Wilson v Nolan

I love Emily Wilson, the University of Pennsylvania classics professor whose translation of The Odyssey is by far and away the most readable and engaging I have encountered. I have seen her speak numerous times and she is spellbinding. She changed forever the way I look at translations of Greek literature by avoiding high-flown Shakespearean English, using a more modern patois. As she notes, Shakespearean English is no closer to ancient Greek than our speech today.

It has been reported that Christopher Nolan, in crafting his Odyssey movie, consulted Wilson’s translation. It shows in his language choices. She has been all over the news talking about The Odyssey as outlets look for every possible angle as interest in the movie has skyrocketed. The movie also bolstered the sale of her translation far beyond anything she could have imagined.

If anyone thought that this unexpected boost in Wilson’s popularity would temper her reaction to the movie doesn’t know her well. Her review, published in the London Review of Books, was scathing. While she admits that the film is entertaining, her conclusion was that it had the same level of narrative and emotional depth as an elaborate Fourth of July fireworks display. Actually, that might be the nicest thing she had to say.

I have now seen the movie twice, and while I adore Emily, I must say that her criticisms are generally misplaced. This is not surprising. Wilson apparently could not put aside her deep knowledge and love of the text and assess Nolan’s work as a movie. It is akin to an author lamenting the subsequent versions of his or her novel while still raking in significant sums from the sale of movie rights.  

In her review Wilson laments that “the film’s vision is too confused [and] its characters to underdeveloped…” You almost get the sense that she would have liked the film to focus on secondary characters and not Odysseus. For example, she complains that there “is no room in this maximalist film for anything as charming and mundane and small scale as Nausica’s laundry”, referring to a scene in the Book where Odysseus visits the Phaeacians, which is excised from the movie. If Nolan had adapted Wilson’s approach, we may have had a 5-hour movie instead of the three it is.

In that same vein, Wilson complains that Lupita Nyong’o’s double part as Helen and Clytemnestra is “hugely underwritten.” This complaint is ironic. Helen only appears in Book 4 of the saga and has but one short speech. The killing of Agamemnon is also recounted in Book 4, though Clytemnestra is not even mentioned there. The actual killing is done by Aegisthus, her lover.

Clytemnestra does figure in a rant by Agamemnon during Odysseus’ visit to Hades, one of the most misogynistic moments in the book. Unlike in the movie, Clytemnestra’s actions are not attributed to the sacrifice of her daughter, Iphigenia, by Agamemnon. The cause seems to be her desire to rule with her paramour. Arguably, Nolan’s alteration makes her a more sympathetic character. At any rate, it is a stretch to argue that she deserved more exposition in the film.

Wilson’s dismissal of Penelope’s character is also puzzling. Wilson argues that Penelope is given “nothing to do except yearn for Matt Damon….” She must have been watching a different movie than me. Hathaway’s Penelope struck me as perhaps the most compelling character in the film.

Yes, Penelope yearns for the return of her husband, but she doesn’t let that yearning rule her common sense. She deals harshly with anyone who wants to take advantage of her by feeding her false hope. She is protective of her son, as concerned for his future as she is for hers. She is also justifiably proud of her tenure as Queen in Odysseus’ absence.

Her relationship with the suitors is complex. She hates them with a passion, wanting to see them burned to death. Yet, she recognizes her vulnerability, especially if she wants to save Telemachus. She seems almost resigned to a life tied to one of these parasites, hoping against hope that Odysseus will appear. It makes her the most sympathetic character in the movie.

Wilson’s main complaint is the way Odysseus is presented. The basis of her dissatisfaction is expressed in the title of the piece “An Uncomplicated Man”. In her mind the Odysseus of the book is amiable rogue, with a sly sense of humor and a preternatural gift for storytelling. An ancient Han Solo bragging about making the Aegean Run in less than 12 parsecs.

The truth of the matter is that the Odysseus of the epic poem has little in common with Solo. He is a hardened warrior who has little compunction or reflection about his life of ruthless killing. The Trojans were his enemies, and he did what he had to do to destroy them. If the voyage home required the pillaging of some villages, then so be it. I am not sure if could have sat through a movie depicting that Odysseus.

To my mind, Nolan made Odysseus a much more interesting character. He looks back on his actions and wonders what he has unleashed on the world. He recognizes that he has contributed significantly to undermining the civilization he reveres. He is who he is, and cannot escape it, but it does not sit well with him.

Odysseus relationship to the Gods is also refreshing. In the saga, Odysseus does not question the authority of the Gods and relies on Athena to pull him out of one scrape after another. In the movie Athena is all but reduced to an extension of his conscience. Even then he disparages her and the other Gods for their lack of clarity. He also expresses disdain for the Gods by dismissing his crew’s pleas that he apologizes to Poseidon. Instead, he is defiant, as if the continual storms are nothing but bad luck that he can overcome on his own.

Nowhere are the differences in the book’s and movie’s Odysseus clearer than in the treating of the suitors. This scene is one of the most savage in the film. Wilson labels it as contrary to Nolan’s seeming wish to paint Odysseus as a reluctant warrior, and there is some truth to that.

However, compared to the scene in the book Nolan showed significant restraint. Yes, Odysseus kills most of the suitors in the film but stops the bloodbath when a significant number kneel in surrender after the death of Antinous. In the book, every suitor is killed. And then all the slaves who aided the suitors are brutally executed. No quarter is given.

Nolan also tempers the book’s suitor slaughter by withholding Telemachus from the festivities. Odysseus feels that he must clear his household, but he does not want his son tarnished. Telemachus must stay above the carnage if he is going to rule the island. The Odysseus of the book exhibits no such concern. Telemachus wholly joins in the bloodshed, and, in fact, is ultimately responsible for the slaying of the supposedly duplicitous slaves.  

Still, this is a troubling scene. It is wholesale murder, and while the film (and book) does everything it can to make the slaughter justifiable, it is horrific. But this denouement had to be there. The film would not be the Odyssey without it.

Wilson also derides the ending, comparing it to the finale of Jackson’s Lord of the Rings. And there is a similarity. In both the chief protagonist sails off into a mythical west, leaving the known world behind. But there the comparison ends. Odysseus is not escaping a world he no longer can live in. He is willingly going into exile in hopes that Telemachus can rule without the violence that is his fate. It is a fitting exit for Nolan’s hero.

Again, if we compare this ending to the book we must acknowledge Nolan’s vision. There, Odysseus has no thought of leaving the island, intending instead to reassert his kingship. To do so he is more than willing to continue the killing, arming to face the suitor’s families when Athena intervenes to stop the death spiral. Odysseus seems never to give such forbearance or the families’ legitimate grievances a thought.

Nolan’s movie is not perfect. Like Emily, I would have liked to see more of Odysseus’ charm and cunning come through. His main strategy seems to be to run away across beautiful beaches. I also agree that taking the edge off Calypso makes her character, who lived with Odysseus for 7years and had no desire to end that relationship superfluous. I must also acknowledge the complaint of an astute cynophile who opined that it would be a good thing if Nolan could hold a shot for longer than three seconds. His unwillingness to do so definitely undermines the more intimate scenes, such as those between Penelope and Telemachus.

Still to my mind these criticisms are minor. Nolan managed to infuse this ancient saga with life, and that was no easy task. His depiction of the main characters tended to enhance and modernize them in a way that not only make sense, but were arguably necessary to present a coherent, palatable 2026 movie. Emily, my dear, you will always be a favorite, but I think you got this one wrong.