By “A TIME OF APPARENT MAGIC”
Christopher Nolan’s alleged magnum opus, THE ODYSSEY, opens with a title card meant to set a distinct precedent. Yes, for the first time in his career, the DARK KNIGHT filmmaker embraces mystical elements within his source material. However, over the course of a deeply felt 173-minute runtime, it becomes apparent that his interest in Homer’s foundational epic lies elsewhere. Matt Damon’s Odysseus does not delight in tricking wicked beasts or conquering the elements. He is a traumatized war “hero” who pushes his despair inwards to summon the strength to reach Ithaca and reclaim his throne. The prospect of doing so is a futile attempt at inner peace. This lingering dread and guilt breeds a stoicism that overwhelms the piece, Nolan attempting to wrangle this massive epic by subduing its sense of wonder. We may face apparent magic, but we do not dare find awe in it. Make no mistake, this is still a technically impressive outing from one of our seminal blockbuster filmmakers; however, it also feels like the first time that Nolan has buckled under the weight of his ambition.
We cross-cut between two men whose legacies define the kingdom of Ithaca. Odysseus is a veteran of the Trojan War whose decade-long journey home is littered with terrors that claim the lives of his armada. We meet him in the throes of delirium brought on by the goddess Calypso (Charlize Theron), to whom he tells his story in an attempt to regain his autonomy. Meanwhile, his son, Telemachus (Tom Holland), faces a more earthly string of annoyances. His mother, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), has spent years being courted by greedy suitors led by the slimy Antinous (Robert Pattinson). Telemachus sets out on his own mini-journey to Sparta aiming to learn if his father has indeed gone to Hades. He encounters King Menelaus (Jon Bernthal) and Queen Helen (Lupita Nyong’o, also playing Helen’s sister Clytemnestra), who regale him with the trials Odysseus faced on the battlefield.
Nolan establishes an impeccable atmosphere. THE ODYSSEY is littered with top-tier bells and whistles that ring loudly. The nautical photography is mind-melting; we are trapped on tiny ships as the elements rock our weary travelers to the core. These men are not acting in portraying that suffering; Nolan is actually putting them through the ringer. Each stop along the way is vast, entire feature films feasibly able to play out within each chapter. The practical effects that bring trials like the Cyclops, the six-headed creature Scylla, and Circe’s (Samantha Morton) men-to-animal molding spells are eerie in how they twist reality just enough to be evocative: We are grappling with forces beyond our comprehension. The always-brilliant Ludwig Göransson delivers a score entirely different from TENET’s electronic metronome or OPPENHEIMER’S bombastic symphony. His use of old-world instruments is often quieter than the action, as though we are listening to a bard’s accompaniment. Whenever Nolan’s instincts for mounting visually-driven spectacle are manning the ship, THE ODYSSEY delivers the experience cinephiles have been dreaming of since its announcement.
We start running into trouble with the characters. Matt Damon seemed like an inspired choice for Odysseus. In an ideal world, he could’ve mixed the pathos of Russell Crowe in GLADIATOR with a bit of Will Hunting-esque hubristic humor. Instead, Nolan pigeonholes him into melancholic lulls. We’re constantly told how brilliant a strategist he is, and yet he mostly outwits his cosmic foes through dumb luck. In the poem, Odysseus and his men are constantly sobbing because of how overwhelmed and tired they are. Lip service is paid to that by first mate Eurylochus (Himesh Patel) but Nolan wouldn’t dare allow any of that transgressive vulnerability to bend the hyper-masculine cadence of this ODYSSEY. Damon is constantly hamstrung by that cowardice, and like the rest of the film, his performance leaves a lot on the table. In fact, Patel is often the one maintaining momentum in their scenes, acting as the audience surrogate for fear of what is to come.
Tom Holland is well cast as Telemachus, perfectly embodying the inadequacy that stems from an upbringing in the shadow of a great warrior. There’s no moment where his attempts at aggression truly land; he’s always a bit nervous, and that beautifully contrasts Damon’s Odysseus. The suitors are mostly portrayed as mustache-twirling villains. Robert Pattinson has a bit of fun chewing scenery as Antinous, who at times presents himself as a genuinely compelling option for Penelope’s hand. He’s a total coward who peacocks under the notion that he could have gone to Troy under different circumstances, but when even mildly tested, it is clear that he does not have any instincts for battle. The performance is amusing, but a far cry from career-best work from perhaps the most compelling movie star of his age. John Leguizamo does some unexpectedly textured character work as the blind farmhand Eumaeus, but never quite finds a standout scene. The only actor who truly gets to hit emotional highs is Anne Hathaway. Nolan is criticized for short-changing his female characters (as he also does in THE ODYSSEY), but Penelope is given a number of potent scenes that embody her resilience in the face of her parasitic circumstances. She is the only one allowed to express unabashed anguish and Hathaway makes a meal out of it. Her righteous anger easily garnered the most enthusiasm from my audience.
Then there’s the window dressing. Jon Bernthal does his usual growly routine as a glorified exposition dispenser. Despite playing multiple roles, I’d be surprised if Lupita Nyong’o’s screentime clocks in over two minutes. Helen is a scarred, cynical shell of a hard-won prize, while Clytemnestra’s righteous vengeance against the arrogant king Agamemnon (Benny Safdie, barely vocal and covered in a Darth Vader helmet) is only glimpsed. It speaks to the corrosive culture in which we live that her casting has inspired such racist fury from right-wingers. While her lack of weight within this story is true to the source, it still feels like a waste of the Oscar-winner’s time. The same goes for Elliot Page, saddled with one sequence in Hades to make an impression as the fallen soldier Sinon. As for the gods, Athena (Zendaya) is robbed of her shapeshifting trickery. She appears a few times to temperature-check Odysseus’ conscience, but has no meaningful bearing beyond that. Meanwhile, Theron’s Calypso is nothing short of total character assassination. Nolan shies away from her alluring sexuality and striking charisma. Instead, she’s just a woman in rags interviewing Odysseus. The only one of the supporting players who truly stands out is Samantha Morton as the deceptive witch Circe. She beckons Odysseus’ men into her home with food only to treat them to a truly disturbing bit of body horror that works in part because of the sheer contempt she brings to the table. Nolan and company have been touting her turn as a standout on the level of Heath Ledger’s Joker, and while she doesn’t quite reach those heights, her impact is felt in comparison to the lesser characters.
Like in OPPENHEIMER, Nolan wants us to grapple with the weight of violence on lives that are defined by it. Even so, he’s a bit sheepish with the gore despite the R rating. All of the hand-to-hand combat has an odd dinner theater feel. The men awkwardly dance with their weapons, occasionally hitting each other and falling over. Swords never really enter people’s bodies. This lack of viscera particularly weakens a third-act flashback to Troy (the third time we’ve broached this part of the story) that is meant to bring Odysseus’ inner pain to the surface as we finally hear the full story. As this heavy-handed monologue that stops the climax dead in its tracks drones on, we’re treated to glimpses of harsh carnage that just don’t make the intended impact. A message about the perils of bloodshed can only go so deep when the story’s ultimate solution relies on more of it. I suppose it doesn’t matter if we’re killing the right people: very British mentality.
It may sound like I lean more negative on THE ODYSSEY than positive. I do consider this to be one of Nolan’s weakest efforts, but in the span of a landmark career, that still amounts to a worthwhile adventure. It is constantly engrossing to watch a master of his craft stretch his filmmaking ethos this far to tackle this gargantuan text. He just doesn’t go far enough. This film is so desperate to feel weighty and epic that it misses the operatic emotions that similar tentpoles deliver. This will inevitably be compared to THE LORD OF THE RINGS, but it only really matches those classics in terms of how transparently difficult it was to make. It lacks whimsy in its pursuit of feeling sinister when it could’ve deftly embodied both. I am no expert on Greek myths, but I do understand that the dissonance of tones is what has made these rich stories generational. Nolan’s THE ODYSSEY may attract accolades and hype today, but I doubt that it will light the fire of future storytellers beyond the upcoming awards season. This is a film for those who already view Nolan as a legend of Odysseus’ caliber, but it reveals his limits more than any journey he’s embarked upon before.
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