Gladiator

"What we do in life...echoes in eternity."

Here's a film that grapples with the concept of what makes a person great. One's life is not a series of achievements, but a series of deeds.

We are not our résumé. We are not our awards, our trophies. Our greatness is predicated on what we do, yes, but in my view, greatness is about who we reach, not what we reach.

I think about this sort of thing when I watch Gladiator. I see the film as a (three-hour) parable. I look back on what I've accomplished with my own life: degrees, awards, recognition. I'm not satisfied, and I don't want to be proud of this stuff; pride leads to arrogance and complacency.

I'm not done yet. I don't ever want to be done. I might not know what to do next (in fact, sometimes I think I'm frozen in place), but I still want to do things.

Seven years ago, I stood at my grandmother's grave and vowed to live a life that would make her proud of me. Two months ago, I stood at my mother's grave and promised the same thing. And, as I will not speak to either of them again in this life, I won't know if I've made either of them proud enough.

So I just keep doing what I'm doing. Live a good life, do good things, make a difference, and all that stuff. Hope they're watching.

These themes are what bring me back to this film. I know deep down that Gladiator is not nearly as good as its thematic predecessor, Stanley Kubrick's Spartacus. I know there are some over the top Hollywood histrionics at play here, what with the whole "Are you not entertained?" thing. None of that stuff matters.

I've probably seen Gladiator a dozen times over the years. I re-watch because the film is gorgeous — the kind of huge film with a simple, universal story that resonates with me, and makes me want to be better. I keep watching, and I keep doing.

"I will see you again. But not yet. Not yet."