Chastity, gesture and enlarged pores: will women also love Nolan’s epic? | Odyssey

toA long time ago, almost as long ago as Homer wrote The Odyssey, I was a film critic for the Sunday Telegraph. People sometimes ask me how sexist the scene was at that time Bronze age In the mid-2000s, when male critics outnumbered female critics by about eight to one. Well, there was no sexism. It was really good and everyone was really nice.

They were nice in Soho, anyway. Further, less than that. Especially some readers, when it comes to certain films, produced by certain directors. Obviously Quentin Tarantino. Ken Loach, oddly enough. And Christopher Nolan. Doubt their genius and prepare for an epic correction by a group of self-appointed vigilantes.

I had forgotten about it until 2020, when Peter Bradshaw was away and I reviewed Nolan’s sci-fi drama Tenet. I really didn’t like it and was duly warned. I’ve since deleted a lot of the comments I received at the time, but an old Reddit thread gives flavour: “silly cow”, “bitter”, “probably feminist”; “I can guarantee the bird was a mess when I wrote that review lol”; “Women make decisions based on emotion, not logic.”

It’s not Nolan’s fault that some of his fans are so emotional that they insult strangers online for reviewing a movie they want to see. It’s also not his fault that his films, at least the ones following The Dark Knight, tend to be better with men.

Of course, this shouldn’t stop women from reviewing them. Whether it’s Bridget Jones, The Football Factory or The Zone of Interest, art shows you a life different from your own. Dealing with things that aren’t a mirror, or that may not be your target demographic, is kind of important.

However, the only review I’ve read so far of The Odyssey that I generally agree with was by Stephanie Zacharek for Time magazine. Maybe it wasn’t so much of a spoiler now, but she didn’t really like it. Meanwhile, the vast majority of reviews have been complimentary, and the vast majority are written by men (an eight-to-one ratio seems a bit optimistic these days).

And so I can’t help but wonder, to paraphrase what a journalist unlikely to be first in line on opening weekend said: Will women go to see “The Odyssey”? And if they did, would they enjoy it as much as men? (Indeed, if Carrie Bradshaw saw it, she would understandably be appalled by an inevitable byproduct of a high-definition IMAX camera: everyone’s pores are so enormous. Watching scenes with a lot of close-ups is like looking at yourself in one of those 12x magnifying mirrors—that is, annoying.)

However, do women see their experiences represented with the depth, accuracy, or interest of their male counterparts? Because even the most enthusiastic reviews – and certainly those reviews by classicists – seem to agree that women (not, historically, Nolan’s strong point) get a fair amount of the difficulty in the film.

Some examples. Athena Zendaya – one of the truly supreme goddesses – has almost nothing to do here but the vague shadow of Odysseus, modeled after the veiled Scottish widows, nodding quietly, and occasionally shaking their heads sadly, like a teacher telling you they’re not angry, just frustrated.

Likewise, Charlize Theron’s Calypso only serves as a sounding board, wandering behind him in the sand with drinks and lotuses. It is suggested that the flowers were secretly used to prevent Odysseus from remembering his identity. The movie doesn’t mention that she kept him as a sex slave for eight years. Homer Calypso is a great part. Nolan is a woman who runs a beach bar and is considering turning to psychotherapy.

These changes constantly make women either more boring or more crazy. The scenes begin with Samantha Morton’s Circe promisingly, cooking a feast for Odysseus’ men in her historic hut (good spoons, no TV) before vengefully turning them all into pigs. Odysseus comes, changes what she has done, and persuades her to reverse the spell not through a year of sex and complex rhetoric—as in the poem—but with just a quick word, acknowledging that men can be terrible, but these are not so bad, as it is.

Such changes are not related to women, of course. It’s about Matt Damon’s hero, who changes from a smarm to a nice feminist – as well as a great warrior man (an additional scene involving beating up some goons disguised as priests is truly outrageous).

Fortunately, I haven’t reviewed The Odyssey, because I can only imagine Zacharek’s social media status. But as it storms the box office this weekend, I wonder how many in the audience might feel a little alienated — and a little nervous about saying so.