Conquest of Britain

It would be churlish to describe Centurion as a complete and utter rip-off of Gladiator. Churlish but not altogether inaccurate.


It's set in that grubby period of Romano-British history between Antonine's attempts to thrust deep into Scotland to establish a frontier stretching, crudely, from Edinburgh to Glasgow, and Marcus Aurelius's rather more sensible retreat south, back to the old frontier of Hadrian which stretched from Newcastle ("Wallsend", actually) to Bowness (not that far from Carlisle).


The film tells the completely made-up story of the Roman IXth Legion -- the crack troops of Empire -- being sent north of the Antonine frontier to subdue the revolting Picts.

A revolting Pictish woman attacks a
plastic dummy onto which has been
CGIed the head of a Roman legionnaire.

The entire Legion was lost, allegedly in a surprise attack from a Pictish military genius, and only around half a dozen Romans survived. Their general, played by Dominic "The Wire" West, was captured by the Picts and dragged north, and the loyal band of survivors set off to free him.


You might imagine he has little to fear since the leader of our heroes is Michael "Hunger" Fassbender who, earlier in the film, had been captured by those very same revolting Picts but had escaped in the nick of time.

Here's Michael Fassbender, running.

In fact, a very significant part of this film is taken up with our murderous Roman heroes running (I don't think I've seen this much running in a film since Apocalypto, by mad Catholic bigot Mel Gibson. Or possibly Atanarjuat, though since that film's subtitle was The Fast Runner I guess no-one should have been surprised).


Except, of course, when (as below) they just walk around for a bit instead. Inevitably this is a prelude to a very bloody scene (our director believes in the old, mechanical one-two approach to directing), and, indeed, hundreds of litres of fake blood (let alone CGI stuff) must have been spilled in the making of this film.


Actually it's not that surprising they are usually running, what with the strange she-creatures who are hunting them. On the face of it this film might be considered a feminist text, given the way it restores women to the role of warrior.


Though, since they're made to parade around in skin-tight leather leggings, I'm not sure women everywhere should be celebrating just yet:


There are some rather fine shots of the Scottish countryside throughout the film, but in fairness I can't recommend it (notwithstanding the presence of Dominic West and Michael Fassbender, as well as assorted thesps ranging from David Morrisey to the exquisitely lovely Riz Ahmed -- here, for once, not stereotyped as a Muslim terrorist).


In conclusion, it only remains for me to note that this film also stars the irrepressibly lovely JJ Feild (yes, I know that's a weird way to spell his surname):


And the mere mention of his name is all the excuse I need to reminisce about his role in Peter Greenaway's Tulse Luper Suitcases, a movie about which I've raved before:


JJ stars, and for a significant portion of the film he is tied, naked, to a stake, and left there for us to feast our eyes on his delicious man-parts:


The director is even kind enough to push-in for a close-up of JJ's delightfully small winkie, exuberantly bushy pubiary, and extraordinarily tempting low-hangers:


And with that image, all thoughts of the utter crapness of Centurion disappear from my brain, as JJ's winkie conquers all before it.