Opinion: From Film Soleil to Film Noir, Nolan’s The Odyssey
Christopher Nolan remains faithful to Homer's intentions by using Film Noir aesthetics to expose the darker moral complexities of war, heroism and human nature, rather than glorifying them
By T Sreenivasa Prabhu
It’s a Herculean task even to attempt any work related to the classics or epics depicting myths and legends, whether on paper, stage or screen. And it could be excruciating when the attempt is to present an ancient narrative from a modern perspective. That is why Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey is facing criticism, both adverse and appreciative, across the world today.
The main controversy revolves around Nolan’s portrayal of Helen as a dark-skinned woman, or a person of African descent, and for distorting the original source material by glorifying Odysseus as heroic and noble, whereas Homer intended him to be arrogant and conceited. This article attempts to show that Nolan has only tried to complement Homer’s work by taking us back to Film Noir from the more recent Film Soleil.
Dark As Dark
Film Noir, as every film buff knows, depicts crime or anything evil in dark shadows, much like in the black-and-white crime movies of the 50s featuring bad boys in trench coats, hats covering half of the faces and so on. And essentially, the villain or the perpetrator gets punished in the end, to establish poetic justice. However, the screen narrative has evolved with modern needs. Crime is no longer portrayed through dark shadows and gloom, but in bright light. This is called Film Soleil. The French word soleil means ‘sun’ or ‘sunlight’. This new genre also makes viewers empathise with the protagonist, who defies the law or established social norms, and even gets rewarded in the end.
Nolan, however, uses Film Noir to depict dark as dark and evil as evil without sugar-coating. He has no qualms in showing the Greek warriors as pigs, though he uses the witch Circe to convey the bitter truth, just like Shakespeare uses the clown to convey uncomfortable truths.
Criticism that Nolan distorts the original source stems from our tendency to ignore the dark side, even of the gods, who are often shown as prone to lust and evil deeds
The Greek warriors and heroes, long glorified and even deified in many movies, are exposed as beasts by the gluttonous way they chew and swallow in Nolan’s narrative. Circe’s spell, which makes them behave in this way, is only to make viewers swallow the bitter truth about the bestiality of those who commit deadly sins in the name of military campaigns.
Her objections to carrying weapons are not found in the original text. Nolan takes the liberty to express his loathing for war. This is a healthy breakaway from the classics, and young netizens today have begun questioning why so many soldiers’ lives should be sacrificed in large-scale wars, and why things cannot instead be decided through a duel between the disputing kings, or, in today’s world, politicians.
The very opening scene of the film, in which the giant wooden horse is dragged by the Trojans, shows their dark greed that makes them fail to see the trick. The 40-foot-tall horse seems to block the sunlight, and in fact the Trojans’ discretion. Augmented by Ludwig Goransson’s gothic musical score, the scene helps viewers feel how the Trojans drag their own destruction and death into their citadel. Here, Nolan’s choice of both sight and sound perfectly communicates the eeriness of the episode.
The Dark Side
The criticism about Nolan distorting the original source material has its roots in the way we have always preferred to ignore the dark side, even of the gods, who, in most classical works, are shown as being prone to lust and evil deeds. In Ramayana, Lord Indra, the king of gods, arrives disguised as Brahmarshi Gautama to seduce his wife Ahalya. Similarly, Zeus arrives in the form of a swan to seduce Queen Leda, the wife of King Tyndareus, resulting in Helen’s birth.
The intention of Homer and all classical writers might only be to warn humans to be cautious of sinful desires. Yet evil is evil, whether committed by gods or mortals. To show this dark fact behind Helen’s birth, Nolan chooses the dark complexion for her. Dark skin, or the colour black, does have its merits, like strength and beauty.
Without night and a starlit sky, the glaring sun would only have a blinding effect. Lord Krishna and Lord Rama are both praised as ‘neela megha’, possessing the beautiful hue of dark rain clouds. Helen’s depiction as an African woman also shows her strength in bearing all the blame for the ten-year long war and its devastation. It is also a much-needed departure from the archaic association of white skin with beauty and fairness.
Like Homer, Nolan also portrays Odysseus as arrogant and conceited. When the Cyclops is blinded, drunk and helpless, and Odysseus and his followers are safe, there is absolutely no need to shoot him with a vengeful arrow. Even his own men despise his defence of this act as a revenge for the killing of their companions. With his cruelty and arrogance thus established, there is no need for an anthropomorphic Poseidon to curse him with destructive storms and years of wandering at sea. All this happens as the physical fury of the ocean rather than as divine punishment.
After returning to Ithaca, instead of revealing himself to Penelope immediately, Odysseus remains hidden beneath a beggar’s cloak, only to satisfy his innate desire to show off his strength and humiliate the suitors during the archery contest. It is we who tend to see the character through Matt Damon’s persona, while Nolan tries to portray Odysseus just as Homer intended: vile, conceited and arrogant. Thus Christopher Nolan’s odyssey from Film Soleil to Film Noir succeeds in complementing, rather than distorting, Homer’s classic.
(The author is a retired English Lecturer and film reviewer)
