I love how I see a post of matt Damon and Ben Affleck and all the comments are 'which could mean nothing'
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I love how I see a post of matt Damon and Ben Affleck and all the comments are 'which could mean nothing'
I write a destiel fic but I just cast them in all of matt damon and ben afflecks “which could mean nothing” life
NOTE: This write-up is based on my viewing of The Odyssey in its IMAX 70mm print. With thanks to the projectionists at the Regal Irvine Spectrum in Irvine, California.
The Odyssey (2026)
Over the last two decades, the most successful movies in Western cinema have been part of a tentpole franchise. Largely gone are the days where a single actor or actress or director could drive audiences to take the time to travel to a theater on their names alone. As of the mid-2020s, Christopher Nolan might be the only director in Hollywood who can lure viewers to a cinema solely due to his name. Ever since The Dark Knight (2008), Nolan – following audience preferences – has become a maximalist filmmaker: enormous spectacle, broadbrush ideas, cacophony. And that is what he brings to The Odyssey.
Any adaptation of Homer’s Odyssey cannot be a small-scale film. One of the oldest extant pieces of literature, Homer’s epic poem has withstood for centuries. Analysis, interpretations, and translations are easy to find. This will largely not be a write-up on whether Nolan (who also wrote the screenplay) stayed faithful to Homer, but how his filmmaking supports his personal interpretation of the poem. Having last read an adaptation of it in middle school twenty years ago, I do not feel qualified to comment in detail on how this film works as an adaptation – I will let classicists fight those fights.
Nolan’s The Odyssey, distributed by Universal Studios, is full of wildly inconsistent performances across its cast; impatient editing; and a dreadful, confused score. However, Nolan’s ability to evoke scale, tactility, and – more than any of his films prior to this – the natural combining with the divine/supernatural is as grand as any active filmmaker.
Normally on this blog, I provide a brief synopsis. Due to the Odyssey’s popularity, I will forego that here in order to comment on the film’s structure. Nolan, who has not made a linear film since The Dark Knight Rises (2012), eschews linearity again. The continued use of fractured, nonlinear storytelling makes it difficult for yours truly to emotionally connect to characters – each fracture, each crossing of time only reminds me that I am in the act of watching a movie, which paradoxically takes me out of a movie. This nonlinearity is done to excess in Dunkirk (2017) and Tenet. But, in The Odyssey, Nolan shows some restraint. For the opening two-thirds, he frames his film with Odysseus (Matt Damon) beginning to remember his yearslong ordeal to return home while living with Calypso (Charlize Theron) on Ogygia. His time with Calypso (the present) begins mixing with his recollections of the past (everything beforehand, including the end of the Trojan War). The third act begins as Odysseus leaves Ogygia for Ithaca, and the film assumes linearity – aside from a few momentary flashbacks – once he arrives home.
For the first time in a decade, I do not take issue with the nonlinearity of a Nolan film. In fact, the structure – unorthodox as it is – might be the greatest homage to Homer. Odysseus’ gradual recollections of his war service and treacherous voyage home are a partial homage to The Odyssey’s origins. Homer did not invent the narrative of the Odyssey. Instead, Homer took the numerous existing bards’ interpretations of the tale, interpreted it through his own lens, and made it his own. Our understandings through various translations of The Odyssey are, beyond our cognizance, the sum of innumerable interpretations even before Homer’s time. That Damon’s Odysseus, perhaps recounting his experiences imperfectly, is the unreliable narrator (“unreliable” not by any fault of his own) of most of his own tale is a fascinating development and honors the tradition of bardic storytelling, mythology, and their malleability.
This film is replete with action set pieces that classicists have taken to task (the deletion of the “nobody” exchange from the Cyclops encounter is only the first of too many instances in which Nolan’s Odyssey undercuts Odysseus’ characteristic cunning). And yet, one has to admit that those set pieces (and their visual effects) are damn effective – if you ignore the cinematography and the editing.
Cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema's (every Nolan film since 2014’s Interstellar) complete dependence on shallow focus is a waste given the technology on hand. The film, the first narrative feature ever shot entirely on IMAX 70mm cameras, ensures that The Odyssey joins an extremely small list of movies shot entirely in 70mm, including: Oklahoma! (1955), Ben-Hur (1959), Lawrence of Arabia (1962), Patton (1970). Unlike those films, Nolan and van Hoytema rarely pull the camera back. Action sequences never command the full visual scope they require – with key exceptions being Odysseus’ flight from the mouth of Hades, the cliffside ascent to Circe’s (an excellent Samantha Morton) abode, and the flight from the giant Laestrygonians (who are not man-eaters in this adaptation). In scenes such as the final battle against the suitors, the camera’s closeness makes the dimly-lit sequence less comprehensible.
Dialogue scenes are almost all medium-close and close shots in soft focus (admittedly, this is a technical constraint of an IMAX camera). For Nolan and van Hoytema, this is a way to increase the emotional intensity of a conversation when composer Ludwig Göransson (more on him later) is doing the scene no favors. The backgrounds and detailed set designs often appear in blurs. Perhaps Nolan is intending that shallow focus to imply a historical haziness, that the events of the film took place in “a time of apparent magic” (as the opening intertitle says). But these decisions make the dialogue needlessly claustrophobic and too many performances – given Nolan’s weakness in writing humanistic dialogue – do not meet the moment.
What good is a widescreen format when you refuse to pull your camera back in either action or dialogue scenes? Look at the action and dialogue scenes from two of Nolan’s largest influences on The Odyssey: Lawrence of Arabia and Akira Kurosawa’s Ran (1985; in Eastmancolor 35mm, but made widescreen through Panavision lens). Close-ups are extremely rare in both, and only for a few seconds at most. There is also a remarkable stillness and measured editing to both films that The Odyssey sorely lacks.
Speaking of the editing, what is Jennifer Lame (2012’s Frances Ha, 2023’s Oppenheimer) thinking? Especially in the opening thirty or forty-five minutes, this is a jittery, choppy film to watch. Lame and Nolan will cut within a piece of a dialogue mid-syllable to something at least somewhat related to what the speaker is talking about. The most glaring moment is when Anne Hathaway’s Penelope tells Odysseus: “What if we ran? Took you past the ship, the brightest crew, headed for the horizon. Held hands on deck as we rode west at dusk, chasing the escaping sun.” Between Penelope’s lines, Lame and Nolan intersperse her dialogue to Odysseus with images that literalize what she is talking about. The overactive editing robs the moment of its sentiment, undercuts Hathaway’s delivery, and is indicative of Nolan and Lame not trusting the audience with Penelope’s (and others’) words.
In moments of travel on land and by sea, this same editing scheme weakens the sense of awe that Nolan is trying to elicit. Whether Odysseus and his troops are walking through stunning nature or, when the seas are calmer, he and his subordinates are talking about their situation, there is a restlessness here that disrupts any sense of spatial continuity. The scene in the Cyclops’ cave – when Odysseus and his men have more than enough time to discern the geometry of their surroundings, even in darkness – is an editing jumble that serves no one. Perhaps the immaculate sound design and Bill Irwin’s fantastic motion capture performance as the Cyclops redeems the moment, yet the constant cutting threatens to undermine all of that.
I can see Nolan’s ardent defenders saying that the editing scheme is reflective of a protagonist with a patchy memory. If that is true, why does this restless editing persist even to the end? Over Odysseus’ ten-year voyage home, one would think he would have time to slow down and breathe. So should the editing, which never does so.
Before this piece drowns in negativity, some words of praise for the cast. Anne Hathaway, as Penelope, is easily the best lead performer here. Although Nolan’s screenplay also disallows her character to show her wit (wit has never been a Nolan trademark), Hathaway inhabits the requisite amount of emotion from a woman who has spent two decades waiting, but cannot lose her composure in front of the wrong people. Matt Damon, as Odysseus, carries the hero’s weariness brilliantly, and he is trying to make the best out of some terrible dialogue (“The breaking of Zeus’ law, spreading like plague. Our age of bronze is collapsing, and maybe he couldn’t bear to see the ruins of what he’d done. Anywhere. Least of all, his home.” – I didn’t know Bronze Age Greeks knew they were living in the Bronze Age!). In supporting roles, Robert Pattinson is having a lot of fun as the conceited (but ultimately cowardly) suitor Antinous. Samantha Morton makes the most of her extremely limited screentime as Circe – the sound design and visual effects of the human-to-pig transformation might even be scarier than the Cyclops scene.
At a time when Spider-Man: Brand New Day is turbocharging the box office along with The Odyssey, Tom Holland – Spider-Man himself – provides a disastrous performance as Telemachus. I know that Telemachus, largely relegated to waiting around Ithaca until the slaughter of the suitors begins, is not an exciting role. Yet, given his interactions with his mother, Penelope (and eventually Odysseus), it is a crucial one. Flat line deliveries, no crescendo or decrescendo while speaking in tense moments, almost no facial or physical acting, and this appearance of being constantly overawed by other actors around him plague his performance. The scene where he realizes that a disguised Odysseus is, indeed, his father is the moment for Holland to do something – anything – to inject some emotional release, even if it must be quietly done given their situation. The dialogue moments before, the editing, and even the music are all leading up to it. My dear readers, I threw up my hands in utter frustration when he failed to do so, even exclaiming “do something!” under the cover of the score and sound mix. Holland is out of his depth here – this may pass for a Spider-Man performance, but it is wholly inappropriate here.
Lupita Nyong’o (Helen of Troy/Clytemnestra); Zendaya (credited as Athena, but she might not be); and especially Charlize Theron (Calypso) have agonizingly little to do. Other featured actors include John Leguizamo as Odysseus’ blind slave, Eumaeus; Jon Bernthal as Menelaus; Himesh Patel as Eurylochus (Odysseus’ second-in-command); and Elliot Page as Sinon (Greek soldier, from the Aeneid and not the Odyssey).
Before Ludwig Göransson (2018’s Black Panther, 2025’s Sinners) set to work on the score for The Odyssey, Christopher Nolan gave him a specific instruction to not use an orchestra. This is because, Nolan reasoned, orchestras did not exist in Ancient Greece. Instead, Göransson put together an ensemble including Albanian and Greek instruments (the aulos and fyell), bronze percussion, sheet metal drums, and replicas of ancient lyres. This advocate for more orchestral scores agrees that orchestras did not exist in Ancient Greece, and that a great score need not a Western orchestra. Under the circumstances and given that we can never truly know what Ancient Greek instruments sounded like, I credit Göransson for seeking an “authentic” sound – to the extent he can.
So why are synths okay? The Odyssey’s score constantly uses synths – whether to accentuate the existing acoustic instruments or by itself. Why is atonal (the lack of a “home” note/tonic to resolve to) and amelodic (the lack of any melody) music okay for The Odyssey when the historical record is clear that, by the Bronze Age, the Greeks were already developing the building blocks of Western scales and their music was already deeply melodic (monophony – music without harmony)?
“Zeus’s Law” sets the tone of the score. Instead of being welcoming as the title might suggest, the intense electronic manipulation of the lyre and percussion blends into aural ambience that, in the moment, will suggest Odysseus’ psychological torment. But outside of its context, it has zero staying power. Only “Ithaca” – the clearest articulation of those aforementioned Albanian and Greek woodwinds – provides any sense of musical legibility. When those woodwinds get to tower above Göransson’s synths, one feels a sense of comfort, a potential homecoming – even if the suitors are doing their best to take advantage of Penelope’s hospitality. “Ithaca” also introduces one of my favorite musical ideas in the whole score: the use of a recreated lyre, under heavy reverb, for the plucking Odysseus’ famed bow.
There is one other cue that I think reflects the score as a whole and its usage in the film. In any adaptation of the Odyssey, the sirens – the female humanoid creatures with lyrical voices that tempt men to their doom – are a musical highlight. In Nolan’s Odyssey, lyricism has no place in a film so singularly focused on Odysseus’ mental travails. “Sirens” cannot overcome the electronic manipulation surrounding it, with even the choir used in the cue barely doing anything. The lack of melody, however, nevertheless highlights the tension within the cue. Temptation is a theme that runs across any telling of the Odyssey, and Nolan – thankfully – does not dispense with that. So while “Sirens” fits the moment as Nolan portrays it, am I going to rush to listen to it again anytime soon? And do I find much musical interest in it? Absolutely not on both counts.
Film critics and cinephiles have proclaimed Ludwig Göransson a musical genius of film scoring. I personally do not discount his inventiveness, his willingness to experiment with different instruments and sounds. But as someone trained in classical piano and violin, I do not find myself emotionally awed by his music – which often wafts between ambience and defeaning Hans Zimmer-esque drum pounding and droning synth pulses (used for nothing more other than scene propulsion).
The Odyssey is a narrative that includes raw emotions and ideas: cunning, desperation, homesickness, loss, loyalty, and triumph. It includes moments that showcases humanity’s selfishness and ugliness, but also selflessness and beauty. Nolan is more interested in bombastic, “aura farming” music. But “aura farming”, as younger viewers say, is, by definition, superficial. Quoting myself from my Dunkirk write-up, I do not think Nolan understands what melody can accomplish for his movies. His opinions and preferences for texture and ambience ill-serves Göransson, who I suspect – through previous films – is a more interesting composer than what he has shown here.
At a time of corporate consolidation in Hollywood, risk-taking within the major studios is backsliding to the financial demands of propping up an action franchise, usually to do with superheroes. The Odyssey is as risky as major studio filmmaking can get in the mid-2020s – an enormous sword-and-sandals mythological epic with a director who does not allow for studio interference in his work. To adapt Homer’s Odyssey in those conditions, even with Christopher Nolan’s reputation as a box office draw, is to swim upstream, against executives who – unlike their predecessors of Old Hollywood – have almost no artistic experience. The very fact that this movie came to theaters is a triumph.
Yet, we need to separate the feats it took to finish this film with what it aspires to be. This is an ancient narrative of fallibility and heroism, desolation and homecoming, temptation and loyalty, treachery and hospitality, of foreboding and faith. Any narrative that can last millennia is many things to many people, and all of things at once. Christopher Nolan, in this adaptation, dispenses with much of the Odyssey’s hopefulness, reimagining him as a glum, individualistic imperialist (how very British!). And that interpretation of Odysseus and his adventures – emotionally detached, aloof (does Nolan still think he is making Batman movies? Because Odysseus is very unlike the Caped Crusader!) – is in accordance with Nolan’s beliefs that Odysseus being a flawed hero makes him more relatable.
Other than his loyalty to Penelope and to Ithaca, it is difficult to see what is so heroic about this version of Odysseus. Nolan strips almost all of that heroism away through his questionable decisions over the film’s cinematography, editing, and music – and I have not even written in detail about his inability to write convincing dialogue or to endow women characters depth. This Odyssey and this Odysseus are the ones we deserve, Nolan says, not the ones we need. And I would agree. However, the adaptations and heroes that we “need” are just as, if not more, important than those that we deserve.
My rating: 6/10
^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog. Half-points are always rounded down.
For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.
Power can’t protect you.
Power can’t protect you.
The adjustment bureau (2012)
girl omfg...
Does anyone else dream of becoming famous just so they can get on Jimmy Kimmel Live and pull a Matt Damon-prank on him, or is it just me
The Odyssey (2026) movie rambling
So it's been some time since I've had so many thoughts after watching a movie. Watched The Odyssey twice now and folks, I'm kinda obsessed since the first watch. I really don't get the hate the movie gets here.
I had to ramble somewhere so here we go.
First off, I'm going to mostly ramble about what I love about the movie but I'm aware it's not a perfect movie. It's not even my favorite Nolan movie, Interstellar keeps its top spot for now and I suspect it always will but The Odyssey touched something in me that's hard to articulate, it made me wonder, it made me think, it brought me back to my 10 year old self who loved Greek mythology. It made me think “this is cinema” when I walked out of the theater. And it had been some time, at least when it comes to modern movies.
I'll get back to my “the bad, ugly, good and great” items. It's been some time.
Well, I don't have any “the ugly” moments for this movie because it's too good, so there's that.
Let's go : The bad, the meh, the good, the AWESOME