Christopher Nolan has never been afraid to go big. Correction. He’s never been afraid to go bigger and better when it comes to his stories. It’s as if “epic” was created with him in mind so, as his version of The Odyssey arrives, it’s a reminder that the original Greek word was used to describe a narrative poem set over a long period of time which often featured a legendary character on a monumental quest. Put simply, it’s the definition of his film, but this isn’t a case of simply bringing a classic legend to the IMAX screen. It’s just as relevant for today’s audiences as it was for those who first heard it back in the 8th century BC.
The opening moments show a poet reciting an epic, but his audience are a constant feature in the film. They’re the rabble who’ve taken over Odysseus’ palace in the island of Ithaca, believing that he’s dead and they all have one aim in mind – winning the hand of his wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway). In the twenty years since he’s been away at the Trojan Wars (which have ended a decade ago), they’ve stripped the island of its produce and wealth, but Penelope still resolutely holds them at bay.
Odysseus (Matt Damon) is, of course, alive and desperately trying to find his way home but, after the sacking of Troy, encounters all manner of obstacles, from monsters to mutiny among his soldiers and regular interference from the gods. Nolan takes a non-linear approach to his narrative, moving backwards and forwards in time with such skill that it all weaves together with remarkable ease.
It’s a film rammed with spectacle, from the merciless savagery of warfare, wind and waves to murderous giant warriors, a hideous Cyclops, whose single-eyed features look like the result of a gruesome injury and the notorious sirens, whose song we never hear but we’re left in no doubt about its effect.
But most memorable of all is the climax of the film, an event that actually happens at the start of the saga, and that’s the sacking of Troy itself after the city lets the wooden horse. It’s pure, murderous chaos, etched indelibly on Odysseus’ own memory and ours as well. In a story that questions the very nature of bravery and heroism, there is nothing heroic during what it essentially a massacre. And Nolan repeatedly takes us back to a single shot of his flawed hero as he watches the horror unfolding in front of him. You can almost see the scales fall from his eyes as he understands not only what he’s done, but the consequences. It’s breath-taking filmmaking.
The cast is stacked with wall-to-wall names, as you’d expect from Nolan. Such an impressive line-up runs the risk of being distracting but, in the main, the actors are so well chosen that it’s never an issue. Damon is impressively conflicted as he comes to term with the results of his arrogance, while Hathaway is on fine form as the shrewd Penelope who won’t give in to the clamour from her suitors. Tom Holland as their son, Telemachus, really stands out as he turns into more of his father’s son than he first appears.
There’s some unexpected pieces of casting – Jon Bernthal especially, as a thuggish Menelaus, who kidnapped Helen Of Troy and treats her as his personal property. But if there’s a performance on another level entirely, it belongs to Samantha Morton, as the disturbed and disturbing Circe. A seemingly hospitable, solitary woman, she’s the driving force of a single scene which is best described as strong meat – and is enough to turn you vegan.
There’s so much packed into The Odyssey that one viewing simply isn’t enough. The photography, a score full of surprises from Ludwig Goransson, ideas and themes that stick in your mind for hours afterwards ….. the list goes on. But, however many times you see it, one thing remains constant. The hero on the screen is no different to those of us watching him. Complicated and full of contradictions, he is simply a human being.
