There is nothing essentially groundbreaking about about Christopher Nolan’s masterly epic. Everything that has gone into this adaption of Homer’s 2,800 year old, 12,000 line poem is what goes into making every great film: acting, photography, editing, script and, most crucially in my book, pace. The film’s three tense hours elapse with the speed of a riptide.
True, for the first time an entire movie has been shot with IMAX cameras. They are so noisy and heavy they had to develop new ways of silencing and schlepping the machines over land and sea-scapes.
Yet the resulting film feels constructed from the same elements that have made cinema magic since the talkies. In this film of sirens, giants, and a terrifying Cyclops, what stands out are not the effects but a stunningly skilful use of one of cinema’s most dependable techniques – the simple flashback.
The first is from a nameless bard such as Homer himself (who gets a writing credit alongside Nolan) as he holds court with his tale of Odysseus’s feats of war, His rude audience are the suiters and freeloaders who wait in absent Odysseus’s palace for the chance to marry his queen Penelope (Anne Hathaway). She and his son Telemachus (Tom Holland) are waiting nervously for his return decades after he left to conquer Troy.
Anne Hathaway and Tom Holland[Missing Credit]
The attack on the city is superbly wrought. Terrifyingly we are taken inside the giant, leaky wooden horse that has been carefully stranded on a beach. Here Matt Damon’s Odysseus and his men wait for their plan to bear fruit. Some agonizingly drown as tides rise and fall until the Trojans drag the gift through their city gates.
There is always a danger that the impossibly starry cast of this film trivialises the project. Athena, who appears as Odysseus’s conscience, is played by Zendeya, while an excellent Robert Pattinson is a reptilian Antinous who conspires to wed Penelope after killing her son.
Certainly Charlize Theron as the nymph Calypso never gets the chance to be anything other than Charlize Theron with the wind in her hair and her fluttering diaphanous beachwear. The scenes’ saving grace is yet another flashback, this time from Odysseus as he stitches back his memory and morality, both lost since he and his men scythed their way through Troy’s civilian population.
Remarkably these monumental events often have and everyday feel to them which makes the suspension of disbelief unnecessary, or easier at least. Take the banal impulse behind Odysseus’s decision to spear Polyphemus, the giant cyclops whose sorrowful face is as twisted as a wrung towel. Odysseus’s act is not one of bravery but spite, and you don’t get more everyday than that.
The landscape is also relatively ordinary for a movie epic. Not here the stunning peaks and valleys chosen by Peter Jackson for his Hobbit films. Dolan’s locations are more random countryside shot in the kind of flat daylight we might encounter during a stroll as if to say Odysseus’ time may have been magical and extraordinary, but the world in which he existed is ours.
The Odyssey
Certificate 15
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