Spartacus: Blood & Sand: Reversing Gender Struggles By Corrina Lawson

June 28, 2010

I started watching Spartacus: Blood and Sand on Starz because I love shows about ancient Rome and I was curious if this one would match up to HBO 's Rome . Spartacus was supposed to be the story of how the slave gladiator led a rebellion that kept Rome's much vaunted legions at bay for two years.



I wasn't expecting too much, just a glimpse of what life might have been like for gladiators and a little of the culture that surrounded them.



Spartacus far exceeded my expectations. It's not as historically accurate as it could be and it relies far too much on over-the-top gory special effects, but what it does have in abundance are characters that I grew to love.



Among them was a fellow that, at first, seemed a one-dimensional bully, Crixus, but by the end of the show, Crixus' character journey has brought him full circle. His story has become a fascinating tale of gender power struggles but this time with the usual roles reversed.



The male Crixus is the rape victim, the one being abused, and it's his mistress, Lucretia, the lady of the house, who takes on the role of manipulator and abuser yet all the while claiming to love him.



Yet when Crixus makes his first appearance in the show, he seems to be the master of his domain.



He's the champion of Capua. He's either adored or feared by the rest of the gladiators. The crowd loves him. He has no peer in battle. His master heaps praise on him.



He has his place in the world and loves it.



He's so protective of this place that he tries to kill Spartacus on several occasions. Crixus has a burning need to make sure only men worthy in his eyes earn entrance to the brotherhood of the gladiator. Spartacus, who spits on the very idea of gladitorial games, is clearly not worthy.



Crixus has truly drunk the Kool-Aid about the glory of being a gladiator.



While Crixus carefully nurtures the fantasy presented by his owners, the audience soon realizes that he's little more than a pawn. His "power" is only an illusion.



First, Crixus is being repeatedly raped by Lucretia. Though she claims to care for him, what she really sees him as is her special sexual toy and private possession. Lucy Lawless plays Lucretia with a combination of lust and pure creepiness. Eventually, Crixus begins to resent this "duty," especially when he falls in love with a fellow slave, who also happens to be his mistress' handmaiden.



Things get worse for Crixus when he's horribly wounded in the arena and his recovery takes a long time. His master, Batiatus, is ready to simply toss him aside. Capua has a new champion now: Spartacus. They don't need the old one.



But instead of denouncing the system that now views him as garbage, Crixus wants to win back his previous place among the gladiators and regain his "honor" as champion. He still doesn't see how he's being used. He just wants things back the way they were.



It takes two shocking events to make Crixus see the light. The first is when his lady love, Naevia, is given to another man by his master. Crixus goes insane with rage. Naevia is beaten and sold away. Crixus himself is whipped into submission.



It's when he finally admits to himself what he really values is his lover, not his status in the arena, that he begins to see the light. Still, when he's offered a chance to get Naevia back by killing Spartacus in a duel, Crixus accepts. Fighting in the arena is the only life he knows, it's familiar and somehow comforting.



He never gets the chance, though, to prove himself again. Lucretia is willing to help him in his battle if Crixus professes his love for her. This Crixus flat-out refuses to do, even though Lucretia is pregnant with his child. Lucretia then doesn't tell him of the plan to drug his food to make him lose the duel. She's content to let him die for the sin of refusing to worship her.



Their relationship comes to a completely chilling conclusion when Crixus encounters Lucretia in the middle of a bloody slave assault in the last episode. Lucretia points out that he can't hurt her; she's carrying their child.



What Crixus does next is hardcore; he slices her stomach open to prevent any child of his from being birthed by this monster who's destroyed his life.



As much as I loved Spartacus' final confrontation with his murderous master in the finale, it's Crixus' actions that really haunt me from this episode.



It made me wonder how it would play if a woman slashed open her own stomach to prevent a child of rape. The only incident I can remember in fiction recently is in Ed Brubaker's run on Captain America . That's also a chilling and hardcore but a very in-character moment.



Spartacus: Blood & Sand takes some serious storytelling chances, with gender role reversals, with depicting just how thin the veneer of civilization is in Rome, and with all the violence and nudity. But it pays off, especially in the finale. I highly recommend watching the first season, though I admit it takes about three episodes before it really gets good.



History says the leaders of the rebellion, including Crixus and Spartacus, were destroyed by Rome. But as hinted at in the famous Hollywood movie, the Romans didn't know exactly what Spartacus or the other leaders looked like. They could easily have simply claimed to have killed them while, in reality, Crixus or Spartacus or others could have made it to the wilderness and safety.



I like to think that, perhaps somehow in history or fiction, Crixus did find his happy ending. Unfortunately, answers will have to wait for whenever Season Two is filmed. Right now, the producers are putting together a prequel while Andy Whitfield, who stars as Spartacus, recovering from non-Hodgkins lymphoma.



Spartacus: Blood & Sand  Official website of Spartacus: Blood & Sand

Katrina Law's Blog  Excellent blog by one of the ladies who stars in Spartacus

