“The Odyssey” has been stirring controversy since news first broke that Christopher Nolan was going to adapt it. From Elon Musk ignorantly criticizing Nolan’s casting of Lupita Nyong’o as Helen of Troy to the ridiculous and baseless outrage at Elliot Page supposedly playing Achilles (he’s not), “The Odyssey” was a polarizing film from its inception.
In those instances of misogynoir and transphobia, the appeal to historical accuracy was often used to justify the hateful rhetoric hurled at the actors. But the insistence on so-called historical accuracy is only an excuse for weak-minded individuals to continue to marginalize Black and queer, non-cis people.
Many of those eager to criticize the casting likely haven’t formed any kind of relationship with the original text. I say this not to shame anyone who hasn’t read “The Odyssey,” but to reveal the curious nature of the discourse—not only would detractors have no personal stakes in a “historically accurate” adaptation of “The Odyssey,” but they wouldn’t even know what that would look like. Classicists themselves, who have studied Ancient Greek literature and history for years, do not even agree on what such a thing would entail.
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That’s why I’m beginning this review with a disclosure: While I have my reservations about Nolan’s adaptation, I am always enthusiastic about renditions of “The Odyssey.” Or any ancient text, for that matter. Anything that has the potential to enrich people’s appreciation of classic literature is something I will always be excited about—and part of the excitement, part of the joy, is thoughtful criticism.
I’m here to celebrate the feat of adapting a text like this one, and the fact that Nolan won’t be the last to do it.
Warning: spoilers ahead.
What is “The Odyssey” about?
Following the end of the 10-year war between the Trojans and the Greeks, Odysseus and his men make their way back to Ithaca. As other kings and comrades arrive safely home, Odysseus and his crew get lost at sea.
It takes 10 more years for Odysseus to travel to his homeland, facing terrifying monsters and tremendous loss. All the while, his wife and son are awaiting his return, fearing that he has died, and fending off vicious suitors hungry to take his place.
Major differences between Homer’s poem and Nolan’s adaptation
This is not going to be an exhaustive rundown of the liberties Nolan took with the source material, but as someone who fell in love with “The Odyssey” in high school and recently read Emily Wilson’s translation of the text, these are the differences that I found most consequential to audiences’ interpretations of who Odysseus is.
In the film, Odysseus is portrayed as the flawed leader he is in the poem, but the specific characteristics of his shortcomings may not be as evident on screen as it is on the page. By the same token, while the film offers glimpses of what makes Odysseus an interesting character by way of his virtues, it also fails to render some of the most meaningful insights of his trials.
For example, Odysseus is known as the smartest of men. He is the great trickster, the city-sacker, the mastermind behind the Trojan horse. So why, upon finding himself stranded on Calypso’s island, would he ever surrender the sharpness of his intellect to the lotus flower?
In the poem, the lotus flower—the drug that induces the loss of memory and identity in whoever consumes it—doesn’t appear on Calypso’s island as it does in the movie, but on a separate island prior to his encounter with the Cyclops Polyphemus. Unlike in the movie, Odysseus is the one who has to drag his men away from the illusory bliss of the lotus flower and urge some sense into them; he himself was never addicted to it.
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This is deeply significant because Homer makes it clear that despite his flaws—his arrogance and his failure to confide in his men—Odysseus would never lose his wits. Being trapped on Calypso’s island for seven years is such a rich moment for his character because his mind doesn’t waver. Even in going to bed with the goddess Calypso, he never stops thinking of Ithaca, his son Telemachus, and his wife Penelope. Every day on that island, he weeps.
The film misses this altogether. Instead, having him forget that he has a family to return to and men whom he’d lost. Odysseus’ eventual escape from the island is so pivotal to the story because he doesn’t escape from his tricks; he escapes by the mercy of the gods, forced to confront a helplessness he had never experienced before.
The glaring absences of Odysseus’ parents, and beloved Elpenor
Elpenor’s death is another pivotal moment in the poem because he dies in such a sudden, ordinary way. Elpenor is the youngest of Odysseus’ men, who dies on Circe’s island when he drunkenly falls from a roof and breaks his neck.
There is something so arresting about the manner of his death—while the rest of his comrades died suffering, Elpenor dies at the prospect of heading home, so excited was he by the commotion of his friends that he rushed from the roof, forgetting to use the ladder.
It is when Odysseus visits the Underworld that he sees the young Elpenor again, begging Odysseus to return to Circe’s island to give him a proper burial before continuing the rest of his journey. Odysseus pities him and agrees. This becomes a significant moment, as Odysseus mourns not just his collective men, but this poor, individual soul.
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In the Underworld, he also encounters his mother who died waiting for his return. She was so struck with grief that her heart couldn’t take it. In the anguish of seeing his mother, Odysseus reaches for her and tries three times to hold her, but realizes she is no longer in the flesh.
In the film, she never appears on screen and isn’t even mentioned at all. Laertes, Odysseus’ father, is also hardly present and plays a significantly smaller role in Odysseus’ return to Ithaca. This alters the narrative because it abates the agony and urgency of Odysseus’ long journey home.
On screen, he has to return to his wife and now-adult son. But in the poem, Homer doesn’t let us forget that he, too, is still a son. And that he must desperately return to his aging father before it’s too late.
What makes the movie worth watching?
First of all, the film is a historical first—it is the first film to be shot entirely with IMAX cameras, creating an all-encompassing visual experience for its audiences. I was lucky enough to catch the Philippine premiere with my mother, and it was not only incredible to see something of this scale come to life, but to witness the reaction of someone who didn’t necessarily share my expectations or have equal exposure to the text.
In fact, she was so captivated by Odysseus’ journey and the world of the Ancient Greeks that she went home and spent the night immersed in her own research and discoveries.
While Nolan’s interpretation of Odysseus and his psychology may differ from mine, it was interesting in its own right. Nolan offers the interpretation that Odysseus, subconsciously, did not want to come home—that the journey took 10 years because he needed the time to reckon with the consequences of his actions and his role in the Trojan War.
There are so many things I find absurd about his interpretation, but for a filmmaker whose body of work largely explores time and what it means to belong to a specific temporal coordinate, Nolan’s exploration of Odysseus’ homecoming bursts the door open for deep and meaningful discussion.
