Gladiatrix is a delight to watch, let down slightly by a plot that could have done with five more minutes to wrap itself up neatly and deliver proper closure.
A musical set in the Roman gladiator fights, Gladiatrix digs into (and creates) the forgotten stories of female gladiators. The cast of seven — four female gladiators, two male, and Emperor Septimius — isn’t a single weak link vocally, and the performance is expertly polished from start to finish, bursting with energy and commitment.
In particular, Emperor Septimius is a true highlight, both musically and comically. The cast as a whole embodies very strong choreography skills, with tense moments in the fights drawing genuine gasps of fear from the audience.
Some of the Roman references feel a little shoehorned in at times, with some of the exposition leaning more towards a university lecture than an engaging musical. Still, when the tempo of the songs ramps up and the astonishing stunts get going, you forget about the less-than-scintillating fact drops and instead get swept along by sheer spectacle.
Every character gives their all, even when they are in the background. It is that attention to detail that elevates Gladiatrix to the level it achieves, even if the lacklustre ending fails to deliver on the unspoken promises the musical makes.
The four female gladiators are compelling from the very beginning. The more you learn about their stories, the more you want to know, only for the final scene to feel unfinished. While it ends on an impassioned speech for unity and standing up for others, Gladiatrix’s final moment is sudden enough that the audience is not quite sure if they should be applauding yet.
Despite being impeccably performed, Gladiatrix fails to bring it home completely, leaving loose ends that deserve to be tied and preventing the show from fully realising its considerable potential.
