The Odyssey Review

The Odyssey opens in theaters on July 17.

“Couldn’t you have shown some mercy?”

That line is the crux of Christopher Nolan’s much-anticipated adaptation of The Odyssey, a film that is truly huge in scope while also at times emotionally acute. Using Homer’s foundational epic poem as a lens through which to offer a surprisingly modern lesson about war, PTSD, and the very question of why we still have to deal with those things almost 3,000 years since The Odyssey first came into existence, Nolan’s opus is resonant and often bold. Unfortunately, it also occasionally misses a step in its storytelling, and frequently feels rushed despite its nearly three-hour running time. The result is a must-see if sometimes frustrating film that is marked with moments of brilliance.

Anyone who bothered to read at least the first few chapters of The Odyssey in 10th grade English class should know the story, but a quick refresher: Matt Damon stars as Odysseus, the king/warrior/husband/father who has been missing from his home island of Ithaca for some 20 years, flung across the realm of ancient, mythological Greece after being summoned by the king of the Achaean kings, Agamemnon (Benny Safdie). Told in nonchronological fashion (hey, this is Nolan after all, but also hey, Homer did it first), Odysseus’ wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), and their now-on-the-verge-of-manhood son, Telemachus (Tom Holland), suffer back at home, wondering if their king will ever return, even while the greedy and very un-cool suitors, led by Robert Pattinson’s Antinous, run roughshod over Odysseus’ home, vying for his wealth – and his wife.

It’s a story that has been told on film before, if never very successfully (2024's The Return, starring Ralph Fiennes, is great, but it only depicts the last act of Homer's work). And Nolan, perhaps inevitably, makes tweaks to the original poem that might bug Homer enthusiasts, changing bits here, compressing story threads there, adding in elements from other Greek mythology works, and even occasionally removing some of the most iconic moments from the original (don’t hold your breath if you’re waiting for Odysseus to pull his “I am Nobody” trick on the Cyclops here). That said, there is no way to translate all of The Odyssey into a feature film without nipping and tucking and (in the spirit of the work) dismembering some elements. And besides, the folks who never made it past Chapter 3 in high school are not gonna notice anyway.

Among the most thrilling aspects of Nolan’s film are the horror elements that he brings to the highly episodic escapades of Odysseus and his men as they struggle to find their way back home after the Trojan War, only to fall on bad luck time and again. For example, the run-in with the aforementioned Cyclops (achieved via visual effect but the performance of which was “guided” by the great Bill Irwin) removes much of the dialogue between the one-eyed monster and Odysseus from the book, but in its place the director inserts a sort of existential dread as the thing goes about its day-to-day business of waking up, herding sheep, eating Odysseus’ men, and going to sleep, before doing it all over again the next day. The beast’s grotesque design and otherworldly sound design add to the creep factor, but the Cyclops also seems to exist on a sort of higher level than mere man, barely aware of the crew’s presence when not chomping on them. As Damon’s Odysseus notes, we don’t try to talk to ants, so why should this beast try to talk to us?

A trip to the Underworld is spectacularly realized, as Odysseus encounters, among others, the men who have died under his command. “I died for your lies,” says the Shade of Elliot Page’s Sinon (the actor is not playing Achilles here, despite fan speculation). And therein lies the rub for Odysseus, for how many have died because of his machinations over the past 20 years?

Another memorable/horrific moment comes when Samantha Morton’s witch Circe transforms Odysseus’ men into pigs, morphing them and sculpting them with her bare hands Rick Baker-style, but only after a gross-out meal of magic stew sets the stage. That Circe winds up coming across as sort of justified in her actions just serves to underline the film’s thematic examination of what war does to man… or is it more a question of why man does war?

But that’s also one of the problems at the core of Nolan’s The Odyssey, despite its strokes of beauty, ugliness, and ingenuity in re-telling Homer’s story. Damon plays the hero as a conflicted warrior whose invention, the Trojan Horse, won the war for Agamemnon. But to what end? After the war, the character is set adrift emotionally as much as he is literally lost at sea.

The issue with this notion, however, is that Odysseus arrives at this state of mind early in his story chronologically, and yet we see him continue to make the same kind of mistakes time and again that landed him there in the first place, as if he hasn’t learned his lesson despite his revelation. Additionally, while Damon is perfectly serviceable as Odysseus, he’s also lacking the mischievous, trickster edge which is inherent in the classic take on the character. In Greek mythology, Odysseus basically pulled a Klinger from M*A*S*H, trying to get out of having to go to war by acting like he was insane. But in the film, he dutifully and nobly heeds the call of Agamemnon. (Interestingly, it’s Pattinson’s Antinous who’s the draft dodger here.)

Speaking of which, the Batman actor does what he can with what is basically the main villain role, but the suitors are essentially just depicted as bad guys doing bad things. The nuance that some interpretations of The Odyssey have brought to the suitors – the idea, for example, that Odysseus drafted their fathers, grandfathers, and older brothers to go off and all die in the war, only for the king to be the sole survivor to return home – is not really explored by Nolan, unfortunately.

As for Tom Holland’s Telemachus, this is another character who can be frustrating to watch (or read), since he’s frustrated as well by his inability to act against the villains who have overtaken his home. Holland doesn’t quite find a way around this dilemma, and even when the cathartic final battle with the suitors arrives – those guys are so screwed – Telemachus doesn’t get much to do. Hathaway, however, is perfect as the long-suffering Penelope, working her loom and waiting for a husband who may never return, and who she may not even recognize if and when he does. Her scenes with Damon shine, including pre-war flashbacks invented by Nolan, and when she confronts the interlopers in her home, she can be vicious.

This being a Chris Nolan movie, the cast is chockablock with stars and highly recognizable faces, even if most of them don’t get a ton to do. Jon Bernthal does his Jon Bernthal thing as Menelaus, but Lupita Nyong'o, in her brief scenes as Helen of Troy, adds texture to the enigmatic character in a way that hasn’t often been done. (The actress also plays Helen’s twin sister Clytemnestra, wife to Agamemnon.) The face of Benny Safdie’s Agamemnon is never fully seen, but his looming presence is always feared, even by his own men. Himesh Patel gets a bit of depth as Odysseus’ questioning lieutenant, Eurylochus, while Mia Goth’s handmaiden to Penelope, Melantho, is memorably Mia-Gothian for what little time we see her. And O my swineherd! John Leguizamo is funny and touching as Eumaeus, Odysseus’ loyal servant (and caretaker of the best old dog in literature, Argos).

There’s also the matter of the gods, who are frequently invoked here but not seen the way they are in Homer. Charlize Theron’s Calypso is a nymph in the myth, but could just as easily be interpreted in the film as a less scary Annie Wilkes who just wants to keep Odysseus for herself. Zendaya’s Athena pops up at key moments, typically when Odysseus is at his most introspective, but she doesn’t pull any of the tricks that she does in the book, and how Nolan chooses to ultimately depict the character is one of the film’s best conceits, as the question of what a god – or the God – actually is, and how such a concept would inform a character like Odysseus’ journey, is central to the film.

What must also be acknowledged with The Odyssey is how skillfully Nolan has taken the many preposterous elements of the book (and please be aware that I say this as someone who absolutely loves Homer) – pig-men, giant cannibals, living whirlpools, more giants – and makes them at best terrifying, and at least interesting and believable. The much ballyhooed IMAX 70 mm production was no small feat to pull off, and moments like Damon’s hero helplessly watching his ship get torn apart around him during a vicious storm are as visceral as a filmgoing experience can get.

But that doesn’t mean that everything in the film works. One recurring idea, about “Zeus’ law” of hospitality receding while mysterious invaders from the sea are apparently slowly eroding civilization itself, just doesn’t ring true. It’s a hook Nolan attempts to hang The Odyssey on, but like Odysseus’ arc itself, it gets lost in the tide of the film’s spectacle.