[Column] ‘The Odyssey’: Finally, a good chamber drama

When Simon Rattle conducted Arnold Schoenberg's "Gurrelieder" in Berlin decades ago, he was questioned about its performance, which required a large orchestra with 400 chorus members. The conductor simply stated that "Gurrelieder" is essentially a piece of chamber music demanding 600 players for a proper performance. This paradox encapsulates the essence of Christopher Nolan's "The Odyssey."

Upon first viewing the film, I was taken aback by its lack of grandeur and spectacular scenes, reminiscent instead of a modest, almost chamber drama akin to B productions. While numerous critics extolled the film's authenticity and raw battle sequences, I found myself viewing it as a more subdued and intimate portrayal of the Odyssey.

The absence of a massive beach scene with thousands of Greek soldiers and boats did not diminish the film's impact; rather, it emphasized the smaller, more personal aspects of the epic. Rather than showcasing a sprawling metropolis like Troy, the movie presents it as a cluster of buildings with narrow, winding streets. Nolan also refrained from depicting the brutal cruelty directly, particularly in the scene where Odysseus' ship navigates between Scylla and Charybdis.

Instead of utilizing special effects to render the whirlpool, Charybdis is depicted as a modest, non-threatening water circle, underscoring the film's focus on the human experience. The film's shift in perspective towards women's inner lives, a departure from the Iliad's focus on male exploits and women as secondary characters, adds depth to the narrative.

Nolan's decision to portray the female leads as desexualized rather than beautiful further emphasizes this shift in focus. This desexualization reaches its peak with Circe, portrayed by Samantha Morton, who is depicted as disgusted by male gluttony, turning them into pigs when they cannot control their eating. This portrayal stands in stark contrast to the poem, where Circe is a seductress, turning men into pigs when they reject her advances.

In a departure from traditional heroic narratives, Nolan chooses to personalize Agamemnon and the Trojan soldiers, presenting them as anonymous and depersonalized. While the film highlights the Greek crimes and cheating, it does so without contrasting them against more honest and sympathetic Trojan characters. The film's depiction of the Trojan horse's cramped and horrifying conditions, as Odysseus describes, is a chilling reality check that underscores the animalistic hunger to prevail in battle.

This approach, reminiscent of Brecht's Verfremdung, forces the audience to confront the gritty, unglamorous aspects of heroic acts. The film's beginning introduces the idea of Sinon, a Greek soldier protecting the wooden Trojan horse, which is presented as a gift of reconciliation. However, unlike Odysseus in the poem, Sinon is unaware that there are elite Greek soldiers hidden within the horse, waiting to strike when the Trojans bring it inside the city.

This deception highlights Odysseus' cunning and manipulative nature, which ultimately leads to the end of the Bronze Age heroic spirit of honor and the ushering in of classical Greece. Today, as we approach a new era dominated by AI and the rise of "post-truth" culture, the film's message resonates more than ever. Nolan's reflections conclude the movie by drawing parallels between Odysseus' manipulations and lies and our contemporary predicament, suggesting that we are entering a new age characterized by the dominance of AI and the erosion of truth.

The film's message is a stark reminder of the cyclical nature of civilizations, where the end of one brings forth a new, potentially more challenging reality.