The Odyssey

I had the good fortune of seeing The Odyssey on—apparently—one of a handful of screens in the United States that can play 70mm. I’m not sure it made a huge difference for me versus an ordinary screening. I tend not to be all that visual, nor do I tend to spend a lot of time pouring over details. Unless a movie is noticeably grainy or out of focus, I’m not likely to care about things being in 4K, etc.

I first encountered the Odyssey in 4th grade. (I don’t think I got to the Iliad until 12th grade). It remains one of the most enthralling stories ever told, its plot a wonderful mix of one-damn-thing-after-another adventure, determination, faith and horrible human mistakes. Over the years, of course, I learned my 4th grade account left out a lot of important moments. But then, so did my children’s bible.

The Odyssey is a foundational text for any Western storyteller. It has to be among the earliest and most conspicuous examples of cultural adaptation, thanks to the Aeneid. I’d have to think it’s among the first examples of a sequel story as well, though I’m not sure about that. It might also be the first sequel to get a follow-up, in the now lost Telegony. Curiously, I have a distinct memory of my 4th grade introduction drawing on the Telegony for its conclusion, as Odysseus is killed by a son he had with Circe. The Telegony has this second son taking Telemachus and Penelope back to Circe, who proceeds to marry Telemachus while Penelope marries the stepson who just killed her husband. Somehow I don’t think Homer would have approved. Regardless, my 4th grade version of The Odyssey skipped all that and just ended with Odysseus being killed.

Christopher Nolan’s ending feels more like the Lord of the Rings, with Odysseus becoming an exile and sailing into the “unknown West” with Penelope, leaving Telemachus to rule Ithaca. I have to think Ithaca fell into chaos less than two months after O and P left, but maybe I’m too cynical.

Overall, I quite liked this movie. It’s been about 30 years since I’ve sat down with any version of The Odyssey, so I don’t remember everything well enough to know how much Nolan’s adaptation ignored or changed. The various Youtube outrage merchants—Critical Drinker, Nerdrotic, Disparu, etc—are in their their usual over-the-top hysterics about casting choices, supposed political japes at masculinity, and so on. I’m not always in disagreement with their opinions, but in the case of The Odyssey there’s a real feeling that they’re trying too hard to find cultural insults that just aren’t there. It’s also just pathetic that most of them sneeringly insist on referring to Elliot Page as Ellen, as if just the courtesy of respecting someone’s name change (regardless of reason) is too much to ask. Do they think they’re taking some great cultural stand by engaging in such petty scorn? In deference to the movie, haven’t these jokers ever heard of Zeus’ Law (Xenia)?

There were a few choices I didn’t care for. The sequence with Polyphemus is done pretty well as a horror concept, but terrible as an adaptation of the myth. In Nolan’s version, there’s no verbal sparring between Odysseus and the cyclops, which influenced later classic scenes in fiction, like Bilbo vs. Smaug. Odysseus does not have his moment of hubris that condemns his men to the wrath of Poseidon. Instead, his men just assume Poseidon is pissed off—not because of the cyclops’ original blinding, but because Odysseus decided to shoot a second arrow into the wound for good measure after Polyphemus throws a dead Greek’s armor at him. There’s nothing wrong with this unspoken back-and-forth goading, but it’s a poor substitute for the original events.

After escaping the cyclops’ cave, Odysseus and his men run down to the beach to board their ships, leading to a sequence that’s going to be repeated a few too many times:

1) We need provisions. Let’s land on that island.

2) The men march up from the beach.

3) The men encounter something terrible. Odysseus yells, “Run!”

4) Continuous wide-angle shot of the men fleeing for their lives, chased by some kind of monstrosity, while more men struggle to push the boats away from the shoreline.

The second time this happens was the most baffling sequence, as Odysseus encounters a small boy who starts screaming like the terrified kid on Santa’s lap in A Christmas Story, alerting a group of almost invincible giants wearing identical, pristine armor. Why are they dressed for war? Is that just what they wear? I had no idea at all of who these characters might be and had to look it up afterwards. Apparently they were the Laestrygonians. I still have only the vaguest memory of them, and I think their presence in the original story is probably a Homeric version of Raymond Chandler’s advice: “When in doubt have a man come through a door with a gun in his hand.”

Things I loved? The entire Circe sequence. The events in Hades. The ultimate return in disguise as a beggar, the stringing of the bow and the ultimate triumph of the suitors. In the 1990s, The Learning Channel did a series called “The Great Books” narrated by Donald Sutherland, and their episode on The Odyssey remains an engaging analysis. When the episode discusses the aspect of the return, one of the commentators talks about it being the universal fantasy we all have of being the superstar in disguise. The Odyssey in that sense suggests that human psychology hasn’t changed a bit across time or cultural landscapes. Gods change. Humans don’t.

What about those gods, anyway? I’ve been interested to read complaints about their absence and the suggestion that Athena is entirely a hallucination brought on by Trojan War PTSD. In hindsight, the film very well may be going in that direction. All I can say while watching it is that I just had no doubt Athena was there with him. Maybe that speaks to my own desires, or maybe it was just me bringing the text’s certainty into the adaptation. As for the otherwise physical absence and interaction with the gods, I feel there’s an undercurrent that it would be too goofy for the film. Or maybe the omission was just a concession to time, though Nolan could have cut any number of flashback sequences to work them in if he truly felt they were important. I suppose he just didn’t (or maybe the specific translation he based his adaptation on didn’t include the gods either…no idea).

The last aspect of the movie for me is how Nolan starts making Odysseus sound like Oppenheimer, the subject of his previous movie. Disguised as a beggar, Odysseus gives a long monologue that explains and recontextualizes the Trojan War for the audience. When the movies are placed beside each other, there seems to be a clear comparison made between the Trojan Horse and the nuclear bomb and the men behind both inventions. Cleverness, obsession with a plan, a determination to see a vision come true regardless of costs—only to realize afterwards that the costs are too high, that the plan will threaten the world with terrible consequences, that cleverness without wisdom will bring about doom. This is a point that I think the kneejerk political Youtube reviewers are missing. They’re saying this adaptation of The Odyssey is attacking toxic masculinity and war. I think in many ways it’s rather the opposite. Odysseus is remonstrating against the guile and treachery he used to sack Troy. As a hunter, he’s shown plucking his bowstring to warn his prey and give them a chance. The Trojan Horse is an acknowledgement that this bit of noble fair play has failed on the beaches of Ilium. Far from attacking masculinity, I think the argument being made here is that the use of subterfuge was the most unmanly of acts, and has opened the door for the marauding Sea People, those mysterious Bronze Age raiders who played a questionable role in the historical Bronze Age collapse.

TLDR summary: movie pretty good.

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Lydia Millet’s A Children’s Bible