles, these appearances are rare.
Then there is Domitian, played by Jojo Macari. He is manipulative, being praised by his father for being “good with words,” and unlike Tenax, he is truly warped, and cynical and is on the whole great to watch. His avowal that “loyalty” is “the dumb trait of the ignorant” reflects a deeply held belief in his case.
In his emotional makeup, he has a striking resemblance to Commodus played in "Gladiator." However, this is not a simple retelling of that story, with here fraternal rather than filial tension being to the fore. Domitian holds resentments against his brother, such as having been bullied by him when a child.
Yet as a deeply ambitious individual, Domitian’s greater animosity against his brother is the favor that Titus receives from Vespasian. As for Titus’s relationship with Domitian, he is too much of a simple dullard to plunge the depths of his brother’s twisted soul. Though often distrustful of him, Domitian uses his duplicity to leave Titus wondering whether he is “a somewhat strange, but loyal brother or the best liar I have ever seen.
” Domitian also gets off on the violence of the games in the Circus Maximus. He is almost completely indifferent to the fate of others, though an expression of feeling does escape him when he sees someone he has cared for die, even if he is the cause of it. In Domitian, cynicism has truly found its place.
All that being said though, even that is sometimes too overladen and can on occasion become annoying. Humor is very rare in this series. Were it more dramatic, that would not be an issue, but due to its general mundanity, humor could have been used to make it more engaging.
However, the line used to market a Briton slave woman that “she cooks all the wonderful dishes for which the Britons are so famous” whilst an anachronism was brilliantly placed. There is another instance when a guard shouts “you can’t leave your horse here,” a comedic case of Roman bad parking. There is an ahistorical aspect which I disliked and it is that superstition is mocked in the name of science.
A medical cure is attempted for poisoned horses whilst incantations are dismissed. The star charioteer Scorpus reveals that whilst the common belief for his great success in the Circus Maximus is due to the goddess Fortuna touching him in his mother’s womb, the truth behind it is that he tests the sand of the track before a race. However, in ancient Rome science and superstition would not seem separate in the way they do to us.
I would like to close by noting that the advantage of a TV series over a film is the extended time in which not only the main storyline can be developed, but minor ones too, as well as a greater fleshing out of characters. In this series, however, this extra time is sadly wasted. Story arcs emerge only for their denouements to be anti-climatical.
Those that are not easily predictable end with the viewer feeling little investment in how they play out. This tied to the confusing tone means that even though the acting on the whole is good, the series as a whole does not justify its 10 one-hour episodes. It could have been severely compacted with little loss and perhaps even some gain.
It was not a slog to watch all 10 episodes but neither was it a joy and there were few occasions in which I felt on tenterhooks as to what would happen next. To return to Tenax, he is described by one of his slaves as “better than some, worse than others.” This is not only an apt summation of the character but also of the whole series that he fronts.
As a spectacle, it is great, as a story it is much less so. In short, I can neither recommend that anyone interested in trying this series go ahead with or refrain from it. Review: 21⁄2 out of 5.
