For this particular film review, we're going to do something a little bit different.
We decided to compare the Christopher Nolan star-studded blockbuster The Odyssey to an adaptation our co-writer, Mallika, was exposed to when she first read the epic poem in ninth-grade English class. This adaptation was a miniseries released in 1997 on NBC, and it too featured an all-star cast with names including Armand Assante, Isabella Rossellini, Bernadette Peters and Vanessa Williams.
The differences between the two feel inherently obvious, at first. The production value for the latest adaptation is clearly much higher, being that the miniseries aired on network television in the '90s. The miniseries is told in a sequential order, while Nolan's is intentionally depicted in a nonlinear narrative to showcase the total impact Odysseus' time fighting in the Trojan War has had for decades. Moments in the miniseries feel cheesy, such as when the character of Telemachus is born, or when Odysseus (Assante) flashes back to memories with his wife, Penelope (Greta Scacchi). But, if you examine these two depictions closely, you realize that they do indeed reflect the original source material well.
For starters, both amount to a similar runtime, showcasing a true devotion to the material.
Considering the miniseries was made in the '90s, the action sequences look good. They may not be at the level of Nolan's, but even sans-IMAX, they made an impact.
The boats surprisingly do look fairly similar. Maybe Nolan's are more prestigious-looking, but both depictions do a good job capturing the grandeur of these water-crafts. Eddie expects Assassin's Creed videos featuring Nolan's boats to flood YouTube very soon.
When the Cyclops arrives in the miniseries, there are some clever wisecracks thrown around by Odysseus. Humor actually is more prominent in the miniseries. It would have generally been nice to see more humor in the Nolan version, but it captures you so fully with its action sequences that it leaves you immersed the whole time. What would be interesting is an alternative cut of Nolan's told in sequential order, just to see how different the storytelling would be. Other than that, it generally needs no notes.
In the miniseries, we see Greta Scacchi as Penelope do her best to keep the kingdom of Ithaca alive without a king, while pining for that very king (her husband) to come home. Anne Hathaway's Penelope has a similar arc, though as an actress, she is given more expressional range. Both are trying to ward off suitors' advances, including those from Antinous (played in the Nolan version by Robert Pattinson, in a deliciously wicked performance), but Hathaway is more savvy in how she handles this. Also, brace yourselves for an epic faceoff between him and Odysseus at the film's denouement.
There is noticeably more sexuality in the '90s miniseries, which feels on par with that era. In fact, the Nolan version is so devoid of sexuality, it makes me wonder why it was rated R in the first place. The sirens are depicted from a surprising distance in his version, but it's incredibly effective for the film. The violence, though apparent, doesn't feel as intense as in "Gladiator," for example.
The costumes in the '90s miniseries, surprisingly, feel more accurate to the time period (save for Telemachus - who is played by Alan Stenson - and his '90s hairdo). While much has been made about the historic inaccuracies in Nolan's version, you still get a sense of being transported to Ancient Greece, and moreover, his depiction is meant to evoke the feelings of being alive during that time, providing an analog to the threats of civilizational decay we face today.
In typical '90s fashion, men behave like men throughout the miniseries, with little recourse for their actions. There is a much-needed update in Nolan's version, where Odysseus is often reflective and introspective about his time at war, particularly in his scenes with diabolical nymph Calypso (Charlize Theron). It's clear that Nolan is depicting the toll of war throughout his iteration, and this film might be a sequel of sorts to his Oscar-winning hit Oppenheimer, with its meditation on the consequences of war. You don't need an inner-monologue akin to Assante's narration in the miniseries to work out what Damon's Odysseus is thinking.
Speaking of men-will-be-men narratives, the men in the miniseries engage in more debauchery and bacchanalia, while Nolan's troops behave like stoic, yet reflective, soldiers throughout. It makes the warcrimes they, and Odysseus, commit during the siege, revealed at the end of the film, all the more shocking.
The Circe scene in the Nolan version is one to watch. A really powerful performance from underrated actress Samantha Norton as the man-hating goddess belies an underlying sadness and sympathy. While it is epic to see how the men are transformed into pigs (literally), there is also a humanity to that sequence that gives it gravitas.
Both conclude with the slow reveal of Odysseus' return. While Assante's version also arrives as a beggar, there is more context provided to Damon's transformation for viewers. When the big reveal happens, it's much more satisfying in the Nolan version. The miniseries has Assante magically change back into form in a rather hokey manner, whereas Damon's tricks Ithaca's inhabitants into thinking he is truly a beggar who knows of Odysseus's whereabouts, only to reveal over time that he is the real thing.
With a smaller (though big for network TV) budget and network censors against them, the 1997 Odyssey miniseries does its best with what it has. You have to admire the chances it takes with these elements in play. It doesn't hurt that it was produced by Francis Ford Coppola.
Of the two, of course, Nolan's The Odyssey is the superior one, but both are incredibly faithful to the source material, and deserve the praise as such.
Miniseries
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