FILM REVIEW: Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey

Epic and Satisfying

Christopher Nolan’s filmography can be summed up by how one feels when leaving the theater. Inception: “What?” Interstellar: “LOUD WOW.” Tenet: “That hurt?” Oppenheimer: “Best Picture.” Adding The Odyssey to this mix: “What. A. Journey.” That is exactly what the marketing promised — and it delivers.

Based on the 3,000+ year-old poem, epic stories like this carry a real weight of expectation. In this case, we expect a Cyclops, some Sirens, and trickery from the gods. Nolan delivers on those expectations, using grounded storytelling that never trips over itself in the retelling. This is a story passed down by generations through word-of-mouth. Everything is overt, much like Nolan’s storytelling tendencies. That works in harmony with a story about politics, heroics, and human flaws, set against the backdrop of war’s aftermath.

Nolan has decided to tell a human story, and it freaking works.

Matt Damon…er, Odysseus needs to come home.

Waiting at Ithaca, where the film begins, are his wife Penelope (Anne Hathaway) and son Telemachus (Tom Holland). It has been years since Odysseus promised to get back. Tensions start to boils over as suitors for Penelope get anxious in their plans to take the throne. Telemachus’ belief in his father’s return is diminishing quickly, while Penelope’s remains steadfast. Telemachus needs answers, so he travels to speak with Menelaus (Jon Bernthal) on the probability of his father still being alive.

Meanwhile, Odysseus is wandering around on a beach with Calypso (Charlize Theron). She’s finally earned enough of his trust for him to start describing what happened between Troy and washing up on her shore. The film treats each piece of the story in episodic fashion. Escaping a Cyclops, facing man-eaters, then Hades, and into more of the typical antics from the gods are all that face Odysseus and his men. The interweaving narrative comes from the human decisions Odysseus and his men make along the way.

Upon his re-telling of his adventures, Odysseus realizes some truths of his time away at sea and is ready to complete his journey. His arrival back in Ithaca propels one of the strongest parts of the film and grounds the whole film in something profound. This is a man with a better understanding of the world, and he acts accordingly.

Money!

There was money to be spent on this production, and it was spent. Nolan has such specific visions for his stories, and works so well with his department heads that every single moment feels premium. The trick is keeping the production from overcooking the story it’s telling. As stated before, this is a story about a human. The money shows up at the right places.

The first highlight is the Trojan Horse. Much like the spinning top in Inception, the tattoos in Memento, and the clocks in Interstellar, the Trojan Horse acts as both heroic totem and then eventually something else at the end of the film. It literally contains humanity, while being unflinching in its brutality and providing victory to those who built and inhabited it.

Ruth De Jong, who also worked with Nolan on Oppenheimer, has designed a world both lived in and mystical. We feel like we have been in these lands without having step foot in them.

What ends up being the crowning achievement of the film is the casting. John Papsidera has assembled a who’s-who of talent, all clearly aware of exactly what film they’re part of. The best stories have the best supporting characters, and this story has a plethora of them.

Samantha Morton as Circe devours every scene she is in. Robert Pattinson is delicious as the conniving Antinous, vying to be Penelope’s next great “love”. Tom Holland starts off childish, but grows into a capable Telemachus. Zendaya is affecting as the traveling god of war alongside Odysseus, her true purpose being revealed quite emotionally towards the end.

The most shrewd casting choice was Matt Damon. I do not think this is his best role, but I do think he was best for this one. We always cheer on Matt Damon. That established connection with the audience lets us buy into his journey across all those years. He provides everything, and everyone else is so capable of picking up what he is giving.

Again! Again!

Just like the poem it’s based on, The Odyssey is built to be enjoyed for a long, long time. It’s tempting to slot this into the ranking with Nolan’s other films, but that’s not really a fair fight yet — Inception, Interstellar, Dunkirk, Oppenheimer have all had years to sit with us, to get picked apart and revisited and argued about at dinner tables. This one hasn’t had that runway. And yet the more I sit with it, the more I want to go back — again, and probably again after that. Isn’t that exactly what a movie is supposed to do?