Christopher Nolan adapting The Odyssey as his follow-up to the Oscar-winning Oppenheimer has ignited both anticipation and debate, especially after news broke that Matt Damon will portray Odysseus. As speculation swirls about how Nolan will bring this ancient epic to contemporary cinema, Harvard University’s Professor Gregory Nagy, a renowned scholar in classical Greek literature, reveals the interpretative hurdles and ominous complexities woven into the story.
Nolan Steps Into Epic Territory With The Odyssey
Nolan’s venture into adapting Homer’s The Odyssey is commanding attention, not only due to his reputation as one of today’s most innovative directors but also because of the source material’s legendary status. Following the critical success of Oppenheimer, his new project faces the daunting task of condensing a 12,000-line poem—brimming with gods, monsters, and the profound trauma of heroism—into just a few cinematic hours. Every new detail, from Tom Holland’s appearance in Greek armor to casting announcements, stirs widespread curiosity, signaling immense expectations from audiences and critics alike.
Gregory Nagy sheds light on the original context and spirit of The Odyssey, cautioning that its adaptation entails profound challenges. The ancient poem was experienced very differently by early audiences, and much of its original intent might not translate into a blockbuster framework. Nagy, celebrated for his lifelong study of both The Iliad and The Odyssey, points out that bringing such ancient narratives to life requires more than updating the visuals or emphasizing action—it involves grappling with the poem’s intricate themes and cultural roots.
Transforming The Odyssey: Beyond Blockbuster Spectacle
Although The Odyssey seems ideal for big-screen spectacle, with Odysseus’s journeys populated by monsters, gods, and perilous adventures, Nagy stresses that adapting it for modern film involves fundamental compromises. In his words,
“what we think of as plot is very different.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. He emphasizes the importance of recognizing the myth’s original social context, noting,
“can’t even deal with traditional myth without thinking of the traditional society that generated the myth.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
For Nagy, casting The Odyssey purely as thrilling entertainment distances it greatly from its earliest purposes, even if, as he puts it,
“what almost everybody can agree on is that it’s a very good narrative.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. He encourages audiences to envision how, for the poem’s original listeners, The Odyssey was an exploration of big existential questions:
“Imagine a situation where a traditional society has a view of the cosmos … this tells [us] about the workings of [it.]”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Nagy explains that The Odyssey likely took shape nearly 2,700 years ago—centuries before written language recorded these narratives—emerging through oral tradition. He challenges the notion that the epic was ever intended solely as a “story,” clarifying,
“I’ll say ‘narrative’, because if we say ‘story’, it’s something that we don’t have to accept as truth.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. Ultimately, the Odyssey’s purpose was less to divert an audience with adventure than to offer a lens on the universe and humanity’s place within it.
The Challenge of Casting Matt Damon as Odysseus
With Matt Damon set as Odysseus, much discussion surrounds whether his star persona matches the layered Greek hero. When Nagy learned of Damon’s involvement, his initial reaction was, “Okay, fine.” —Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. Yet, the scholar is quick to point out the complexities involved:
“The character of Odysseus is very complex.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Diving into Odysseus’s decades-long journey, Nagy notes,
“Odysseus is 20 years away from home in terms of the narrative,”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. highlighting that, by the time of his return, both he and Penelope are not young. The narrative expects a transformation rooted in the supernatural:
“That would make him middle-aged, or even on the side of older age. And, similarly, Penelope would be getting along in years too.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Yet, as Nagy recounts, when Odysseus reunites with Penelope, cosmic forces make him appear rejuvenated:
“And yet, it’s very important in the Odyssey as I study it, that when Odysseus gets back together with Penelope, he becomes so good-looking that he looks like a 20-year-old bridegroom, and even his son says, ‘Wow, Dad. I can’t believe it.’ He looks like the sun, practically. There’s so much cosmic intervention.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Nagy underscores that, in the story, Odysseus disguises himself as a beggar to test those around him, moving
“from the highest in the social scale – which is the king – all the way to as low as you can go. In terms of traditional societies, he should be despised as an inferior human.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. Crucially, the transformation is both physical and moral:
“The big lesson is that he is – may I put it this way – beautiful on the inside, but ugly on the outside. And when he finally becomes the ‘real’ Odysseus, then he’s beautiful on the inside and outside, supposedly.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. With Damon’s well-known, charismatic screen presence, achieving this duality on film will test even Nolan’s cinematic ingenuity.
Moral Dilemmas: Will The Darkest Parts Make The Screen?
Nagy highlights a pivotal challenge facing any screen adaptation: the ethical gray zones Odysseus inhabits, particularly deeds modern viewers might deem war crimes. He asks pointedly,
“And then, there [is] the problem of war crimes. How is the movie going to handle that?”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. Nagy argues the epic does not gloss over Odysseus’s darker acts:
“can prove to you that even The Odyssey is aware of a very, very questionable few moments in Odysseus’ life.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
One episode stands out:
“where he actually kills a child in war. How do you like that? And what are we going to do with it? Is Matt Damon going to kill a kid?”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. Nagy questions how cinema might approach these aspects:
“How the hell are you going to do that in a movie?”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
He explains that, among the Phaeacians, Odysseus reveals his epic history only gradually:
“He’s this total stranger who’s washed up onshore, but the royalty is suspecting he’s an important guy, so they don’t ask who he is; they just give him a very fancy dinner.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. In one retelling, Odysseus orchestrates the fall of Troy with the Trojan Horse, and, Nagy relates,
“when Troy finally is captured, Odysseus himself takes the child of Hector and Andromache, who are the nicest people in The Iliad … to the highest point in Troy, and throws the baby to his death.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
The emotional aftermath is profound:
“when the blind singer gets to the part where the boy is captured … and Odysseus is going to go up and commit a war crime, the narrative stops and says, ‘While Odysseus was listening to this, he started crying. He was weeping and weeping and weeping, just like a captive woman when her child was killed.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Nagy argues these moments reveal a deep difference between ancient and modern ideas of heroism:
“I spent all my life telling young people, ‘Don’t use the word hero the way we use it when you think about ancient heroes.’ Ancient heroes, unlike the way we use the word, are not admirable in morality all the time. They’re just larger than life. So when they’re moral [say] 90% of the time, fine, then we really admire them. But there’s always at least a 10%–I’m making up the percentages–[where] they do morally questionable [or] horrific things.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Departures From Text: Lessons From Previous Adaptations
While Nolan’s Odyssey is unlikely to perfectly mirror Homer’s text, Nagy notes that previous adaptations have also grappled with history versus spectacle. He points to Wolfgang Petersen’s 2004 film Troy, critiquing its foundation on contested archaeological interpretations:
“[Petersen] followed the teachings of a very important archaeologist,”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University, even though
“that guy had all sorts of theories that today’s archaeologists won’t accept anymore.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Nagy found Troy
“hardly a reconstruction of what really happened.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. He references how the film’s vision of Troy, dominated by a sprawling citadel, was historically inaccurate:
“imagined that what he was excavating wasn’t just the citadel, but essentially the outlying area, and that the whole thing was almost like a modern city dominated by a citadel.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
The film’s removal of divine influence marked a dramatic shift:
“This director, who’s a very smart person [and] very artistic, got so involved in the way this person reconstructed Troy as if the Homeric Iliad really were history, [and] naturally, one of the things that would happen is, ‘Well, then we can’t have gods … If The Iliad is history, let’s remove them.’”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. This omission traded metaphysical weight for realism, sidestepping the poem’s explanations of fate and cosmic order, elements Nagy argues are crucial to Homeric storytelling.
Disney’s Mythic Revisions: How Hercules Lost Its Origins
Disney’s 1997 Hercules also comes under Nagy’s scrutiny, as he recognizes both artistic achievement and mythological flaws. He commends certain aspects, stating
“there [are] some beautiful things in it.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University, but finds its handling of Hercules’s parentage lacking. Nagy points out,
“is that Herc–as he’s called in the movie–is the son of Zeus, but he’s not the son of Hera. For God’s sake, that’s the whole point.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
He further clarifies,
“Heroes have to have mortality in their genes. You can’t just have two certified immortal gods have a kid, because then there would be a constant overthrowing of gods.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. The myth requires Hercules to be born of a mortal woman, which confers upon him his mortality. Disney sidesteps this foundational detail, in Nagy’s view, because
“Disney Studios can’t have an illegitimate child.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
He contends that this change undermines Hercules’s mythic status:
“[In Disney’s Hercules,] Zeus and Hera are the real mom and dad, which means that the heroic status of Hercules is undermined.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. Nevertheless, Nagy praises the film’s brief but profound depiction of tragedy through silhouette:
“There’s a retelling of a part of Meg’s life in silhouettes, in shadow theater, and that’s almost a perfect retelling of [the classic] tragedy The Trojan Woman, which is really about another phase of Heracles’ life.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Praise continues for artistic choices:
“And there are a lot of things like that in Disney films, So, maybe the studio had to have Herc as a legitimate child of Zeus and Hera, which kind of messes up the whole mythological cosmos. There are other things that are very moving and very deep. And I love the way [the Muses] look like the Supremes in their prime. It’s brilliant. Just drop dead brilliant.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Advice For Nolan And Modern Filmmakers Taking On The Odyssey
When asked what guidance he would offer to Nolan or any filmmaker tackling The Odyssey, Nagy emphasizes the value of cinematic tools in capturing the epic’s metaphysical scope:
“I would take, especially dream sequences, [and] really have fun with how film can convey the meta-natural … I don’t like to say supernatural, but superhuman.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Nagy also encourages a nuanced portrayal of moral complexity:
“If somebody commits a war crime, then you say, ‘Oh, you’re not my hero anymore,’ that’s crazy, because that’s expecting a hundred percent perfection of humans, which is exactly what this medium is exploring. We’re sort of purging our emotional being.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. He cautions directors not to be trapped by contemporary understandings of morality:
“Maybe the trick would be not to be too little-minded, and not to humor the ‘moral standards’ of today.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Nagy asserts that both Odysseus and his story are rich with ambiguity and contradiction:
“If Odysseus is a complex character, you can figure that the plot of the Odyssey is also complex.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University. This complexity invites filmmakers to grapple with timeless questions rather than simple heroism.
With Christopher Nolan’s reputation for layered storytelling, audiences might expect an adaptation that honors these complexities. Nagy, for his part, is eagerly anticipating the result:
“I love film, and so I will take anything.”
—Gregory Nagy, Francis Jones Professor of Classical Greek Literature and Comparative Literature, Harvard University.
Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey is scheduled to arrive in theaters on July 17, 2026, with Matt Damon as Odysseus, joined by Tom Holland, Zendaya, and Anne Hathaway. As excitement grows and debate continues, Nolan’s approach may well set a new bar for how ancient tales are told in modern cinema, particularly as he faces the daunting task of bringing both grandeur and darkness from Homer’s poem to life on screen.
