The Odyssey retells the 3,000-year-old Greek legend of Odysseus’ fraught journey home. The film is epic, has surprising depth, and is cleaner than its source material. But The Odyssey is R-rated for a reason, and includes lots of violence, a smattering of harsh language, disturbing moments and plenty of pagan spirituality.
The man is lost.
He spends his days walking the sandy shores of the island he washed upon some time ago, marooned by storm and sea, and he stares at the rolling waves. His only companion is beautiful Calypso, who nursed his battered body back to health and offered him a home.
But something calls to him from across the water. He does not know what it is. His memory is as murky as the ocean depths, offering, at most, fleeting images of the life that once was his. And yet, he still feels the call—something that speaks directly to his heart.
Then, he starts to remember. He is Odysseus. King of Ithaca. Warrior. Husband. Father.
He remembers what he longed to remember. What he longed to forget. And those he left behind. He must return to his home. To his family.
Across the sea, Odysseus’ family longs for his return—though little hope remains. Odysseus set sail for the Trojan War nearly 20 years earlier. He never returned. Whether he is dead or alive, the vultures circle his household all the same.
Scores of suitors have invaded Odysseus’ palace. They seek to marry his wife, Penelope, and in the meantime content themselves wasting his wealth by feasting and drinking. They despise Odysseus’ son, Telemachus, and they plot his death.
Penelope and Telemachus have held out for as long as they can. If Odysseus does not return soon, his house—and his family—will fall.
A major difference between director Christopher Nolan’s Odysseus and the Odysseus of, say, the written translation of The Odyssey that I recently reviewed, is that the movie version of the hero is much more, well, heroic. While movie Odysseus is far from flawless—he still is stubborn and vengeful—he is far less consumed by pride and possesses a stronger moral center.
While the Odysseus of Homer’s original tale is delighted by his own cleverness, movie Odysseus has a more complicated opinion of his deceitful talents. Though his trickery won the Trojan War, he struggles with his actions and worries that he may have (if I may borrow from another Greek mythological tale) opened Pandora’s Box. He is a devoted husband and father—and far more faithful to his wife than earlier iterations of the character. He cares for the soldiers under his charge and wants desperately to help them get home. And, from the brief glimpses we see of him before the Trojan War, he seems like a just and responsible ruler.
Penelope faithfully awaits Odysseus’s return, even though she faces enormous pressure to cave to the suitors who want to marry her. Telemachus readily welcomes beggars into his home, giving them food and shelter. Each member of Odysseus’ family has a fierce love for one another. A handful of servants remain faithful to Odysseus’ household despite the abuse they receive from Penelope’s suitors, sometimes even risking their own lives in an effort to protect the honor of the house.
The Odyssey carries the theme of hospitality and treating guests with honor, even those on the lowest rungs of society.
It won’t surprise you to learn that The Odyssey is infused with Greek mythology. Zeus, Poseidon and other members of the Greek pantheon are referenced. The goddesses Athena and Calypso make appearances on screen (though the latter is treated in the film more like a human woman than a goddess). Odysseus carries a small idol of Athena with him throughout his travels—a gift from Penelope to “bring [him] safety.” Gods are said to be understood through “signs in the world.” People worship in a pagan temple. Others claim the gods help in achieving military victory. And we see plenty of statues and idols.
Characters frequently refer to what they call “Zeus’ Law,” a command of hospitality and kind treatment to guests, even beggars. This is done, in part, because the Greeks believe that their guests could be “gods in disguise.” Someone says that the “power of the sacrifice is in the cost of the person who makes it.”
Odysseus appeals to Zeus’ Law, but he seems to hold to it more as a practical rule of honor than a religious conviction, and he warns someone not to “look for gods in men.” While he acknowledges the gods, Odysseus is far from a faithful adherent. He tells his soldiers that they “can’t rely on omens and sacrifices” and that “the gods help those who help themselves.” And he complains that, when the gods speak, they do so in ways that humans can’t understand.
Despite this, Odysseus witnesses a lot of supernatural power and magic. In one grotesque scene, a witch turns a group of men into pigs. Odysseus and his men venture to Hades, where they perform a pagan blood ritual to summon and speak to the dead. The spirit of a dead man prophesies—and it comes true. A woman seems to have some prophetic insight. People encounter giants and monsters.
Then there are other instances where the involvement of the supernatural is left more ambiguous. In Homer’s Odyssey, Odysseus angers Poseidon, which results in storms and treacherous seas. In the film, Odysseus’ crew come to believe he has angered the god, but their misfortune could also be a matter of chance. Even the direct conversations Odysseus has with Athena are made a bit ambiguous by the time the credits roll.
Interestingly, for all its mythological influence, Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey is overlaid with something closer to a Judeo-Christian worldview. One character describes Zeus’ Law in a way that sounds very similar to the “Golden Rule” that Jesus lays out in Matthew 7:12.
Odysseus’ moral compass is a closer match to a more modern understanding of heroism (as influenced by Christian theology) than the more self-serving traits valued in Ancient Greece. A pivotal turning point for his character is described as a “leap of faith,” a trial where the obstinate Odysseus must submit to a greater power to move forward—and this trial resembles a baptism of sorts.
Now, this is far from a Christian, or even Christian-adjacent, film. Like the source material, Odysseus is a man who has done (and will go on to do) terrible things. But this version of the character certainly contains less pride and more mercy.
Odysseus and Penelope have an emotional conversation in bed before things take a sensual turn: They hold each other close and share a few passionate kisses before the scene cuts away. The pair love each other deeply, a love that endures the nearly 20 years that Odysseus is away.
That said, for seven of those years, Odysseus was with the goddess Calypso, who saved him and came to love him. While their relationship is implied to be romantic, Odysseus suffers from significant memory loss and is not knowingly unfaithful to Penelope. (In contrast, Homer’s Odysseus doesn’t have amnesia … or much of a commitment to marital fidelity.)
Penelope’s suitors seek her hand in marriage, for her beauty and wealth. One suitor, Antinous, tries to seduce her through flattery and false acts of nobility.
When someone says that “love is not a sacrifice,” their spouse replies, “Of course it is.”
A husband (in his underwear) and his wife are in bed together before things take a violent turn. Sirens in sheer clothing are glimpsed at a distance. There are a few instances of male rear nudity. A woman wears a garment with a neckline that plunges to her navel. A humanoid monster is quite clearly naked, though nothing critical is seen.
One of Penelope’s servants and a suitor kiss passionately. Odysseus is seen shirtless a few times. A few women wear revealing clothing.
I’ll say this for The Odyssey: For all the violence found in the film, it generally avoids being gratuitous. Blood is kept to a relative minimum, and certain extreme acts of violence (such as a beheading) are suggested rather than shown.
That said, this is still a very violent film. People are speared, stabbed, hacked with swords and shot with arrows. Soldiers ransack the city of Troy, killing everyone in sight, men and women alike. Monsters devour their victims—though much is obscured, it still looks and feels grisly. Buildings burn and collapse into heaps of rubble. Odysseus himself is bloodied and beaten during his journey.
Telemachus is under constant threat from his mother’s suitors. They regularly try to bait him into a conflict so they might kill him and plot his demise when he sets out to find word of his father.
The sorcery used by a witch to turn men into pigs is disturbing and looks quite painful as she “molds” their bodies into animal form. Her back yard is strewn with armor, suggesting that these men are far from the first visitors she’s so changed (and, perhaps, eaten). She suggests that her magic reveals the bestial nature of man, and her reaction to their visiting her isolated island is one of abject fear (either real or feigned), suggesting that she’s seen soldiers rape and pillage before.
A soldier enchanted by the Siren’s song dives into the ocean and swims toward the sound, presumably to his own demise.
Odysseus says that Agamemnon, the king of Mycenae (and Odysseus’ overlord), sacrificed his own daughter; later, we see Agamemnon’s wife murder him in revenge. A monster has a speared stabbed into its eye and we hear its screams of pain.
Bandits kill one man and beat another. Sailors endure violent storms on the ocean. People drown. Killers pose as priests and set an ambush for someone. A man drinks poison and dies.
It’s implied that a king scarred his wife after she was unfaithful to him. We are told that soldiers have raped and pillaged. Someone requests that a man’s nose and ears be brought to identify him as proof of his death. A denizen of an island is blinded by a burning log, and then shot in the eye again—almost out of spite.
A dog is abused, and few others are killed—we see the dogs’ bones being burned in the aftermath. Other animals are slain for sacrifices or during hunts. Odysseus shoots a boar with an arrow; before the boar dies, it wounds his leg.
There are three uses of the f-word. The s-word is used once. Additional profanity includes “d–n,” “b–tard” and “p-ss.”
Men and women drink and revel at feasts. A few characters get drunk. Someone eats a “lotus flower,” which causes memory loss.
Odysseus wrestles with guilt from his actions during the Trojan War. Throughout the film, he seems to struggle with a form of post-traumatic stress.
Though Odysseus protects his crew from the Siren’s song, he has himself tied to his ship’s mast so he can listen to it. He later describes the song as “all the things you ever want it to be, then all the things you wish you never wished for.”
Penelope is betrayed by one of her servants. Odysseus lies to people to test their loyalty and to strategize.
Homer’s Odyssey has had no shortage of adaptations over the last 3,000 years (give or take). Now, director Christopher Nolan gives us his own take on the classic tale with 2026’s The Odyssey.
The film has been embroiled in controversy, whether that has revolved around casting choices or even the translation of the Odyssey that Nolan used to craft his script. For my part, I worried that the gratuitous content that crept into Nolan’s previous blockbuster (and Best Picture winner) Oppenheimer might find purchase in a story that has plenty of problematic content on its own.
But I was pleasantly surprised at how Nolan navigated a challenging story, taking care to largely avoid gratuity. He doesn’t revel in the war and bloodshed: This Odysseus doesn’t boast about sacking the city of Troy, he’s haunted by it. Nolan excludes much of the sexual content found in the source material. And he minimizes the visible influence of the Greek gods on the story in favor of more ambiguity and even flavors the film with more of a Judeo-Christian worldview.
And from a filmmaking perspective, well, you just don’t get many movies like this nowadays. The scope is sweeping, the cinematography is grand and the performances are excellent. This is a film that truly lives up to the “epic” label.
Like Odysseus, The Odyssey contains multitudes. Make no mistake, The Odyssey earns its R-rating. It’s full of violence, has some disturbing moments, a smattering of harsh language and the story is rooted in pagan mythology. Those issues will have many families rightfully declining to take this voyage.
But mature viewers who choose to sail may find some unexpected depths in this adventure.
Bret loves a good story—be it a movie, show, or video game—and enjoys geeking out about things like plot and story structure. He has a blast reading and writing fiction and has penned several short stories and screenplays. He and his wife love to kayak the many beautiful Colorado lakes with their dog.
