“The Odyssey” of the Ego

As expected, Christopher Nolan has made another movie in full “no one said no” mode, resulting in an action-spectacle juggernaut that leaves humanity, charm, and a little humor on the cutting-room floor—along with any sense of narrative rhythm or bladder consideration.

It is always give-and-take with this unchecked, brilliant, and frustrating filmmaker: for every extraordinarily grotesque Polyphemus encounter and riveting grand-scale Fall of Troy sequence, there are two hours of frantic pacing, typical Nolan-obsessed nonlinearity, and emotional sterility.

Overly stoic performances recite words off the screenplay without making dynamic choices. Matt Damon is Matt Damon with a grimace, Robert Pattinson is a one-dimensional snake, and Tom Holland plays a Greek column. Only John Leguizamo as Eumaeus—Odysseus’s blind, faithful servant—displays full emotional commitment.

The female roles unsurprisingly get overshadowed by a man’s world, but Samantha Morton as Circe is an enthralling standout. Really, in true Christopher Nolan fashion, all the characters are tale tellers, telling a tale previously told by another tale teller in non-sequential order.

Where I thought Nolan’s directing got in his screenplay’s way in Tenet, I think the flip is true with this one. It is a journey of exposition—story first, special effects next, and feelings maybe later.

I get it—this is Nolan’s “Odyssey,” not Homer’s, but Homer made sure a human quest for oneself was included in the epic. Nolan and his new best film composer friend, Ludwig Göransson, pierce your eyes and ears with an epic spear.

Perhaps the parting of the sensory is worth it during the surprise ambush of the Laestrygonians or the haunting unearthing of Hades.

But Nolan’s commendable directorial power is found during the quieter moments. The Trojan Horse scene is a masterclass in silent suspense, focusing on the agonizing tension inside the claustrophobic wooden structure, in which soldiers can hear their heartbeats.

The key issue is tone. Fun, unbridled adventure is replaced with cold-steel-rail drabness. Who knew the “Hero’s Journey” could be such a restroom-demanding drag?

“They’ll never take our freedom!” and “Unleash hell!” blasted high-octane cinematic adrenaline in the theater back in the day.

“No one could stand between me and home. Not even the gods!” comes from Damon in more of a self-doubting whimper.

It isn’t a matter of cinema vs. popcorn spectacle. It’s the fact that Nolan thinks he can make both, and we all know he’s no god.

The Odyssey (2026) ***