Rome (2005) Should Be In the Pantheon of Great TV Shows

Season 1 of Rome, the HBO-BBC co-production which aired in fall 2005, is one of the finest seasons of television I have ever watched. Created by John Milius, William J. MacDonald, and Bruno Heller, the show succeeds in all areas: in the casting and performances; in the scripts for individual episodes (many of them written by Heller) as well as in the overall narrative structure; in the cinematography (by Alik Sakharov) and direction (Michael Apted helmed the first three episodes); in the sets and costume design; and in the musical score (composed by Jeff Beal), which incorporates instruments from the ancient Roman world. But the show isn’t just artistically excellent; it’s also immensely entertaining.

Season 1 charts the rise and fall of Gaius Julius Caesar (Ciarán Hinds), from his triumphant conquest of Gaul, through his civil war with Pompey, to his ascent as dictator of Rome, to the notorious events of the Ides of March in 44 BC. To help us witness these well-known events from a new perspective, Milius, MacDonald, and Heller centre the show on a pair of protagonists little known to history. Although Lucius Vorenus (Kevin McKidd) and Titus Pullo (Ray Stevenson) are based on centurions described by Caesar in his writings on the Gallic War, they are largely fictional constructions. 

Vorenus and Pullo, however, are far from mere plot devices. While they hold together the several intertwined narratives in the season, their own individual storylines, which run separately but frequently crisscross, are equally compelling. The two are written as opposite personalities. Lucius Vorenus is traditional, conservative, and obsessed with honour, while Titus Pullo is affable, impulsive, and roguish, but both characters have deep flaws that lead them to damage themselves and those around them in pretty shocking ways. Take Pullo’s quickness to violence, for instance. A bar fight will lead him to require brain surgery—in a world of “Drink this and bite down” instead of anaesthetic, mind you. Pullo will do the dirty work that others can’t or won’t do, and he destroys innocent lives, especially those of slaves, with little regard. Likewise, Vorenus’ inflexibility and inviolable honour will lead him to unforeseen success as well as wrenching tragedy.

McKidd portrays Vorenus as a stiff, reliable man; McKidd often appears to be visibly restraining the many fierce and competing emotions and responsibilities the character possesses. Ray Stevenson (who sadly passed away in 2023) gives a memorable performance, full of coarse humour, frustrating foolishness, and moments of incredible sadness. Vorenus and Pullo’s initial animosity for each other will turn into eventual brotherhood. This development, while unsurprising, is achieved in a wholly convincing and satisfying way. Although Vorenus comes from an old family line, both characters are plebeians, which is to say, of the general class of free citizens in Roman society, as opposed to the patrician nobility, as well as the immense population of slaves. Vorenus’s and Pullo’s lower status from the principal actors behind the major events—I’m talking about the patricians known to history, such as Caesar, Pompey, Mark Antony, Cicero, Brutus, etc.—is one way the show presents a novel vantage point on the decline of the late Roman Republic.

But contrasts between classes are not the only contrasts highlighted in Rome. The show is far too rich and multidimensional to be concerned about just one or two themes. At times, the dynamic between Vorenus and Pullo plays almost like this is a buddy-centurion show, as they rib one another and get the job done; other times, their conflicting values point to the wider fault lines and crises in the society of the late Republic. Vorenus and Pullo have very different motivations: the former cares about honour and tradition and the Republic’s founding principles, while the latter pretends he just wants to make a quick buck and spend it as quickly, but displays strong personal loyalties. The show wonderfully balances their familiar character-type features alongside real depth and complexity. McKidd’s Vorenus and Stevenson’s Pullo are great character creations and they are the beating heart of this television show.

Although Vorenus and Pullo carry the show, Rome does a great job of portraying its large cast of historical figures viewers will likely recall from history class or reading Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar in high school. I don’t have the space to mention them all, but I have to mention Caesar. Ciarán Hinds is brilliant. Hinds plays Caesar as an intelligent, scheming, strategic man, yet not one so cold and cunning and inhuman that emotion does not motivate this great man’s choices. The storyline reveals him to be a leader who knows how to maneuver on the battlefield as well as the Senate floor, through the spectacle and rhetoric of the Forum as well as in the darkness of the city’s alleyways. Hinds’ Caesar is a great portrayal of a real and famous person that achieves what is often so tricky: he avoids being a wooden caricature, while also being pretty much what we imagine Caesar to be like. 

To mention a few more performances: James Purefoy’s Mark Antony at first seems like a one-dimensional patrician rogue, but we begin to see that this is actually a part Antony is constantly playing in the game of Roman power. There are also several key female characters. The show is keen on showing how, while legally and formally lacking any power in Roman society, women were still movers in both the domestic and public spheres. For instance, Polly Walker’s Attia of the Julii, Caesar’s niece and mother of Octavian (Max Pirkis) and Octavia (Kerry Condon), amasses soft power and influence through socializing and multiple sexual liaisons. Lindsay Duncan’s performance as Servilia, Caesar’s mistress, Indira Varma’s performance as Vorenus’s wife, Niobe, and Kerry Condon’s performance as Octavia are notable for their multi-dimensionality. All three could so easily have remained stereotypes—of the scorned mistress, of the long-suffering wife, of the ingénue—but they are each given fully developed character arcs. The showrunners even take time to develop smaller supporting characters, such as Caesar’s slave, Posca (Nicholas Woodeson). Milius, MacDonald, and Heller develop a rich, varied world on screen, and show careful attention to the many directions power operates in Roman society. 

Rome is also a well-crafted, handsome production, but it is not a classical widescreen Hollywood epic. Rather, the focus is on the close quarters of this ancient mega-city. In comparison to some recent historical and fantasy world-building, the show finds a good balance between avoiding the look of a clean and bright Technicolor epic, and avoiding being so gritty and gross that it becomes a parody of human depravity. (I’m thinking about HBO’s House of the Dragon, which has no bottom to its cynicism, and how some gritty historical works in recent decades come too close to the parodic muddy peasants harvesting muck in a field in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.)

For Rome, CGI was used to create certain backdrops, while the Roman Forum was actually built in Cinecittà studios (which has housed many Romes over the years). In general, though, the show favours interior conversations over unnecessary visual spectacles. The restrained use of CGI and the selective set construction contribute to the show’s visuals remaining convincing almost two decades after the production. Well-written scripts mean that we don’t feel robbed of not seeing a big battle, when we just see the aftermath, because we understand and care about the focus of the storyline.

Rome is deeply insightful as it depicts the varieties of life in the imperial capital. There are acts of intense violence and raw pagan eroticism, as well as quiet moments of personal confession and domestic bliss. For its depictions of cunning political intrigue, the show rivals the best of Game of Thrones or Season 1 of House of Cards. I was at turns guffawing at the exploits of our Roman soldier protagonists, and other times intensely disturbed by the unflinching depiction of tragic events. Overall, the show’s framing succeeds as conventional dramatic storytelling while also helping us to see ancient Rome in a new way. 

Indeed, the show demonstrates a remarkable interest in manipulating the audience’s sense of familiarity and strangeness in regards to ancient Rome. I’ve already mentioned how telling much of the story through the eyes of Vorenus and Pullo allows the audience to freshly witness some of the most well-known events in world history. But, at times, the strategies and techniques for defamiliarizing Rome go even deeper.

Rome portrays the ancient world as both something familiar, a world that we can see reflections of our modern age in, and something strange, a place immensely distant from the world after Christ, filled with rites and rituals and social norms we can only begin to vaguely understand. The opening title sequence’s depiction of graffiti on the city walls (which I’ve written about before) immediately showcases the show’s concern for not taking the typical cinematic approach to Rome, and instead focusing on minute, mundane details of life 2000 years ago, or on the strange rituals that undergird the Roman worldview, such as a character bathing in the blood of a just slaughtered cow. Other aspects, such as the horrible treatment of women and slaves, drive home Rome’s lack of any sense of human equality or innate human value. Other times, we are shocked by discovering historical parallels, such as the populism of Caesar. More than once, I was thinking about Trump and recent politics through the lens of these events. 

In our Table Talk on The Last of Us from last year, Aren and I commented that television narratives (via cable and, most importantly, streaming platforms) have entered a stage of constant expansion and superabundance yet decline in terms of quality and storytelling. Given my present dissatisfaction, it’s been a joy to discover shows of this calibre from recent history, especially as I already know and love the most renowned titles, such as The Sopranos, The Wire, Mad Men, and Breaking Bad. Season 1 demonstrates that Rome deserves to be ranked among those shows as one of the highest achievements of the Golden Age of Television.

Rome, Season 1 (2005, USA/UK/Italy)

Created by John Milius, William J. MacDonald, and Bruno Heller; starring Kevin McKidd, Ray Stevenson, Ciarán Hinds, Polly Walker, Max Pirkis, Kerry Condon, Lindsay Duncan, Indira Varma, Nicholas Woodeson, and James Purefoy.

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