Remember when Maximus Decimus Meridius kills his would-be executioners, referring to one derisively as “Praetorian”? There’s legit historical context for this event. Serious tension existed between the Praetorian Guard and the Legion.

The Praetorian Guard had a less-than-stellar reputation as the personal guard of the Roman Emperor (per World History). According to the History of Yesterday, they assassinated 13 of the emperors in their care and “even auctioned the throne to the highest bidder.” The infamy associated with the terror, treachery, and greed they caused soon preceded them. Surprisingly, things started out okay. Caesar Augustus assembled the unit as his personal bodyguard in 27 B.C., and he enjoyed a long life. Three centuries later, however, deep-seated corruption shrouded the military unit. Not only did they murder the men entrusted to their care (isn’t there a circle of hell for this?), but they held some emperors hostage, wielding political power through the sword.

The Guard ballooned from 4,500 soldiers to 15,000 by late imperial times, and they received triple the pay of legionaries like Maximus and his men. Instead of serving 20 years, the Praetorians got off at just 16. And as you can imagine, each new emperor had to pay the Guard steep bribes to stay alive. Things finally came to a head under the reign of Emperor Constantine I, who managed to disband the unit without getting skewered in the process.

Marcus Aurelius was far from your average bloodthirsty, power-hungry, and ruthless emperor (via Britannica). He insisted his adoptive brother Lucius Verus co-rule with him, an unprecedented move in Roman history. Verus had a meager fanbase and represented a “sitting duck” easily scratched out by a man less-reputable than Marcus Aurelius.

But Aurelius’ adoptive father, Emperor Antoninus Pius, had requested the unique arrangement. Aurelius proved a man of his word. In an age when people often had little choice over their career paths, Aurelius proved no different. He longed to be a bookworm and philosopher rather than a great military leader and statesman. Towards the end of his life, he wrote in a journal since published as “Meditations.” The work attempts to reconcile his life and daily activities with his stoic philosophy and desire to study, per History.

The movie “Gladiator” depicts Marcus Aurelius as a logical, justice-minded, and competent individual who spent a lot of time thinking. In this sense, it does a decent job of describing his actual character and interests. What’s more, many scholars believe Aurelius died on the frontier at Vindobona as the movie depicts. However, overwork and stress got him in the end rather than Commodus’ murderous grip. That said, you can’t blame Ridley Scott for wanting to spice things up a bit. After all, watching a workaholic’s dying breaths would have done little to demonstrate Commodus’ irrevocably flawed character.

The movie “Gladiator” depicts Roman senators opposing Commodus. This longstanding institution endured both the Republic and the Empire. But the film also couches them in an anachronistic democratic context that didn’t exist. Although the Roman Republic boasted a democratic constitution, “in practice [it was] a fundamentally undemocratic society, dominated by a select caste of wealthy aristocrats” (via Inquiries Journal). What’s more, by the time of Commodus, centuries cemented the transition to an empire. 

The Republic came crashing down with Julius Caesar’s power grab in 60 B.C. Sure, this resulted in his stabbing death on the floor of the Roman Senate by a group of senators. (Talk about cutthroat politics!) But even assassination couldn’t take the nation off its trajectory into imperial despotism. According to The Collector, “the Roman Senate saw dramatic changes to its composition, influence, and powers” over the many centuries of the civilization’s existence.

Surprisingly, the senators would outlive almost every other institution of Rome, including the vaunted emperors. Perhaps this makes their name even more fitting. You see, the word senator comes from the Latin term senex, which translates simply as “old man.” So, what did “Gladiator” get right about the senators? For starters, they’re accurately dressed and have the distinguished bearing, white hair, and beards you’d expect from these iconic “old men.” And a conspiracy to remove Commodus from power existed, according to the Los Angeles Times. 

Rome’s famed gladiatorial games proved just as savage and popular as the movie portrays them. They included men chained together and fighting in pairs, the introduction of starved and ferocious wild animals, trap doors, and much more (via the Los Angeles Times). And Ridley Scott had a field day including some of these elements in his film.

What’s more, the movie gets right just how popular certain gladiators could become. Perhaps this is best illustrated by the story of Flamma, a Syrian soldier-turned-gladiator (per Mental Floss). He proved so skilled and entertaining in the ring that Roman politicians offered him four chances at freedom. But addicted to the blood, adrenaline, and fame of the Coliseum, he refused. After all, History tells us that gladiators could quickly rise to the ranks as veritable sex symbols. (Gladiator sweat even got marketed as an aphrodisiac.) Unfortunately, Flamma’s love affair with the fame that came with the blade caused his premature undoing. By 30, he lay dead in the ring. Yet, the Romans so adored him that his face got minted on coins!

And if you think Scott’s grandiose vision of gladiatorial competitions proves a little over the top, think again. The Romans spared no expense when it came to entertaining the masses. Emperor Titus had the Coliseum filled with water in  80 A.D. to host a re-enactment of a naval battle involving 3,000 men.

One of “Gladiator’s” most beloved characters is Proximo, a former gladiator-turned-owner of fellow gladiators. He tells Maximus about receiving his freedom from Emperor Marcus Aurelius via the gift of a wooden sword. Known as a rudis or rudes, gladiators trained and sparred with them (via ThoughtCo.). When an individual decisively won a competition, securing his or her freedom, they received a rudis and a palm branch, symbols of newly won liberty.

One of the most interesting gladiator-related historical accounts comes from the poet Martial, who recounted two gladiators fighting for hours. Their well-matched bravery and skill won the hearts of the crowds and resulted in a stalemate. Then, the unthinkable occurred. Both warriors received a rudis and palm branch from the emperor.

What happened to retired gladiators? They forged a new profession. Some became farmers. Others went on to train future gladiators at a local school. The most fortunate warriors rose to the ranks of summa rudis, an elite group that wore white tunics trimmed with purple, denoting their standing. They carried whips or batons, using them to point out illegal maneuvers, and they ensured that “the gladiators fought bravely, skillfully, and according to the rules.” After all, strict rules of conduct existed despite Ridley Scott’s depictions of seemingly no-holds-barred events.