Christopher Nolan’s film adaptation of “The Odyssey” was the first of its kind to be fully shot in IMAX, but it was the one millionth film of its kind to use women as props while following a man on an epic journey. Nolan is already notorious for writing underdeveloped female characters, but with a cast of women like Zendaya, I was certain we were in for a truly revolutionary take on an age-old story. Boy, was I wrong.
Zendaya’s Athena had many, including me, excited to see “The Odyssey” in theaters. Unfortunately, her role in the film was small and uninspired compared to the role Athena plays in Homer’s original poem. We saw very little from film Athena, even though in the original work she is a driving force for Odysseus’ return home. In the epic, Athena convinces Zeus to allow Odysseus to return to Ithaca. She also appears to Telemachus and persuades him to confront his mother’s many suitors.
Throughout the original written work, Athena is always working behind the scenes to reunite Odysseus with his family and his homeland. She is not simply there to give Odysseus pep talks, she actively moves the story forward. Nolan’s film reduces her to a background character, simply supporting the men as they do the heavy lifting rather than playing an active role in the narrative. For a character who is instrumental in Odysseus’ return home, her absence is notable.
To Nolan’s credit, Calypso, the sea nymph who traps Odysseus on her island, is markedly different in the film. In the original work, she only lets Odysseus go after being persuaded by Zeus, who is convinced by Athena, I might add. In the film, Calypso lets her prisoner go out of true care for him. Nolan’s rendition on this part of the story gives the goddess much more depth than the original work.
This change gives her a more complex emotional presence rather than simply being another obstacle for Odysseus to overcome. I have to give credit where credit is due, but I will not be praising Nolan further. This is one of the very few instances where any of his changes to a female character actually benefit her.
Unfortunately, the same attention was not given to Helen of Troy, played by Lupita Nyong’o. Helen was just as uninspired as most of his female characters. I’ll hold for shocked gasps.
When Helen first appears in the original poem, she narrates her own story of the war. She laments her role in starting the Trojan War but also recognizes her own intelligence. She recalls how she attempted to force the Greeks in the Trojan horse to reveal themselves by calling out to them in the voices of their wives. She also recognizes Telemachus before anyone else when he visits Sparta.
She is a dimensional, cunning and clever character who understands the people around her deeply and holds true regret for her wrongdoings. Still, Nolan reduces her to a minor role in a story that is as much hers as it is any other characters. In the film, she shows up very infrequently and is presented as nothing more than “the face that launched a thousand ships.”
This is the true problem I have with Nolan’s female characters. It’s not simply that these women have less screen time than their male counterparts, it’s that so much of their agency and identity is removed with that screen time. None of these women get to tell their own story. None of them are given their most notable moments of intelligence. Though the changes I’m describing may seem small individually, put together they create a story where women exist only in relation to the men around them.
Nolan’s Penelope also lacks some important depth outlined in the poem. In the film, Penelope is all too willing to believe that Odysseus has returned home, trusting his word above all else. In the poem, she is not so easily convinced. In an iconic test of identity, Penelope requests that a servant move her bed.
To most, it is an innocuous request, but Penelope knows the real Odysseus is the only man who would know the bed cannot be moved. Odysseus built their bedroom around a living olive tree and carved the bed out of its trunk. When Odysseus remarks that there is no way to move the bed, Penelope is finally convinced that this is her long-lost husband, and they finally embrace.
While cutting out this scene seems rather benign, I think it speaks to Nolan’s larger use of women as props. The Penelope of the original work is skeptical of the stranger who claims to be her husband, as any woman would be. She tests him, and she doesn’t simply take his word for it.
Film Penelope, however, is easily convinced becuase it makes the story easier for the man at the center of it. This scene has been an iconic and well analyzed part of the story, and cutting it is a detriment to film Penelope’s intelligence.
Anne Hathaway herself told ScreenRant “I feel like by that point of the film, the momentum of the film is with wondering whether or not Odysseus is going to live.”
In my opinion, this defense makes the choice that much worse.
All I can hear is that Nolan was so sure the audience would be so much more interested in Odysseus’s story (because he spent the entire movie focused on one man), that he didn’t think an iconic part of the epic featuring a woman posing a clever test was worth adding an extra five minutes to an already three-hour-long film.
That’s what frustrates me most. “The Odyssey” is not just a story about Odysseus, it is a story about the people waiting for him, challenging him and fighting for him. Athena is essential to his journey, and Penelope is essential to his homecoming.
His son Telemachus’ journey is shaped by his encounter with Helen, guidance from Athena and his relationship with his mother. Every woman in Homer’s original work has their own story, motivation and role in the larger world of the epic. Removing their identity and agency does not simply make the story more focused on Odysseus, it changes what the story is about.
What is history without women? What are our favorite stories without women? Answered simply, nothing. Nothing exists without women. So why are we so comfortable erasing them from media? Why do we continue to accept stories where women are present but not pivotal? Because yes, it is that deep. The women of history, yes, even fictional ones, deserve to be more than scenery in someone else’s story.