3.10 Victory If anything was wrong with the final episode, it was that it lacked twists. There were no fake-outs, no diversions from history, no surprises: just the grimly inevitable slaughter, beautifully finessed though it was. But what it lacked in twists, Victory made up for in sheer weight of drama. And that it had in spades. Caesar and Kore telling Crassus the awful truth about his recently dead son. Crassus and Spartacus agreeing to meet, unarmed, and trying to strike a deal. Agron fighting with shattered hands, Gannicus finally assuming the mantle of general, and of course, an extended fight scene with the invention and style to rival any other in the series. It might not have been a particularly adventurous ending, but it was certainly a crowd-pleaser. It’s what former gladiators would have wanted. But what of Spartacus himself? After proving himself Crassus’ better in single combat (and how else could that have gone?) he ended up dying not at the hand of any main character, but on the spears of several faceless legionaries who arrived, unexpectedly, aiding their master just in time to save his life. It was the perfect end for Spartacus, and a metaphor for his entire campaign: one where personal victories frequently emerged from sheer force of will, but where the movement itself was always doomed to defeat by the sheer numbers and organisation of Rome. It wasn’t a personal failure that left him vulnerable to defeat, just the practical inability to fight everyone at once. And in the end, it was Agron who delivered the inevitable speech reminding us that even if Spartacus dies, his story will live on (and let’s face it, that’s the real “victory” of the title). As for the eponymous hero, not only did he avoid ending the series with the classic declaration of his name (nonetheless fantastically invoked in the opening scenes) but he actively renounced it on his deathbed, reminding us that he once had a different name (one now forgotten by history) and looked forward to hearing it again in the afterlife. A wonderful moment of selfish human desire for a man otherwise consumed by his ideals. So, how does one eulogise a series like Spartacus? For a start, it was full of contradictions: Gratuitous yet philosophical. Exploitative yet egalitarian. Epic yet personal. Like its characters, it was perhaps most comfortable when confined to the arena, but when the time came to grow beyond those walls it seized the opportunity and looked back only in occasional reflection. It didn’t always work, but when it did it turned out moments that sit amongst the best on TV. For a series that started out looking like sub-grindhouse schlock, that’s not a bad legacy to leave. Read James’ review of the previous episode, The Dead and the Dying, here. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter for all news updates related to the world of geek. And Google+, if that’s your thing!
