I have been looking forward to your thoughts. We are of like minds but you said it much more eloquently than I ever could. I also love Interstellar and have seen it numerous times. Oppenheimer I liked quite a bit but not sure if it is one I will rewatch much. With The Odyssey I seem to always approach a new translation or adaptation rather than returning to one I have already experienced. I have seen the movies, read several translations, and each experience is new, fresh. The tale is timeless. I enjoyed Nolen's adaptation and I think its greatest victory is how it has stirred up interest in the classics. I doubt it will be a film I return to frequently though. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this one. - Matthew
Matthew, and I've been interested to learn your response to my thoughts, given your own deep dive into The Odyssey. I'm struck by how similar multiple of our responses are. (You, too, love Interstellar!) There's a kind of gut lesson, I think, in our willingness, even eagerness to return to a work, in whole or in part by seeking out favorite passages or dipping into a film already in progress on TV because almost any scene will offer reward even in isolation. As it turns out, as many have hoped, the film and reactions to it have boosted sales and library reserves (especially for Wilson), and in line with my focus on how these moments are created, most publishers prepared themselves to capitalize on the attention for their various translations: https://www.nytimes.com/2026/07/20/books/odyssey-book-editions.html
I must be the last person in my circle who’s waiting for the crowds to subside before seeing Nolan’s Odyssey. Meanwhile I follow the reactions, both critical and casual, with bemusement. People seem to watch this movie through the scrim of expectation and bias. Your essay, unlike most of the others, draws on sustained attention to Homer, Nolan and the historical arc of culture-making. I enjoyed your fusion of the erudite and the personal. While everyone else debates Nolan’s take on Homer, maybe I should settle in with Uberto Pasolini’s, which I’d never heard of until now.
My inclination, Rona, from what I think I know, is to believe that you, like I, will much prefer the Pasolini. For one thing, art lover that you are, it will offer you far more shot-by-shot pleasure.
One of the more original takes on "The Odyssey" is Daniel Mendelsohn's own nonfiction book, "An Odyssey: A Father, A Son, and An Epic," which I read during the pandemic and liked very much; its narrative structure is similar to the epic's. Over the course of the college class on the epic that Mendelsohn is teaching, his own 80-something father, Jay, sits and repeatedly questions Odysseus's character - is he a "true hero" or portraying his true self - and gradually their relationship begins to change, in important ways, with the story having started one way and becoming one in which both father and son educate each other about who each is, in the process finally able to "see" that what each thought he knew was not the whole story.
Myths and legends persist for a reason beyond storytelling alone, and as I think Mendelsohn's book shows, if we're perceptive enough, we can take from them insights into both what we get wrong and what we get right about ourselves and those in our lives.
I haven't seen the film, so I can't say it is doing the work that Mendelsohn's book does subtly, or that "The Odyssey" itself does. I do think that the film's arrival now is serendipitous, given what we can identify is happening in our society: ongoing wars, both within and without, banning of books and loss of the humanities as core to education, immigration (what does it mean to belong and be home), lies and deceptions, the turn away from democracy (what we never thought could happen), unease with AI, etc.
By the way, there's at least one photo on Facebook of Wilson's tattoos related to "The Iliad" and "The Odyssey."
I knew of Mendelsohn's memoir but had no idea that was quite the nature of it. That sounds truly fascinating.
You write, "Myths and legends persist for a reason beyond storytelling alone, and as I think Mendelsohn's book shows, if we're perceptive enough, we can take from them insights into both what we get wrong and what we get right about ourselves and those in our lives."
I think that's true. Though of neither myth nor legend, that method of Mendelsohn's memoir puts me in mind of this marvelous poem by Robert Wrigley (which maybe I've shared with you before?), in which a poet son tries to bridge the gap of understanding between himself and his deceased father by reaching the discontinuous connection between their interests, in "Machinery": https://www.thegeorgiareview.com/posts/machinery/
I think what you say about Nolan's film's arrival and the parking of this conversation is true, yet for some, at least, there's an unsurprising blindness demonstrated by their having been provoked by the film. I've likened them to the suitors. Maybe better still is "the sea peoples" of Nolan's film-- the imagined barbaric invaders set to destroy civilization.
This was an incredibly incisive analysis of the many aspects of the complicated reception of Nolan's version of the Odyssey. Of course the spectacle of its cost, its distribution, its IMAX frame-size, and Nolan's recent success all came together to create a blockbuster. But I think one reason for the many words that have been written for or against it, is that we all consider the Odyssey our own. It's possibly the most iconic piece of literature in the Western canon. Anyone who's read the Odyssey has its narrative embedded forever in their mind, and already an interior film version fashioned from Homer's words. I've written elsewhere that I don't want my version of it replaced by someone else's. This is a problem I have with many film versions of great books. Why would I want to see Wuthering Heights, or Pride and Prejudice? It's as if the filming of classic literature is a form of Reader's Digest--picking and choosing the bright bits to show and leaving whole swaths behind. That said, I confess to being curious about The Return, but also about Konchalovsky's version too. (Konchalovsky's Siberiade is a film I loved). Anyway, thanks for this far-reaching piece which I'll continue to think about in the next days.
Thanks so much, Brooks. I agree with you. With every beloved work, we all have our internalized version of the world we took from the text, and we all want it brought to life, notwithstanding my comments on that desire. A factor that might work to discourage that anticipation is how much the adaptation in some way announces itself as a creative response as much as adaptation. Once we know ahead of time the framing of Pasolini's film, there's no getting around that.
Konchalovsky brought much greater depth of feeling to his version than there is in the Kirk Douglas film, but for me, at least, he didn't solve the problem of archaism (he foregrounds the gods, for instance) and the production values are awfully dated.
Thanks, David. Tennyson's poem is a favorite of mine, too, since my youth.
The two films are very different in their endings. It's interesting that just among those two and Tennyson, we see that artists are not settled on how to sit with the ending. They imagine the implications, as said and done, differently.
I think given the origins of our species, journey and returning, or not, or not the same, is an elemental experience
The film hasn't yet opened in Japan. I'm not sure if I will go and see it. It remains to be seen whether it will have much impact. Nolan has his fans here, I gather, but 3-hour Hollywood films haven't done too well recently, I understand.
I don't follow the world of film very closely, and I realise reading your excellent, thoughtful essay that I have never seen a film by Nolan. Accident or design? I don't know.
He’s gotten very big. (In his own mind, too?) That’s when people come for you. I would certainly recommend the small scale but richly inventive Memento. You read what I think of Interstellar. And Oppenheimer is complex history complexly rendered, with multiple outstanding performances. (The scene in the White House between Oppenheimer and Truman, encapsulates both.)
I have been looking forward to your thoughts. We are of like minds but you said it much more eloquently than I ever could. I also love Interstellar and have seen it numerous times. Oppenheimer I liked quite a bit but not sure if it is one I will rewatch much. With The Odyssey I seem to always approach a new translation or adaptation rather than returning to one I have already experienced. I have seen the movies, read several translations, and each experience is new, fresh. The tale is timeless. I enjoyed Nolen's adaptation and I think its greatest victory is how it has stirred up interest in the classics. I doubt it will be a film I return to frequently though. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this one. - Matthew
Matthew, and I've been interested to learn your response to my thoughts, given your own deep dive into The Odyssey. I'm struck by how similar multiple of our responses are. (You, too, love Interstellar!) There's a kind of gut lesson, I think, in our willingness, even eagerness to return to a work, in whole or in part by seeking out favorite passages or dipping into a film already in progress on TV because almost any scene will offer reward even in isolation. As it turns out, as many have hoped, the film and reactions to it have boosted sales and library reserves (especially for Wilson), and in line with my focus on how these moments are created, most publishers prepared themselves to capitalize on the attention for their various translations: https://www.nytimes.com/2026/07/20/books/odyssey-book-editions.html
I must be the last person in my circle who’s waiting for the crowds to subside before seeing Nolan’s Odyssey. Meanwhile I follow the reactions, both critical and casual, with bemusement. People seem to watch this movie through the scrim of expectation and bias. Your essay, unlike most of the others, draws on sustained attention to Homer, Nolan and the historical arc of culture-making. I enjoyed your fusion of the erudite and the personal. While everyone else debates Nolan’s take on Homer, maybe I should settle in with Uberto Pasolini’s, which I’d never heard of until now.
My inclination, Rona, from what I think I know, is to believe that you, like I, will much prefer the Pasolini. For one thing, art lover that you are, it will offer you far more shot-by-shot pleasure.
Oh, I am much behind you, Rona.
I don’t know about that. The last version of the Odyssey to come to my attention might have been a kids’ book from the 50s.
A really fine essay, Jay.
One of the more original takes on "The Odyssey" is Daniel Mendelsohn's own nonfiction book, "An Odyssey: A Father, A Son, and An Epic," which I read during the pandemic and liked very much; its narrative structure is similar to the epic's. Over the course of the college class on the epic that Mendelsohn is teaching, his own 80-something father, Jay, sits and repeatedly questions Odysseus's character - is he a "true hero" or portraying his true self - and gradually their relationship begins to change, in important ways, with the story having started one way and becoming one in which both father and son educate each other about who each is, in the process finally able to "see" that what each thought he knew was not the whole story.
Myths and legends persist for a reason beyond storytelling alone, and as I think Mendelsohn's book shows, if we're perceptive enough, we can take from them insights into both what we get wrong and what we get right about ourselves and those in our lives.
I haven't seen the film, so I can't say it is doing the work that Mendelsohn's book does subtly, or that "The Odyssey" itself does. I do think that the film's arrival now is serendipitous, given what we can identify is happening in our society: ongoing wars, both within and without, banning of books and loss of the humanities as core to education, immigration (what does it mean to belong and be home), lies and deceptions, the turn away from democracy (what we never thought could happen), unease with AI, etc.
By the way, there's at least one photo on Facebook of Wilson's tattoos related to "The Iliad" and "The Odyssey."
I knew of Mendelsohn's memoir but had no idea that was quite the nature of it. That sounds truly fascinating.
You write, "Myths and legends persist for a reason beyond storytelling alone, and as I think Mendelsohn's book shows, if we're perceptive enough, we can take from them insights into both what we get wrong and what we get right about ourselves and those in our lives."
I think that's true. Though of neither myth nor legend, that method of Mendelsohn's memoir puts me in mind of this marvelous poem by Robert Wrigley (which maybe I've shared with you before?), in which a poet son tries to bridge the gap of understanding between himself and his deceased father by reaching the discontinuous connection between their interests, in "Machinery": https://www.thegeorgiareview.com/posts/machinery/
I think what you say about Nolan's film's arrival and the parking of this conversation is true, yet for some, at least, there's an unsurprising blindness demonstrated by their having been provoked by the film. I've likened them to the suitors. Maybe better still is "the sea peoples" of Nolan's film-- the imagined barbaric invaders set to destroy civilization.
Wonderful response, Jay. Thank you.
I will look up that poem.
This was an incredibly incisive analysis of the many aspects of the complicated reception of Nolan's version of the Odyssey. Of course the spectacle of its cost, its distribution, its IMAX frame-size, and Nolan's recent success all came together to create a blockbuster. But I think one reason for the many words that have been written for or against it, is that we all consider the Odyssey our own. It's possibly the most iconic piece of literature in the Western canon. Anyone who's read the Odyssey has its narrative embedded forever in their mind, and already an interior film version fashioned from Homer's words. I've written elsewhere that I don't want my version of it replaced by someone else's. This is a problem I have with many film versions of great books. Why would I want to see Wuthering Heights, or Pride and Prejudice? It's as if the filming of classic literature is a form of Reader's Digest--picking and choosing the bright bits to show and leaving whole swaths behind. That said, I confess to being curious about The Return, but also about Konchalovsky's version too. (Konchalovsky's Siberiade is a film I loved). Anyway, thanks for this far-reaching piece which I'll continue to think about in the next days.
Thanks so much, Brooks. I agree with you. With every beloved work, we all have our internalized version of the world we took from the text, and we all want it brought to life, notwithstanding my comments on that desire. A factor that might work to discourage that anticipation is how much the adaptation in some way announces itself as a creative response as much as adaptation. Once we know ahead of time the framing of Pasolini's film, there's no getting around that.
Konchalovsky brought much greater depth of feeling to his version than there is in the Kirk Douglas film, but for me, at least, he didn't solve the problem of archaism (he foregrounds the gods, for instance) and the production values are awfully dated.
Thanks for this essay, Jay. I have not seen either The Odyssey or The Return.
Tennyson's Ulysses is one of my most favorite poems. So I'm intrigued by how the two films handle what comes after.
There is a profound sadness in not being able to come home again in spirit. Frodo has that affliction when he returns to The Shire.
Looking forward to seeing both movies and then returning to your essay.
Thanks, David. Tennyson's poem is a favorite of mine, too, since my youth.
The two films are very different in their endings. It's interesting that just among those two and Tennyson, we see that artists are not settled on how to sit with the ending. They imagine the implications, as said and done, differently.
I think given the origins of our species, journey and returning, or not, or not the same, is an elemental experience
The film hasn't yet opened in Japan. I'm not sure if I will go and see it. It remains to be seen whether it will have much impact. Nolan has his fans here, I gather, but 3-hour Hollywood films haven't done too well recently, I understand.
I don't follow the world of film very closely, and I realise reading your excellent, thoughtful essay that I have never seen a film by Nolan. Accident or design? I don't know.
He’s gotten very big. (In his own mind, too?) That’s when people come for you. I would certainly recommend the small scale but richly inventive Memento. You read what I think of Interstellar. And Oppenheimer is complex history complexly rendered, with multiple outstanding performances. (The scene in the White House between Oppenheimer and Truman, encapsulates both.)