The Romans had a bit of an ambivalent view on gladiators, both current and former. If they had been slaves or captives and somehow came to be free, they had the choice to continue fighting as a freedman (a rudiarius) or hang it up and just become a regular freedman, though probably one with a little more fame than the average freed slave just trying to make his way in the big city. Any status they had as former gladiators carried over from when there were actual gladiators.

During the Republic, gladiators were classified legally as infames -- that is, without most legal rights. In particular, they were not protected from acts of violence under the law, which categorized them more with slaves than citizens (who by definition enjoyed protection from unwanted violence).

All the same, certain gladiators became celebrities. Tacitus complains that he hears nothing but talk about gladiators when he goes to study (Dial. 29). Their fights were frequently hyped and broadly advertised, much like a high-profile fight in Vegas today. Expensive art pieces (like floor mosaics) frequently depict gladiatorial munera. We have the names of some gladiators from Pompeii in graffiti, and they appear everywhere.

The successful gladiator embodied some of the most pervasive core values of the Romans: first, armed aggression and competence; second, victory and perseverance; third, excellence of physical form. He (or she, sometimes) was, essentially, the idealized Roman idea of virtue on display. As such, they were walking contradictions. They were among the lowest social caste, but were showered with admiration from both men and women. There was also an undeniable sexual element to gladiatorial bouts and their stars (see Juvenal satire VI).

For more, check out Barton, The Sorrows of the Ancient Romans: The Gladiator and the Monster. 1993.