“It was a time of apparent magic.”
As that line appears on the screen at the beginning of The Odyssey, you can expect a movie filled with epic adventures and outsized emotions, all conceived by writer-director Christopher Nolan–more precisely, Sir Christopher Nolan, who received his knighthood two years ago.
Working with his usual team of collaborators, including his producer-wife Dame Emma Thomas, Nolan pays tribute to, and offers a modern take on, Homer’s classic. In the process, he also expounds on many of his usual themes and expands the realm of cinematic technology. It’s a tall order, and it takes nearly three hours of screen time to realize.
Admittedly, it helps to know in advance many of the basic characters and situations in the story, which dates from around the thirteenth century BC (the events) and the eighth century BC (the Homeric chronicles). Nolan makes most of the relationships comprehensible (in his own non-linear way), but appreciating some of the backstories of these gods, goddesses, mortals and creatures makes the entire journey that much more engaging and impressive.
Odysseus, the legendary King of Ithaca (Matt Damon), has claimed victory in the Trojan War through brawn and guile, highlighted by the spectacular ruse of the Trojan Horse. In the aftermath of that success, he anguishes over what followed its use: the killing and the pillaging. He laments his violation of “Zeus’ Law,” a central tenet of Greek mythology that governs the conduct of hosts and guests alike. It regulates the interaction of gods and mortals, and it defines civilization, as Nolan has suggested. It also holds the prospect of karmic retribution for any violations. Odysseus finds himself consigned to twenty years of absence from his throne and fiercely devoted wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), because of his perceived transgressions, however well intentioned or precisely calibrated at the time.
In this reimagining of the epic poem, Nolan remains substantially faithful to the original characters and tableaux, while applying his own contemporary sensibilities. On his decade-long return home, he and his soldiers face the wrath of Zeus (King of the Gods) and Poseidon (God of the Sea and Storms). In the first half of the film, they encounter the terrifying Cyclops, a forest full of gargantuan warriors and the notoriously unreliable sirens, with a daunting whirlpool and a hydra-like monster still awaiting them. These various, episodic manifestations of Hades contrast with Odysseus as a grizzled, aged castaway in the care of the ethereal Calypso (Charlize Theron).
When the malevolent witch-goddess Circe (Samantha Morton) enters the picture, the very nature of the storytelling changes. Its language becomes more rhythmic; its themes, clearer; its emotions, deeper; and its characters, grander. The urtext melds with the grammar of cinema, Christopher Nolan-style.
While Odysseus and his dwindling forces struggle to find their way back, Penelope has her own tribulations, keeping a wealth of suitors (led by Robert Pattinson’s duplicitous Antinous) at bay, while offering a study in loyalty and love to her impetuous son and the king’s heir-apparent, Telemachus (Tom Holland).
Aided by his regular entourage of skilled artisans and technicians, Nolan constructs and paces his tale with great care. Shot entirely with IMAX cameras (specially updated to reduce their noise levels), the picture has a visual construct to match its narrative. Whether viewed in 70mm or IMAX, the imagery has remarkable clarity throughout the frame and an especially rich color palette in the outdoor scenes. As always, he minimizes digital enhancement and embraces practical effects. The “monstrous” scenes harken back to the legendary Ray Harryhausen (Jason and the Argonauts, Clash of the Titans), the American-British animation and special effects “auteur.”
Along with cinematographer Hoyte van Houtema (an Academy Award winner for Oppenheimer), composer Ludwig Goransson (an Oscar recipient for Black Panther, Oppenheimer and Sinners) delivers extraordinary work here. His original score, replete with both acoustic and electronic elements, is a consistently tantalizing soundtrack, wedded to an ancient story but crafted for contemporary ears.
The large ensemble cast excels, although a handful really stand out. Matt Damon has the screen presence and gravitas to successfully portray the director’s latest in a career-long line of tortured male leads. He follows in the footsteps of Kirk Douglas (Ulysses) and Sean Bean (Troy). Anne Hathaway (previously seen in Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises and Interstellar) is steely and unshakeable as Penelope. Tom Holland as Telemachus is appropriately earnest. Samantha Morton is chilling as Circe, indulging in her character’s favorite pastimes. Lupita Nyong’o is beautifully defiant in the dual roles of Helen of Troy and her half-sister, Clytemnestra. Elliot Page is a tragically naive Sinon.
Christopher Nolan has described The Odyssey, his thirteenth feature, as the summation of his career to date. Even as the title character in his last movie, Robert Oppenheimer, channeled his after-the-fact guilt into anti-nuclear activism, here Odysseus transforms himself into an anti-war activist while bent on revenge. It’s a filmmaker’s conceit; it’s also his prerogative as a creative artist.
The Odyssey takes an iconic work of literature, dissects and rearranges it, and packages it as a distinctive, thrilling entertainment for modern audiences. It finds its own poetry in love, bravery, deceit, violence, horror and (occasional) humor. In Tiresias’ words: “It is the journey itself that makes up your life.” The Odyssey is a journey well worth nearly three hours of yours.
