For all of its absorbing imagery and thunderous music – of which it has plenty of both – The Odyssey is fundamentally about how humanity is capable of both great feats and terrible deeds, as well as our unsettling habit of confusing the two.
Christopher Nolan’s newest film isn’t the first to translate Homer’s ancient poem The Odyssey to the audiovisual medium, but it may well be the best. A vast, sprawling epic whose deeper musings are as thought-provoking as its setpieces are breathtaking, it gets under your skin slowly but surely. Like Nolan’s previous feature, the Best Picture-winning Oppenheimer, this is a film that recognises man’s capacity for both great evil and destabilising guilt, gleaning awe and immersion from the emotions behind its grand imagery. It’s as jaw-dropping as it is ambitious.
Homer’s writings have inspired millennia of stories and idioms from the hero’s return trope to the Trojan horse cautionary warning. Its roots are so firmly entrenched within the forest of literature that one can be forgiven for associating its plot beats with other titles. The Greek island of Ithaca has been without its king, Odysseus (Matt Damon), for 20 years. Odysseus left to fight the Trojan War, serving as a legendary general in the Achaean army. But the war ended 10 years ago, and Odysseus has not been seen or heard from since.
THE ODYSSEY, written, produced, and directed by Christopher Nolan.
Some of Nolan’s signature traits and themes reveal themselves as early as this setup. The production and costume design recreations of the Ancient Greek time period – even though this is historical fiction – are immaculate. The attention to detail and space undertaken by the art and costume departments provide stunning backdrops to the immersive imagery. Dark, moody lighting generates an air of disquiet in contrast to the sweeping scope and cinematography of its exterior, on-location shoots. Even in the time it was written (2700 BC), The Odyssey was seen as an epic. Nolan’s blockbuster tendencies as a writer and director ensure that the story’s urgency and deep emotional strife are always omnipresent on the screen.
In Odysseus’s absence, opportunistic suitors line up to offer themselves as a spouse for his apparent widow, Penelope (a spellbinding Anne Hathaway). Chief among them is the conniving and entitled Antinous (Robert Pattinson). Disturbed by what may fall upon Ithaca if Penelope remarries, Odysseus’s son Telemachus (Tom Holland) sets out to discover what became of his father. In his quest to bring his father home, Odysseus’s escapades during the war are recounted, spotlighting timely observations on war, honour and redemption in this ancient text.
Homer’s original text was essentially multiple stories in one (Odysseus’s journey home, the turmoil on Ithaca, and Telemachus’ growth from boy to man, to name a few). Nolan has frequently played with time in his films, both stylistically in Memento and scientifically in Interstellar. In doing so again here, Nolan and team make this epic tale compact while deconstructing the mythology behind Odysseus that the others have built up – revealing harrowing darkness behind his actions that Odysseus himself increasingly struggles to live with. Odysseus is the hero of the story, but he’s a man grappling with enormous guilt, born from the very events that made him legendary. Damon crafts the overwhelming remorse that forms his role’s arc with astute vigour – the ultimate gutpunch coming from a twist involving his scenes with the Goddess Athena (Zendaya).
Robert Pattinson is Antinous in THE ODYSSEY, written, produced, and directed by Christopher Nolan.
For all of its absorbing imagery and thunderous music – of which it has plenty of both – The Odyssey is fundamentally about how humanity is capable of both great feats and terrible deeds, as well as our unsettling habit of confusing the two. Whether it’s Odysseus going to war or Antinous using underhanded tactics, many characters believe their cause is the righteous one. Nolan and team are not interested in lionising causes or determining whose side is morally correct. Rather, they explore the terrible human cost of such arrogance. The picture’s lustrous spectacle and thrilling action are all the more hair-raising because such an intimate story of human fragility and hubris forms its foundation. The Trojan Horse becomes not so much a symbol of humanity’s ingenuity, but one of humanity’s violence. Odysseus’s journey home is not about claiming his birthright but abandoning his pride.
The unravelling of supposed greatness gives way to deeply engrossing setpieces, all of which are anchored by a spectrum of remarkable performances from the ensemble cast. Damon and especially Hathaway bridge much of the story together, with Hathaway’s grief and tenacity being enough to rival a storm. John Leguizamo is a frequently underestimated talent (see the brilliant Bob Trevino Likes It), but his portrayal of unwavering faith and belief in decency makes his character, the servant Eumases, one of the film’s most memorable players. Key scenes involving a subordinate feeling betrayed, and a civilian who takes retaliatory action before others can set upon them create two of the most visceral and impressionable performances from Elliot Page and Samantha Morton, respectively. Their fury and vulnerability in the face of one’s delusions of grandeur are, in many ways, the very soul of the film.
The Odyssey utilises CGI, but it relies on practical effects and technical craft as much as possible, creating a refreshing sense of authenticity to its filmmaking. Among its cacophony of nail-biting sequences is a terrifying ordeal in a cave involving a cyclops. Not only is the humongous puppetry reminiscent of Jason and the Argonauts in its execution, but the editing, direction, and lighting also maximise discomfort and anxiety. Nolan would be an excellent horror filmmaker with the right material, and this chilling sense of mortality seeps into every plot point and action scene, amplifying their suspense and immersive opulence.
At times, the craft can be sensory overload. Christopher Nolan and team are adapting dense source material, and thus it can take a hot minute to adjust to their non-linear storytelling. The editing can be overbearing with its rapid shot reverse shot cutting during conversational scenes, and the sound mixing can be eruptive to a fault. However, prior Nolan films have often rewarded those who return for repeat viewings. I recall being lukewarm on Interstellar initially, but a few re-watches later it’s now one of my favourites from Nolan’s filmography. I suspect The Odyssey will comfortably fit into that pattern whether you’re watching in IMAX, 70mm or otherwise.
The Odyssey is rapturous, spellbinding entertainment – an epic cinematic experience to match its enduring source material. Gorgeously photographed and dexterously structured, its titanic performances and set pieces are matched only by its rich, timeless themes about the human cost of hubris and self-righteousness. Whether it’s Nolan’s greatest film is up for debate, but it’s in the top five for sure, a remarkable observation when one considers his other titles (The Dark Knight, Inception, Oppenheimer, etc). Gripping, masterfully crafted and utterly hypnotic, The Odyssey is a sublime achievement that gets better the more you dwell on it, both as an adaptation and as a commentary on our modern times.
The Odyssey is now playing in cinemas nationwide.
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