Christopher Nolan, one of the greatest filmmakers of our time, has written and directed his latest film, an adaptation of The Odyssey by Homer. Most likely written in the 8th Century BC, the Greek epic poem might well be the most popular story to have ever been written. Aside from the Bible, the poems of Homer are arguably the most read in the history of Western civilization. Naturally, such an adaptation is a polarizing film that no one can seem to agree upon. Is it too woke? Not woke enough? Is it faithful to the original Greek? From the select reviews I’ve read so far, the public criticism has revealed less about the film itself and more about the ignorance of the public when it comes to classical literature. When you see an article, essay, or Facebook post about Nolan’s film, make sure to ask yourself: “do I think the author has even picked up The Odyssey, or are they merely going along with the latest wave of the zeitgeist?” Well, here I am, writing a review to go along with the latest wave of the zeitgeist.
I’ll start with a preface: I don’t have strong opinions about the film. I enjoyed it, I don’t have any moral qualms with some of my older students watching it, but it’s not my favorite film nor even my favorite Nolan film. The dialogue was poor, the casting disappointing, but the music and thematic tone were entertaining. So, while I don’t have strong opinions about the film, I do have strong opinions about The Odyssey, and instead of convincing you whether or not you should line the pockets of Universal Pictures this weekend (the film grossed $389 million worldwide, they’ll be fine) I wanted to show the similarities the film has with the original poem. I am by no means an expert on the poem, but hopefully this review can help a viewer navigate the waters as Odysseus himself sailed “the wine-dark sea.”
What makes a good adaptation of a nearly three-thousand-year old poem written in an ancient language? The difficult nature of translation lies on the shoulders of Christopher Nolan, a task that ultimately leads to failure. For our students at FGR, we decided to go with the Robert Fagles translation not because it was the most “accurate” job, but because it was the most easily accessible for our students while still being faithful to the spirit of Homer’s story. Now, what does fidelity mean when it comes to translations and adaptations?
Ultimately, it’s whatever can bring the reader closer to the original text, which is a task the translator will always fail at. The hard truth is that only for the last hundred have we pretended that a translation of The Odyssey counts for the real thing. What most of us have is the next best thing: reading with someone who has a deep reverence and devotion to the poem. That’s what our students at FGR have in the Literature Department, but unfortunately that’s not the case in most schools. Emily Wilson came out with a translation of The Odyssey in 2017, publicly stating that all previous translations were “racist” and “misogynistic,” purposely depicting Odysseus as a “liar” who “failed his men” on his voyage home from the Trojan War. She seems to have a certain hatred for the hero himself, a perfect case study of an unfaithful translation at work. When Christopher Nolan told reporters that he was primarily using the Wilson translation when writing the script, many of us in the classics field were concerned that he too would share a hatred for our hero and our poem. However, a viewing of the film shows that Nolan certainly loves Odysseus and the story of his return home. He depicts our hero as a good man who desires to get home to his family, and this family deeply desires for their father to return. But is it faithful?
To attempt to channel the twenty-four-book poem into a single movie is akin to shoving a Gothic cathedral into the space of a private chapel: it can be done, but don’t expect anything to be the same. Instead of relying on the richness of the multifaceted narrative, Nolan is forced to stick to one theme. He does well to focus on xenia, roughly translated as hospitality (“Zeus’s law” as the film calls it), a tradition central to the ancient world. Travelling was a highly dangerous affair, so the killing of a guest was almost as bad as we would view child abuse; someone in their most vulnerable state being taken advantage of instead of protected. Though it was still common, it was socially perceived as sacrilegious, for any traveler could be a god in disguise. St. Benedict copied this practice in his monastic code: “Let all the guests at their arrival be received as if they were Christ himself.” In the film as well as in the book, the question on how to receive guests (and how to be a good guest) is a vital point of plot progression. Just as Odysseus himself is trying to get home and finds himself the guest of “many cities of men,” his own home is overrun with barbaric men who have long overstayed their welcome. In this regard, the film is consistent with the narrative of Homer: to ignore xenia is to reject the gods and bring about the end of civilization itself.
Another shared theme of the film and poem is that of the transition between warfare and the culture of homelife. While the film’s portrayal of Odysseus as a guilt-stricken, PTSD-ridden veteran can’t exactly be found in the poem. The question of how one leaves the life of the warrior behind looms largely throughout both poem and movie. The cycle of blood feuds was continuous in the ancient world; families killing families only to be avenged by other relations of the families, and nothing short of total annihilation could end such horrific conflicts. In addition, the only means of attaining immortality in the ancient world was by being remembered for your great deeds through songs passed on for generations. In The Iliad, the great warrior Achilles struggles with the choices of leaving the war and living a long (albeit forgotten) life at home or staying and fighting for glory until his last breath. He chooses the latter, and there’s a reason to this day we say the name of Achilles. Odysseus, however, has not died. He will be remembered for his struggles to get back to his home and restore order to the island of Ithaca. To do this, he must shed his identity of hero, symbolized by his loss of his fellow warriors, his armor, and even his very name as he arrives on Ithaca in disguise as a lowly beggar. Of all the scenes in the film, the final revelation of Odysseus coming home is definitely the most satisfying. Despite this movie’s many flaws, it’s clear Christopher Nolan wanted to honor the king of Ithaca by presenting his homecoming as a joy to his friends and despair for his enemies.
Is the film faithful to the epic poem? Perhaps, but it’s certainly not the poem itself. I watched the film with the question “would I want my students to watch this film?” constantly on my mind, and in the end the answer was more positive than negative. At the end of the day the film is obviously no replacement for Homer’s poem. Such a masterpiece requires multiple read-throughs, memorization of key passages, and yes, even the study of a bit of Greek in order to properly appreciate one of the greatest works of art in human history. If anything good comes out of this recent film, it will be more people reading The Odyssey than before, something that we believe at FGR to be vital to the flourishing of the human person.