Introduction
Homer’s ‘The Odyssey’ – a Greek poem composed between 750 and 650 BC and now reimagined in contemporary film – is both a tale communicated to culture and a reflection of the values and concerns of culture. It has served as a marker illustrating the contentions of the times and the form of heroism lauded, or criticized, depending on the contemporary political and socio-economic milieu. Christopher Nolan’s 2026 screenplay of the same title offers one such adaptation in a popular contemporary medium and portrays the images of man and of the gods, both of which are worth considering. First, a note: this short essay does have spoilers and there is a bit of historical information, but it's a worthwhile read (at least I think it is).
I. History of Retelling
Since its composition, ‘The Odyssey’ and culture have been intrinsically linked, mutually affecting change. “From 1100 to 850 BC all the evidence suggests decline” in overseas trade, material culture and creative nerve in Mykenai, Thebes and Pylos. However oral poetry persisted and during a period of recovery and fruition Homer “shaped the trace elements of a lost world into the foundation art of a new one” (Heaney 1922, xiii). “Adaptation has always been at the heart of re-tellings of the Odyssey” (McConnell 2026, 1). Itinerant poets would perform and riff on the great tale, and through the centuries storytellers have carried on this tradition both explicitly and implicitly. Included in this are the likes of Claudio Monteverdi’s ‘Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria’ (1640), Alfred Tennyson’s ‘Ulysses’ (1842) and Ezra Pound’s ‘The Cantos’ (1925) (Heaney 1992, ix; McConnell 2026, 2). James Joyce’s ‘Ulysses’ “shrinks Homer’s landscape to such a precise rendition of early-twentieth-century Dublin” and “the heroic Odysseus becomes the unprepossessing Leopold Bloom who, the reader recognizes over the course of the novel, is heroic in a new way.” This re-presentation of the hero was by no means novel with Joyce. The tale has been not only recontextualized but also repurposed at times with a political bent. Sixteenth-century Portuguese poet Luís de Camões utilized the tale as a model for his imperialistic poem, ‘Os Lusíadas’; in Aimé Césaire’s 1939 poem, ‘Cahier d’un retour au pays natal’, “Odysseus becomes the invading imperialist, mistreating the indigenous inhabitants of a discovered land”; in David Farr’s 2005 theatrical adaptation, Odysseus is depicted as a “refugee desperate to get home but detained by those who believe he is trying to enter their country as an illegal immigrant” and similarly in Fernando Frías de la Parra’s 2019 film, ‘Ya no estoy aquí (McConnell, 2-3). Each of these presents an iteration relevant to its context.
II. Nolan’s Adaptation
In following the tradition of retelling, it is worthwhile to pay attention to where Nolan’s adaptation differs from the source material. Firstly, in Homer’s tale the gods were active characters playing catalytic roles. It is the god Poseidon who opposes Odysseus and his men on the seas, Athena who devises and sends Telemachus to see Menelaus, Hermes who convinces Calypso to free Odysseus, and Athena who leads Odysseus home to Ithaka. Nolan’s film opens with the on-screen text “A time of apparent magic…”, and in the corresponding events Poseidon is merely alluded to with regard the storms, it is Telemachus who devises his journey to see Menelaus, Calypso frees Odysseus because he is “ready” to remember and he awakens on the shores of Ithaka with no aid from Athena mentioned. In fact, Athena plays a role more akin to that of Odysseus’ conscience personified. At one point Odysseus is speaking to Athena, and Calypso asks who he is talking to; at another point Odysseus reaches out and holds Athena’s hand, when the camera turns back to Athena, she is no longer there and Odysseus is reaching out holding nothing. Here we see the relegation of the gods, a truism in the modern west, predicted by Frederick Nietzsche in ‘Thus Spoke Zarathustra’ and evident in the rise in popularity of existentialism, that is “existence preceding essence”, and the move toward post-modernity.
Secondly is Nolan’s portrayal of the state of man. The characters are complex, the heroes are flawed and the victories are called into question. Much of the plot is centered around Odysseus’ inner conflict regarding their siege at Troy. He is presented as a soldier lamenting the battle, recounting the brutality of his men and the dishonourable trickery of his plan. Kirkê, the witch, tells Odysseus to “know his men”, explaining to him that she did not make them pigs, but that is what they are – violent murderers and rapists – and that a commander sees his men’s “savagery as discipline”. When she turns them back into humans, she whispers to them “back into your disguises”. A key motif in the film is ‘Zeus’ Law’, that is to be hospitable to any stranger because they may be a god in disguise. This motif finds its payoff in Antinoös attacking Odysseus who is disguised as a beggar. Another character rebukes Antinoös appealing to Zeus’ law, however Antinoös challenges this rebuke by asking Odysseus if he is, in fact, a god. Here, a person is treated as valuable because they may be a god, not because they are intrinsically valuable. This relegation of the gods and of man culminates in a strikingly different conclusion than that of the source material. Homer’s tale ends with Odysseus reclaiming his throne and restoring order, whereas Nolan’s adaptation has Odysseus sailing away into voluntary exile, along with Penelope.
III. God is Dead
A prevalent aspect of the current cultural climate is portrayed here in the form of a Greek epic, played by a diversity of non-Greek actors, with modern American accents and the gods like a palimpsest. We can hear Nietzsche's Zarathustra proclaiming: “What is the ape to man? A laughing-stock, a thing of shame. And just the same shall man be to the Superman: a laughing-stock, a thing of shame.” The responsibility to attain to the ‘superman’ is illustrated in Nolan’s film through the characters’ wrestles with guilt and shame. The film resolves this appropriately, it seems, as the characters detach from the gods, bear their guilt and shame and find no absolution, but rather exile from the kingdom. Here is the idol of the modern west: man has no need for God; here is the snare: man must save himself. Consider here our secular state – “a situation of fundamental contestability when it comes to belief, a sense that rival stories are always at the door offering a very different account of the world” (Smith 2014, 10). The story on offer? “Once upon a time […] we believed in sprites and fairies and gods and demons. But as we became rational, and especially as we marshaled naturalist explanations for what we used to attribute to spirits and forces, the world became progressively disenchanted” (Smith 2014, 24). So then, what are the implications of Nolan’s story and the wider western milieu?
God, or at least the idea of God, serves as the perfect ideal to which every good thing is pointing – an objective standard and ever-present judge. The ‘death’ of God is, therefore, the death of objectivity, the beginning of relativism and, in the modern west, the beginning of subjectivism. The distinction here is important as under relativism morality, truth and standards of reasoning are relative to their context, whereas in subjectivism they are relative to the individual. The destructive consequences of relativism and subjectivism are many, but Nolan’s story highlights one: the weighty existential burden of subjectivity borne by broken people. Much like Odysseus heroically answering the call to fight for his nation, only to encounter the horrors of war and the human condition, we do what we think is good only to find that what we thought to be good was something else entirely; much like Antinoös attacking the beggar, we knowingly choose evil. Nolan’s Odysseus is akin to Fyodor Dostoevsky’s protagonist in ‘Crime and Punishment’ who is burdened by the weight of his actions, antithetical to that of Homer’s traditional Greek hero – and rightly so! The imagined ideal of Nietzsche’s ‘Superman’ is merely that, imagined, not real. That supposed reality is bleak and far from ideal: the suitors are killed, Odysseus is exiled and we are condemned to bear the consequences of our actions.
IV. The Truth
That is not reality – at least not the fullness of it. The truth is that we HAVE lived apart from God and we ARE condemned to bear the weight of our choices, deceptions and hypocrisies, and our punishment IS, in-fact, death and exile from the Kingdom. BUT – and this is perhaps the most significant ‘but’ – there is more to the story. We cast off God in pursuit of a freedom, apart from the standard of objectivity; when we are confronted with our (in)humanity, we pine for utopia; when we strive toward utopia, we stumble over each other’s selfishness and we sense that something is missing. We turn from God and go our own way in pursuit of individuation, in the grander sense; when we are confronted with our brokenness, we find guilt and shame; when we are confronted with others’ brokenness, we find injustice; we want something to be done, but we can't do it. But this God that we have turned away from has not turned away from us; the Judge offers release from guilt and shame; the King promises justice and mercy. We may have gone so far that we could not possibly get home or fallen too low to possibly get up, the invitation from God is not to strive back to Him, but to turn to Him and He will carry you home. The naturalist ideal promises a utopia conjured up in your own heart, but delivers a snare formed by your own hands. But God’s invitation is simple: 'come to Me all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. I am gentle and humble, and you will find rest for your souls.' Our redemption, restoration and reconciliation are a gift and this is good news – or more appropriately: THE Good News.
References
Heaney, Seamus. Introduction to The Odyssey, by Homer, translated by Robert Fitzgerald, ix-xxiv. Everyman’s Library, 1922.
McConnell, Justine. “Telling Old Stories Anew: Homer’s Odyssey as a Tale of Our Times.” Public Humanities 2 (2026): e62. https://doi.org/10.1017/pub.2026.10170.
Smith, James K.A. 2014. How (Not) to be Secular: Reading Charles Taylor. WM. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.