What do we know about the Romans? We know they had rather large mohicans not even a helmet could tame, and communicated with their thumbs. We know they developed an extensive system of security straps to stop their sandals flying off in times of war. And we know they sounded like Americans.

We also know their leaders were fat, lazy and corrupt while the 'real' Romans were oppressed and forced into menial jobs such as entertainment murderer, or 'gladiator', as early political correctness would have it. This was clearly a bit unfair. Their job was to distrast the masses from their numbing existence and keep them docile, stop them rioting over the interest rates on chariot loans or the rise in mosaic taxes, or the way they never got invited to those great toga parties with the foam and everything. We know all this beyond doubt. What we're not sure about is who stabbed Julius Caesar like he was some kind of dartboard.

Playing as Octavianus, however, we can find out and creep through the shadowy corrupt Roman corridors of power. Developer Capcom is keen to stress the instructional, historically nearly accurate nature of the game, but we're keen to skip straight on to the terrible injuries you can inflict on crying people who've wet themselves. For this, though, we must introduce Agrippa the centurion who is the muscle-bound counterpoint to Octavianus's wispy sleuthing. He's the one oppressed into the 'murder for the crowds' situation and is the second playable character. So. Octavianus: softly-softly stealth and we'll get to him in a minute. Agrippa: overwhelmingly violent. Pick a favourite. Duh.

Agrippa is only a centurion at the start, but soon becomes a gladiator (a name derived from a particularly powerful sword, the gladius, and nothing to do with gladioli, which are flowers first discovered by Charles Darwin during a 1983 concert by The Smiths). Agrippa's first few levels see him fighting giant hairy men in the grim black forests of Germania, and despite the tactically questionable decision of capturing the grim black forests of Germania at all, you needn't wait long for some fun. Weaponry is amusing from the start. And forget what you've heard about beige - bows are the new black. Far more fun than a sniper rifle, these long-range weapons are incredibly effective, which you'll come to appreciate later when you're on the wrong end of one...

Soon, however, news of Caesar's death reaches Agrippa's unit, and it turns out his own dad has been arrested for the murder. Agrippa rushes home only to find his mother is to be put to death as well, almost saves her, screws it up in front of, like, everyone, and makes a powerful enemy in the process. Whoops. Thus the stage is set for Agrippa to take terrible vengeance on this mother-killer/father-fitter-upper/uncle-funker and clear the family name. He becomes a gladiator in order - bear with us, we're getting to the violence - to face off against the bad guy and generally save the day. Sound familiar? Like a film that might rhyme, say, with Schmadiator? Of course it does.

This is (a) how you find yourself in small, ingenious arenas slaughtering hordes of murderous lunatics, and (b) why it's okay to feel bad about it, but not to stop. Two things stand out about these gladiatorial 'games' from the very start Firstly, you're almost always heavily outnumbered, and can have almost everyone attacking you and not each other. Which hurts. Here [points to heart]. Secondly, just killing them won't do. Style counts for everything, and the game enforces this in some neat ways. The most obvious is with the Salvo meter, which is filled by pulling off crowd-pleasing attacks even Crimewatch wouldn't reconstruct.

Most weapons are very close combat efforts - swords, daggers, other people's legs - and even the longer ones such as maces (spiky balls on poles), morning stars (spiky balls on chains) and shorts in winter (spiky balls... okay, perhaps not that one!) are risky to use.

All the weapons in Shadow Of Rome 'wear out' and eventually break with use, so securing fresh ones is key. You can wrestle them from the living, steal them from the dead or beseech the crowd to throw you one, which they may do if there are no others left. But this is not your fundamental problem.

You must watch your back because any attack opens you up to injury, and your health can disappear very quickly. The crowd throws cheese and chicken sandwiches at you, or at least the ingredients, but only a few times during a bout and only then if they like you. Plus, munching on a chicken leg or cheese triangle leaves you rooted to the spot and - you guessed it - vulnerable to further attack. It's a sly way to create tension: you've got to attack to get the best supplies, but it's attacking that creates the need for them in the first place. And you have no choice but to attack.

Agrippa can also throw any weapon, which is useful, but again it will do little to impress (as will a bow or a slingshot) unless used as part of a combo. Attack with enough flair to fill your salvo meter, however, and the rewards are great. When cornered by a mob you can lose terribly, but when you win, you win big. Roaring at the crowd with a full meter sees enormous weapons thrown to you, six-foot nightmares of steel that cut people down like doctors' receptionists. A single one can win a whole battle. Letting someone else get it first is a very bad idea.

It happens, though, and it's not the only frustration. Fights must be cleared in one go, and that might mean killing ten guys in one room and then ten or twelve more in another... one round rook us over two hours. It's frustrating, but it kept us coming back. And swearing. The way you're forced to get in there and ham it up - wars of attrition just don't work - makes it hard to be too dour about it. Still, some may well get stuck and never see the end of the story (hint: Latin dies out).

And the story is Octavianus' territory. As a somewhat feathery-boned intellectual type, his investigations require stealth and cunning. The stealth part isn't too hard because guards frequently face the wall and show up clearly on the early Roman radar screen. Duh. But while it's hardly Metal Gear Solid, there is some cleverness involved. Sneaking into the Forum involves stirring up a riot to distract the guards, for instance, and getting to one bee-covered door (don't ask) involves a honey delivery man and a banana skin. You do the trigonometry. Other touches include diving for cover into fortunately placed man-size vases dotted throughout the various areas you sneak through - like a precursor to Snake's cardboard box (what the Romans did for us, eh?) - although there's also a hefty amount of talking to Romans, listening to Romans and the creeping up on and knocking unconscious of Romans as well.

The locations and style - togas are still fresh in gaming, whereas stealth suits are in need of a rinse - also help ward off bad feeling, as does the way strong story chapters alternate with the light relief of near-senseless brutality. It's a strange mix, but one that leads to a surprisingly cinematic, constantly fluctuating pace. One minute you're stoving someone's head in, the next eavesdropping on a dodgy politician. It's quite charming. In fact, the game's weaknesses seem trivial and even endearing at times... though at others you'll curse them like other people's kids. Whatever your eventual reaction you should, at least, invest in finding out.

Graphics 80%
Colourful and solid, plus lots of blood.

Sound 80%
Lovely chunky weapons, amusing voices.

Gameplay 80%
Impressive jack of all trades. You'll love it.

Lifespan 90%
Takes ages; battles are endlessly playable.

Overall 80%
Occasionally frustrating but mostly fantastic. The battles are brilliant, the stealth bits passable and the overall effect is stunning.