I really didn’t want to do this. There’s been more than enough cyber-ink spilled over Christopher Nolan’s film adaptation of The Odyssey, and the last thing I wanted to do was pile more onto the already perilously over-laden bandwagon. But dang it, they forced my hand, the “anti-woke” inbreds who won’t stop howling to the moon about the director’s choices such as (shudder) casting a black woman in a major role. So I felt compelled to air out a few salient points.

First, let me offer a capsule review — and having already paid my dues during several years of writing lengthier reviews of movies, I’m entitled to be brief this time. For the most part, I loved it. The film adds depth to the characters and gives the narrative a cohesive, well-structured flow, as well as a solid thematic and emotional framework.

I’m particularly pleased with how Nolan solves the problem of Homer’s anticlimactic trajectory; fully half of the epic poem takes place after Odysseus has already returned to his homeland. All the episodes we associate with the story — Circe, the Cyclops, and so on — occur in the first twelve books, while the second twelve have Odysseus just hanging around and mostly playing a game of keeping his wife Penelope in the dark about his homecoming, while plotting revenge on the MAGA-mentality suitors. In the movie, however, the reunion occupies a considerably lesser percentage of the footage, and the section chronicling the wanderings of the title character are well developed and nicely paced.

Naturally, I have my quibbles about the flick. But exactly zero percent of them are concerned with the casting, and particularly with the ethnicity of the casting. The main objection I have is that some of the diction sounds too contemporary, e.g. “fuck off”. Now I realize that the ancient Greeks must have had their own equivalents of such expressions, but it still grates on my ears just a tad. That’s purely a matter of personal taste, and (unlike a great many others in Twenty-First Century America), I would not expect Nolan to alter his vision to gratify my personal preferences. Furthermore, his dialogue is a refreshing change from the approach many other filmmakers have taken of adorning their depictions of ancient tales with the albatross of contrived archaic verbiage that comes off sounding leaden and corny.

As a side note, a few scenes feature falling snow, even though there appears to be no particular reason for it in the script. Apparently, it was just the luck of the draw that the company filmed in harsh weather; and they soldiered on, even decked in rather skimpy garb. So they get bonus points for that. And I’d pay just about anything to see Sean Hannity, Ben Shapiro, Jesse Watters or Matt Walsh work under similar conditions. (Or, come to think of it, to do any actual work under any conditions.)

Now for those “random thoughts” I promised.

Artistic License

Storytellers use it. All storytellers. Even “Homer” himself/ herself. (There’s no proof Homer ever existed, and there is informed speculation that the author so branded was actually female.) Did you really think that “Homer” just pulled these episodes out of thin air? They were retellings of stories that were old even in his/her own time. And to retell is to change to some extent, inevitably and unavoidably — even if there is no deliberate intent to take liberties, which there almost always is.

It’s also inevitable that storytelling is interpretation. Storytellers always emphasize the themes and details that appeal most to them and/ or their audiences. For Nolan, that’s residents of the modern era. Get over it.

Black Helen

So where exactly does Homer specify Helen’s skin color? The stock epithets applied to her such as “white-armed” and “fair-faced” evoke nobility and beauty respectively, not race. All we know of her appearance is that she had a “face that launched a thousand ships”. In other words, she was uncommonly beautiful. And if surrounded by palefaces, a dark complexion would certainly be uncommon. There’s no reason that Helen couldn’t even be green. After all she was, lest we forget, a frigging MYTHICAL CHARACTER, who was, for crying out loud, begotten of Zeus disguised as a swan. (Hey, maybe it was a black swan.)

Elliott Page

The attackers on the casting of trans actor Elliott Page largely have attempted to disguise their transphobia by focusing on his supposedly inappropriate size instead. But Page portrays a youthful character whose diminutive dimensions are quite suitable. Even so, Page is actually closer to the average size of soldiers in ancient Greece than is Matt Damon. How many people have protested that he is too big?

Star Power

Some people have even made an issue of using American actors, such as Matt Damon, to play Greeks in a cinematic fantasy. But literally nobody has taken exception to using a star like Matt Damon. Don’t you think it just a bit odd that a mythical hero like Odysseus should happen to look just like a U.S. celebrity? Or for that matter, that so many common people from all walks of life in otherwise very realistic movies should be impersonated by household names? Few people even give this a thought; it’s just part of the surreal conventions of cinema, the willing suspension of disbelief. Casting usually becomes contested only when race is involved.

Historical Accuracy

So now blockbuster epics are supposed to be documentaries all of a sudden? Once again let’s point out that this is a mythical story. Yes, it’s set within a real geographical range and a very broadly defined real historical era. But mythical stories set in the “real world” are actually set within an alternate variation of the real world; accordingly the rules, such as they are, can’t be expected to apply strictly. When has a feature film — even one “based on a true story” — ever, ever, EVER been totally “historically accurate”?

Ah, Schindler’s List, you say. Funny you should mention that one. As it happens, I also just watched it once more. Great film. Masterpiece. And for the most part, true to life. But not entirely without stretchers. For example, Ralph Fiennes, portraying the evil Nazi officer Amon Göth, spends much of the film sporting medals that the real Göth never was awarded — indeed he would have had to receive one of them when he was eleven years old. Furthermore (spoiler alert) the iconic girl in the red coat meets her death in the film, while in real life she survived the war, grew up, and authored a book about her experiences.

Okay, so nobody would take note of such details unless they had expertise in certain areas; but the same can be said of the body armor worn by the soldiers in The Odyssey that some have taken exception to. And mind you, Speilberg’s opus is actually a true story — and one of much more recent chronology than Homer’s.

It’s strikingly ironic that much of the carping over “historical accuracy” comes from people who, one may safely bet, are or have been fans of cowboy flicks that have routinely contained about as many inaccuracies as accuracies. Even the beloved guns and the way they are used defy history. But when have you ever heard anyone complain about inaccuracies in an oater? By the way, virtually all of the old horse operas used white actors to portray Native Americans. How many conservatives ever raised a stink about that? (Or about even more egregious trespasses like Mickey Rooney’s pure cringe portrayal of a Japanese character in Breakfast At Tiffany’s?)

The most accomplished storyteller of them all, William Shakespeare, ate poetic license for breakfast every morning. In Julius Caesar, for example, there is a reference to Caesar’s body lying in a coffin, which the ancient Romans did not use. Even more conspicuously, there is the striking of a clock, centuries ahead of schedule. Moreover, the plays in his theatre were performed in contemporary dress, even though many of the stories reached far into the past. And speaking of dress, female characters were always played by male actors. In other words, these were drag shows. How’s that for objectionable casting, ye paragons of purity?

In today’s theatre, Shakespeare’s works are often reimagined in the milieu of gangsters, cowboys, spacemen and whatever. You might find fault with some of these choices (I suspect The Bard himself would be fascinated), but I’ve never once heard a right-winger complain that they are too “woke” or signal the end of Western (white) Civilization.

Bottom Line

Let’s face it, the vast majority of the ginned-up outrage over Nolan’s Odyssey isn’t really inspired by the film itself or anything in it. It’s inspired by the incessant, obsessive, unhinged right-wing “culture war” that also generated so much idiotic “controversy” over such earth-shaking matters as Barbie and M&M’s and Sesame Street. It will never stop, not even if these people succeed in getting things 110 percent like they want them — they’ll still find something else to work themselves into a froth over. It’s what they do. It’s who they are.

In the meantime, they’re continuing to give The Odyssey more free publicity, until their next target comes along — which should be any day now. And they’re reminding us that one of the hallmarks of a substantial work of art is how much it provokes discussion — and especially how it raises the hackles of reactionaries.

Art is not supposed to merely meet your expectations. It’s supposed to challenge them, defy them, stretch them, maybe even expand them permanently. This film pretty much did that for me. Unfortunately, there are those individuals who are so ferociously attached to their old skins that they spit venom at anyone else who indulges in a little molting.