When an actor commits himself to a role as fully as Russell Crowe does in the grandiose and silly "Gladiator," you may ask yourself why and at the same time thank him for his absorption in the part.

No one has tried a revisionist take on the gnashing-teeth, sweaty-torso, clanging-steel epic since Arnold Schwarzenegger crushed all the consonants under his sandaled feet in "Conan the Barbarian" almost 20 years ago. The story of a proud Roman soldier who is sold into slavery and must fight his way back to freedom, "Gladiator" suggests what would happen if someone made a movie of the imminent extreme-football league and shot it as if it were a Chanel commercial.

In fact, the movie's director, Ridley Scott, filmed the perfume ad; he made most of Chanel's more memorable spots. Mr. Scott's inhuman, glossy style is fey and terse: postcards from Mount Olympus. At least that's where "Gladiator" seems to take place – there or some other mythical area, since the Roman Colosseum is roughly the size of the Death Star from "Star Wars," thanks to the magic of computer graphics. With each scene composed for an audience's delectation of the constant slaughter, the movie is both pandering and detached. It's like a handsomely designed weapon: you can't take your eyes off it even though you may be repelled by its purpose.

The first battle, when the hero, Maximus, leads his troops against Germania, is full of Bruegelesque imagery. Flaming arrows fly through the sky, resembling tracer shells from a World War II movie; a sword is left in the side of a tree, steam issuing from the warm blood dripping from its blade. After the battle, ashes drift from the sky like snowflakes. And that is all in the first 10 minutes.

As Maximus, a general in the army of Emperor Marcus Aurelius (Richard Harris, who looks as if he went mano a mano with too many Bombay martinis), Mr. Crowe has the keen, repressed rage of a man devoted to his flag, or of a movie star who doesn't have the patience for stupidity. There have been numerous reports that the badly behaved Mr. Crowe turned the shooting of "Gladiator" into his own version of the Fall of the Roman Empire. But his temperament gives the picture a center: Maximus looks as if he has a thousand things on his mind, most of them unpleasant.

Yet his work isn't all glower. Even though he hasn't smiled in a movie since the underrated "Proof" in the early 1990's, Mr. Crowe is given to a hurt swallow when he's uncomfortable, and to a look of suffering in his eyes. He is struggling to hold on to his dignity in the face of humiliation, a trait that runs through characters in most of Mr. Scott's films, from Harvey Keitel's in "The Duelists" to Demi Moore's in "G.I. Jane."

Maximus is like a son to Aurelius, a notion that doesn't make Aurelius's own son, Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix), too happy. Commodus kills his father and orders a hit on Maximus. The soldiers sent to dispatch Maximus aren't quite up to the job; he survives the murder attempt and ends up a slave under the thumb of Proximo (Oliver Reed), a former gladiator who sends his own men into the ring.

Mr. Reed seems to find it delicious that he is mentor to a character he might have played himself a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. With a satisfied, sleazy purr and red still dancing in his eyes from the last party he attended, Mr. Reed still looks capable of malice; the movie misses out by not sticking a blade in his hand. (He died before filming ended.)

Maximus is forced to fight to stay alive in the Colosseum while awaiting the chance to take his revenge on Commodus, up close and personal. "In this life or the next, I will have my vengeance," he snarls. Maximus confounds all expectations by becoming a star in the ring. When he upsets a historical battle re-creation, Commodus muses, "My history's a little hazy, but didn't the barbarians lose the battle of Carthage?"

In the bowels of the Colosseum, where life is cheap, Maximus turns the other gladiators into an army. As played by Mr. Phoenix, Commodus is like a serious version of Dr. Evil, coming on to his sister (Connie Nielsen) while she pines for Maximus in this brazen mix of blood sport and soap opera: "Rocky" by Ross Hunter.

Mel Gibson was said to have been the original choice for Maximus, but Mr. Crowe – given extra nobility by a Caesar haircut – has a ball-of-fire rage he can barely contain, similar to Mr. Gibson, before stardom mellowed him. Mr. Crowe's no-nonsense baritone even sounds faintly like Mr. Gibson's voice, and both have the elongated vowels of an Australian trying on an American accent.

Mr. Crowe sometimes has too much energy for a role. He's not good at standing still; in "The Insider," trapped under the extra weight he put on for the role, his active-man's discomfort in that suet became the performance.

The battle scenes in "Gladiator" don't have the exultant lift of Hong Kong period-action pictures like the "Once Upon a Time in China" series, where the fights have the eye-popping panache of dance sequences from a musical. Here, they're more like "W.W.F.: The Motion Picture," complete with chest puffing and the hero challenging his boss to a duel.

But in "Gladiator," Mr. Crowe does get to move, and there aren't too many English-speaking actors who get so much pleasure out of physical exertion. He treats a sword like Ginger Rogers, twirling it masterfully and snatching it out of the air while on horseback – the kind of action flash inspired by Hong Kong movies.

Much of "Gladiator" was inspired by other movies, enough to make you wonder if it's homage, or if it's actionable. Mr. Scott's infatuation with European decadence, which led him to turn the Los Angeles of "Blade Runner" into a futuristic version of Weimar Republic Berlin, is in abundance here. Soldiers move in formations out of Leni Riefenstahl's "Triumph of the Will."

The movie wants to criticize the crowds thirsting for violence, yet it doesn't shy away from presenting gladiators wrestling with tigers. Commodus waxes dementedly that "the power to amuse a mob is power." It's the only kind of power "Gladiator" desires.

In the movie's first battle, Maximus strides off to "unleash hell," and his loyal dog dives off after him. In the pitch of the fight, the doggie disappears. Perhaps in an earlier version, the pooch was killed and the filmmakers learned there are things movie audiences won't accept. It's the closest the film comes to integrity.

"Gladiator" is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). It includes decapitations, exultant mutilations, stabbings and the odd tiger assault.

GLADIATOR

Directed by Ridley Scott; written by David Franzoni, John Logan and William Nicholson, based on a story by Mr. Franzoni; director of photography, John Mathieson; edited by Pietro Scalia; music by Hans Zimmer and Lisa Gerrard; production designer, Arthur Max; produced by Douglas Wick, Mr. Franzoni and Branko Lustig; released by DreamWorks Pictures. Running time: 150 minutes.

WITH: Russell Crowe (Maximus), Joaquin Phoenix (Commodus), Connie Nielsen (Lucilla), Oliver Reed (Proximo), Richard Harris (Marcus Aurelius), Derek Jacobi (Gracchus), Djimon Hounsou (Juba), Tomas Arana (Quintus) and Tommy Flanagan (Cicero).