With all the bravado, complaining, and politicking over the
movie, I decided to watch for myself.
The Odyssey is a foundational epic of the West,
exploring themes of courage, overcoming hardship, dealing with moral failures,
recognizing danger near and far, and understanding the consequences of one’s
actions, even if you never learn from them.
It’s about the journey, not the destination.
Your identity must resound beyond your surroundings, your
challenges, or even your accomplishments.
It’s no surprise that The Odyssey founds the Western
Tradition, enough so that daring, visionary director Christopher Nolan insisted
on composing his own adaptation of the epic.
And he doesn’t disappoint.
That’s not to say that I don’t have criticisms. Even the
poem has detractors (“I get angry when good Homer nods off,” Roman satirist Horace
slyly pointed out), but Nolan provides a fresh retelling, albeit with some
dubious departures from the seminal text, somewhat like the protagonist of many
turns in the epic poem.
First, let’s dispense with the woke criticisms.
I was not one bit disappointed by Ellen “Elliot” Page’s part.
If an actor delivers a riveting performance, he—or she, and it matters that we
recognize the truth of the actor—deserves respect for a job well done. Page
gets it done.
Let’s not forget that female character actress Linda Hunt
played a male Vietnamese photographer in The Year of Living Dangerously, and
she won a well-deserved Supporting Actress Oscar.
Page, as minor character Sinon, plays a powerful role in the
whole work. The politics of her moral and biological confusion off-screen
didn’t matter to me.
(If Homer can detour, so can I -- For the record,
conservative readers, if you insist on basing all entertainment choices on the
moral standing of the artist, you will find life to be quite boring: Janice
Joplin featured in Rush Limbaugh’s daily radio programs, even though she was a
drug addicted and a single mother. His musical preferences never represented
his politics, nor should they have cast a condemning shadow. Elton John is a great musician, even if I
oppose his private life choices (and their public consequences). Leonard Di
Caprio and Robert De Niro are fine actors, even if I don’t care about climate
change or I find De Niro’s anti-Trump rants petty and pathetic.)
Now let’s talk about the African version of Helen of Troy. The
sleek black-skinned actress who played Helen of Troy AND her twin sister (not
too many spoilers, although everyone should know the Odyssey from middle school
or high school English, so there’s that) commanded every scene: tough, nimble, and
capable in her capturing the character she portrays. When you watch Black
Helen, there are no “Black Lives Matter” vibes shoved in your face. Helen of
Troy is beautiful, no matter her melanin count.
In fact, throughout the movie, Odysseus’ crew is composed of
men from all backgrounds. There are Southeast Asian, Indian, and even Hispanic
actors playing the parts. Guess what? I didn’t care. They played their parts
well, and once again—not once did I feel that Nolan was engaging in diversity
lottery-lecture scolding to score woke points with Hollywood.
Think about it, folks: we have seen black men play Hamlet,
white men play Othello, and women play the main characters in Twelve Angry Men
(they just tweak the title to Twelve Angry Jurors). We don’t need to get
hung up over skin color or ethnicity or sex when actors and directors are
telling (or retelling) excellent, fantastic stories. In fact, the superficial
diversity enhances the eternal dynamics of the legends! Works of art stand the
test of time, and they can be reproduced by men of any background!
Now, to the movie itself.
Nolan does not disappoint with his innovative filmmaking.
Instead of pallid statues of Pallas, and carved mosaics, ancient obsidian
pottery, or flat, clean classical storytelling, Nolan gives us a raw, earthy,
epic retelling.
He literally brings the many tales of the epic to life
before us.
The scene with the Cyclops Polyphemus is gruesome, chilling,
intense all rolled into one. When I read Homer’s passages in middle school,
then studied them in high school and college, the suspense, the danger, and the
intense drama never burst out to me. With Nolan’s direction and the superb
acting of Matt Damon as Odysseus, I endure the pain and terror of the misguided
Greek mariners. How would you feel, what
would you think, what would you do if you were trapped in a cave, about to be
beaten by a vile behemoth? The disgusting brute of a cyclops frightens and
enthralls viewers all at once. The incredible imagination of Nolan in his
depiction of this ravenous brute not only revives Homer’s epic, but I would add
that he brought life to the epic which centuries of academics and literary
critics have failed to restore.
Circe transforming Odysseus’ remaining crew into pigs; the
sacking of Troy—and the repeated flashbacks depicting destruction of the city
after ten years of military standoff; even the terrifying account of Odysseus’
skeleton crew avoiding Charybdis, only to witness in horror as Scylla scoops up
and devours six of his crew: all of it staggers our imagination, enhancing the
great work of Western literature.
Nolan’s most incredible re-adaptation occurs when Odysseus
travels to Hades to speak with the blind prophet Tiresias. This scene I will
not relate in detail in order to avoid spoiling the rich, dark, gothic clarity
of Nolan’s invigorating retelling. It is chilling, amazing, and overpowering
all at once, and provides the final scene for Ellen “Sinon” Page, which serves
as a unifying element of the story.
The imaginative realness that Nolan and team thrust into
this epic stands out in many forms. We behold only the imposing figure of
Menelaus in black armor and his curly hair. We marvel at the ingenious Trojan
Horse and the immense challenges of Odysseus and his men hiding in that equine
trap. Far from degrading or detracting from the source material, Nolan’s Odyssey
enhances the work—and makes you want to check it out for yourself.
The initial criticisms I had of the movie, the sense that it
took massive departures from the original text, I found to be incorrect on my
part. There were integral parts of the epic poem which students never cover in
school, but Nolan includes them—and accurately—including the touching sub-plot
of Prince Telemachus searching for his father, refusing to give him up or give
up on him.
And who can forget Anne Hathaway as the wise, cunning, and beautiful
wife Penelope in an Oscar-worthy portrayal? She invests her role with Hollywood
emotion as well as Ancient Greek pathos; we admire this strong woman for her
fidelity and courage, while also recognizing her inevitable frailty.
I disliked one considerable detour from the poem’s main
themes. Odysseus as written has a pride problem and gets humbled. Odysseus on
screen is wracked with guilt and struggles to overcome the trauma. That’s a
departure I would not have chosen, but my detraction should not discourage you
from watching it.
The Odyssey movie brings out the epic in the poem,
and you should see it (and you won’t nod off. Promise!)
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