Christopher Nolan’s ‘The Odyssey’ Recharges Homer’s Epic Poem on the Grandest Scale Imaginable

Alci Rengifo

Before discussing the Bronze Age, Greek mythology, and Homer, what first deserves attention is the sheer scale of Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey.” How the famous director tackles one of the great poems of antiquity almost becomes an afterthought when experiencing this mammoth production on IMAX. It is the first feature film entirely shot in the massive format, providing a sense of immersion and clarity with much awe. No surprise that Nolan chooses this tale from which so many storytelling traditions sprout from, to break new technical ground in the most popular form of storytelling of the last hundred years. A few curious choices in wardrobe and some quirky attempts at modernizing the language can be forgiven as they become overwhelmed by a ferocious entertainment. Then there is the appreciation for an epic summer release of this kind, so glaringly different to the flood of franchise overkill we’re usually fed.

Though the distant past is not a typical Nolan subject, his obsession with time and puzzles actually connects well with the structure of Homer’s “Odyssey.” Like the poem, the film opens with the main plot already in motion. In a fire-lit hall a bard (rapper Travis Scott pulling off the cadence well) recites lines about the Trojan War before being silenced by a tired Penelope (Anne Hathaway), the wife of Ithaca’s king Odysseus (Matt Damon), who left nearly twenty years ago to fight in Troy for another king, Agamemnon (Benny Safdie). Rumors swirl that Odysseus must surely be dead, and so his palace is now overrun by suitors determined to marry Penelope and take over. Among them is the cunning Antinous (Robert Pattinson). The situation is also angering Penelope and Odysseus’ son, Telemachus (Tom Holland), who was an infant when his father left. Odysseus is indeed alive, but stranded on an island with the nymph Calypso (Charlize Theron), who has kept him sedated with lotus flowers while attempting to open his memories. He begins to recall the sacking of Troy after the Greek troops managed to enter hidden in a giant wooden horse. After the slaughter, Odysseus and his men attempted to sail home before being thrown off course after a bloody encounter with a cyclops, Polyphemus (Bill Irwin) who turned out to be a son of the god Poseidon. 

Christopher Nolan is one of the few working directors with enough of a devoted following where his name alone can draw in a crowd. What truly remains admirable is how he uses his prestige to go further in the pursuit of his passion projects. After winning the Best Picture and Director Oscars for 2023’s “Oppenheimer,” a gripping biopic of the father of the atomic bomb, Nolan could have slowed down. He chooses instead this risky gesture, reimaging Homer’s poem as a grandiose, cinematic canvas of mythology made gritty. It is not a work as tight and focused as “Oppenheimer.” Some of his flourishes are quite quirky. Reportedly working from the acclaimed and accessible translation by Emily Wilson, Nolan’s screenplay is determined to make the dialogue contemporary enough for a modern audience. His aim is not to impress any classicists in the theater. At times some of his word choices are funny, like Telemachus talking about his “dad” returning or Odysseus reflecting on how “our Bronze Age is ending” (the real man, if he ever existed, would not have been aware he was walking around the Bronze Age). When one of the cruelest of the suitors, Polybus (Corey Hawkins in an excellent performance), tells a beggar to “fuck off,” it somewhat works. Nolan’s penchant for dreamlike imagery can work to great effect, and to odd effect as well as with his decision to have Agamemnon dressed in an absurdly large armor that looks more suitable for science fiction.

These qualms aside, “The Odyssey” is an impressive piece of work, maneuvering over the many layers of the original text. Nolan’s technique is to remain within the basic parameters of the story while avoiding its extra detours. When it comes to the fantastical elements, Nolan returns to the technique that made his Batman films so unique at the time. Instead of depending on endless streams of CGI and eye-popping effects, the film ponders how these mythical elements could exist as literal realities. This gives certain moments a wonderfully unnerving quality, like the encounter with the cyclops Polyphemus, framed like Goya’s “Saturn Devouring His Son” when eating one of Odysseus’ men. Instead of the mocking giant of other productions, he is a silent menace out of a nightmare. Odysseus’ blinding of Polyphemus to escape, followed by extra pain he inflicts on the beast, is what truly seals his fate when the others point out this was a son of Poseidon. Now the raging seas and winds will truly blow the soldiers off course, setting the stage for other classic adventures evoked through Nolan’s particular eye. A sense of belief becomes potent in how Zeus and Poseidon are invisible presences only to be seen in thunder and crashing waves. Athena (Zendaya) is the one inhabitant of Olympus who, as in the poem, appears to Odysseus as a sage and conscience. When Odysseus must journey to Hades, what he finds is an eerie land of dark, burning earth from which spirits emerge like a silent chorus in black, Tiresias (James Remar), prophet of the underworld, looks like one of the witches out of Roman Polanski’s “Macbeth.” The section involving the witch goddess Circe (Samantha Morton), where she transforms our hero’s remaining troops into animals, verges on fantasy horror.

All these elements are brought to vivid life by the rich cinematography by regular Nolan collaborator Hoyte van Hoytema, who doesn’t feel the need to overstuff the IMAX format but uses it properly to let the wide images breathe. The music by Ludwig Göransson, hyped for its use of period instruments, still combines synth flourishes for a pounding (at times slightly overdone) effect that can be absorbing. A particularly fun touch is timing certain sections of the score to the pluck of Odysseus’ bow. Nolan cast rolls have also become famously stacked, mostly with actors the filmmaker has come to rely on over the years, particularly Matt Damon and Anne Hathaway. As in “Oppenheimer,” the parade of names does not become a distraction, because everyone is given roles of varying, balanced degrees. Benny Safdie disappears behind as bloated armor, turning Agamemnon into more of a tragic memory than a central player. Elliot Page has just a few moments as Sinon, a Greek soldier who meets a tragic fate to ensure the Trojan Horse makes it into the besieged city, though his character has wider implications for Odysseus’s story. John Leguizamo is endearing as Eumaeus, Odysseus’ faithful blind servant. More than any other Nolan film, “The Odyssey” also stirred controversy, mostly among regressive right-wing types, over the casting of Black actors in specific roles, such as Lupita Nyong’o as Helen of Troy, the face that launched those thousand ships to war after running away from Sparta with Paris. Like Shakespeare, Homer (or the various bards who composed these stories through an oral tradition) is part of world culture and these stories are open to interpretation from everyone. When Telemachus visits Menelaus (Jon Bernthal) and the latter essentially mocks Helen, his wife, during a feast, all we can think about is the base rages behind conflict.

Such ideas run through the subtext of this massive film, giving added depth to the imagery. Nolan takes from “The Odyssey,” as well as other works like “The Aeneid” and “The Iliad.” It is sweeping to see chamber doors open and Penelope emerge to confront the piggish suitors, holding Odysseus’ bow with a challenge, but Nolan’s aim is to express broader ideas about war. Odysseus is a haunted man not only from becoming marooned, but from knowing he has spilled blood, sacrificed his own men and been part of terrible deeds. We see the Trojans haul the massive horse towards the city, while inside the Greeks swelter in their own shit and vomit. Then there are the brutes invading his home, sniffing around Penelope. The most boastful, Antinous, is venomous and also the classic coward who cheers on bloodshed from afar but would never have the courage to go fight. Has Nolan been reading Simone Weil’s “The Iliad, Or, The Poem of Force,” where she uses the Trojan War to make sense of war as part of the human condition? The sacking of Troy in this film is not heroic but woeful as soldiers slaughter anyone, including women and children, with a final revelation about an act that truly curses Odysseus. 

Nolan thus makes this story quite accessible for a general audience. No one has yet topped the evocative, rich adaptations of “Electra,” “The Trojan Women” and “Iphigenia” by the great Michael Cacoyannis, but those films are not designed for popcorn multiplexes. If you miss glittering effects, then revisit the wonderful 1997 “The Odyssey” starring Armand Assante, where Hermes has winged sandals and Athena a golden glow. In his own style, Nolan has made an involving, grand take on this most enduring of works, giving it a rugged feel with a narrative style that is immediate. Just maybe, some in the audience will be inspired to then go out and pick up Emily Wilson’s translation of “The Odyssey,” making the experience that much more enriching. This is a spectacle worth the entry price.

“The Odyssey” releases July 17 in theaters nationwide.