Many people here have talked about the quality of this series, which opinions I agree with. The show is sumptuous not only in its depiction of noble Rome, but also that of common Rome, the people whose lives and work made the Republic possible. The characters are well-drawn and excellently acted, and the production is top-notch, especially considering it as a TV production, which usually come off as less polished to me.
The theme I would like to talk about is the depiction of religion in Roman life. It is rare to see a pagan culture portrayed as well as this one is, and in as detailed a manner. Not that the religious aspects of the culture are harped on; they're not. But the gods are ever-present in just the way that gods are in any culture that is centered on its religious beliefs and practices. There are paintings, murals, mosaics and figures; shrines and priests and rituals; blessings exchanged between spouses and curses thrown between enemies; all of them with the ring of historical authenticity.
And it's not just the fact of their presence that impressed me, but also the attitude shown towards this part of Roman life by the filmmakers, one of complete, factually based acceptance. Unlike so many films, these people are not in the slightest way looked down on or demonized for believing as they do. There is no tinge of "poor deluded fools" or "godless heathens" here. On the contrary, everything about their religious life is taken just as seriously as one could hope for. (Or at least, as seriously as the characters themselves take it, which of course varies depending on whom one is watching, just as it would if the film were about modern people in a modern world.)
This theme becomes apparent from the very first moments, during the magnificently clever credit sequence. The gods and beliefs of Rome are literally brought to life in shots of the streets, walls, pillars, and passageways of the city, where the ever-present chalk and paint grafitti (yes, the name really IS that old) begin to dance to the haunting, sensual Mediterranean musical theme. (I certainly hope to see a soundtrack album soon!) It's an enchanting, slightly unnerving short film in and of itself, a little meditation on how the stories we believe in are constantly around, behind, above and beneath us, inspiring and supporting our daily lives. The snake painting slithering on the walls, the chalk lion roaring in the shadows, the hastily sketched Birth of Athena with its attendant bloody show, the quickly slashed outline of Priapus (Romans were very centered on the primacy of the phallus, a fact which is not ignored in this show), Medusa's serpent hair writhing and hissing from a mosaic - all of these charming and disquieting images flash past us and establish a world full of depth and mystery. And that's just the first manifestation of this theme in the series.
There are serious, weighty scenes of solemn ritual, private moments of prayer from individuals to their personal gods, the occasional philosophical exchange about the whims and possible intentions of the gods, and other such touches to the scripts, which seat the people and the culture squarely within the framework of a religious worldview, and that's something that I rarely find in films about bygone eras. Usually, if a culture isn't Christian, its religious realities are either ignored, glossed over, trivialized, or exaggerated in some grotesque, ignorant way to prop up the prejudices of our own day, that wish to believe our dominant religions are the only possible ones for "civilized" people. It's exceedingly rare to see this one handled in such a matter-of-fact way.
As an instance, I was especially pleased by the moment when Vorenus is bidding his wife goodbye before marching off to battle. They embrace, and Niobe murmurs, "Bellona protect you." To which Vorenus answers, "And Juno keep you." Bellona was the Roman goddess of war and bloodshed, and Juno was the matron goddess of wives and marriage. To hear those two names used in such a natural and tender scene, and used CORRECTLY, was quite touching and very satisfying. (The only other time I can remember a scene of pagan religion so well handled was in another film about Rome - Ridley Scott's "Gladiator", where the little scene of Russell Crowe's character praying in private to his household gods was played so naturally and so reverently that it literally brought tears to my eyes.) There are several moments like this little exchange between husband and wife, and other ways in which we learn how important religion was to Rome and its people, such as Caesar's sponsoring of Octavian to the College of Pontiffs.
Now, I don't want to give the impression that this is a major part of the show. The whole point to its effectiveness is that the religious themes are in the background, only sometimes at a level where they actually influence events. But in another way, they're influencing events constantly. Just like today, religion was woven throughout both politics and daily life in Rome, and this series helps us understand how and why. And again, the filmmaker's non-judgmental attitudes about the presence of such things really helps to give the film credibility in its portrayal of Roman life as a living, breathing reality, rather than some white marble stereotype, both sterile and stale. And for that they are to be commended, which I do most heartily.
Oh, and in reponse to the criticism below of the portrayal of Cleopatra and her court: the portrayal here is, in fact, quite accurate. Lots of people make the mistake of equating Cleopatra with Nefertiti, but the Ptolemies were not native Egyptians. They were of Greek stock, and took over the throne of Egypt rather than inheriting it. Cleopatra did NOT live in Pharaonic times; her family reigned centuries after the last of the Pharoahs had died. Historical accounts of the period describe her as a pale-skinned, red-haired woman with freckles, and there are images of her extant from the period, in which we can see she was no relation at all to the dusky, long-necked beauties of the Pharoahs' courts. It's true that the Ptolemies did try to revive the old Pharaonic styles, mostly in order to make the people accept them better (and, to be sure, partly because it was all very cool and made them feel powerful and godlike), but it was an attempt to bring back a time and culture that was gone, rather than a hereditary continuation of it.
