The Trojan horse is a brilliant invention on the battlefield, but it becomes a rather awkward object the moment you try to explain it to your wife. In 《The Odyssey》(2026), when Odysseus, concealing his identity, tells Penelope about the war and the horse, I clearly understood the direction this film was taking. The story of winning by deceiving the enemy is met with applause at a hero’s banquet. However, in front of those who ask what was done to achieve that victory, applause cannot substitute for an explanation. Nolan transforms the most famous war-related idea into a burden that the husband must explain.
Here, the return home is not a reward, but an interrogation. Having overcome the sea and the monsters does not mean having overcome the questions within the home. I understand that Odysseus endured great hardship to return. However, a person who has suffered and a person who can become king again do not use the same qualifications. I believe that this distinction is the film’s greatest achievement. Instead of embarking on a grand adventure and then simply placing a crown on the protagonist’s head at the end, the film examines whether wearing that crown is truly the right thing to do. While respecting the desire to return home, the film does not endorse the expectation that the home should unconditionally accept the person as they were before.
Therefore, I consider this film to be more of a story that examines the qualifications of those who are entitled to return to the throne rather than a celebratory tale of victory commemorating the return of the king . However, the intensity of the scrutiny varies depending on the family member. While the reasons for the father’s departure are persistently emphasized, the mother’s decision to leave together, and the process by which the son ascends to the throne, are not given the same level of explanation. I also find fault with the moments when the husband’s atonement explains the wife’s future, and when the father’s departure guarantees the son’s ability to rule. While the courage to relinquish the crown is acknowledged, it does not automatically guarantee the approval of the next heir.
The Trojan horse is not a spoil of war, but something that her husband needs to explain
What I appreciate most about this dialogue is not just the meaning of the horse’s words, but also the perspective of the person listening. Penelope is neither a general evaluating a major, nor a guest at a banquet enjoying a thrilling story. She is someone who has lived with the absence of her husband. Even the same war story takes on a different meaning when placed before her. The issue is not how clever someone was on the battlefield, but who is the person who returned, bearing that cleverness. The film does not stop at explaining the results of the war; it delves into the relationship with those results, which must be lived with.
The premise of concealing his identity works perfectly. Odysseus cannot simply tell his story as a king or a husband and have it accepted. He must speak first, and Penelope must listen. I believe this order is crucial. If the joy of reunion were presented first, the subsequent recounting of the war would have been relegated to a mere appendix, a consolation for the suffering husband. Here, the fact that he has returned does not exempt him from the obligation to explain the past. It is not as if a family reunion automatically grants a discount on ethical scrutiny.
Unlike other heroic tales, the story of the Trojan Horse ends with a certificate of ingenuity. It implies that because the enemy was deceived and the war was won, the audience should applaud. However, Nolan places this invention back within the realm of personal conversation. My interpretation is this: to attach human emotions to a grand adventure, it is more accurate to show the hero explaining his victory to those closest to him, rather than simply showing him with a few wounds. Wounds can be shown, but responsibility must be spoken. Therefore, the intimacy of this scene is not a warm comfort, but a pressure that narrows the space for escape. I support this adaptation because the skills of the battlefield do not automatically translate into the trust of the home. In Troy, the Trojan Horse might have been acceptable, but it does not excuse or explain anything to one’s wife.
When placed side by side, the scenes involving the wooden horse and Odysseus’s disguised return become even more striking. Odysseus, even in Troy, used a trick to conceal his identity as he entered the city. Similarly, he appears before his wife in Ithaca, hiding his true name. However, the actions taken within each “door” are completely opposite. Inside the enemy’s city, concealing the truth was necessary for victory. But before his wife, revealing the truth that had been hidden is essential to restoring their relationship. I appreciate that this repetition does not simply end as a mere repetition of trickery. Instead, the person using the same skill must now explain the consequences of that skill. It is a clever adaptation that examines the application of a hero’s abilities without erasing those abilities themselves.
Therefore, Penelope’s presence as a listener cannot be simply understood passively. In this scene, the listener changes the standard of the story. It becomes more important to understand what Odysseus carried after employing his schemes, rather than how brilliant a strategist he was. If the story had been presented as another war scene, the audience would have first been impressed by his skill. However, by presenting it as a conversation between a couple, it becomes impossible to avoid the questions that arise after the initial admiration. I support this choice, which reduces the boastfulness of victory without diminishing the scale of the adventure. The Trojan Horse opened the city gates, but it was not an all-purpose key that could also gain trust.
A grand adventure was necessary not to place someone on the throne, but to remove them from it
The adventure, filmed in IMAX format, ultimately ends with the king’s departure. I believe this combination is accurate. Nolan described the original work as “the ultimate adventure story.” In reality, this film does not downplay the obstacles to returning home. Reaching home, overcoming the sea and the monsters, is itself a great achievement. The important point is that it limits the scope of the reward while not diminishing that achievement. We can applaud the courage of those who return alive. However, applause cannot replace a mandate for governing power.
Odysseus returns and attacks the suitors, but then leaves Ithaca with Penelope. At first glance, it seems the film has cancelled its own destination. After such a difficult journey to arrive, and then to leave again, was the entire journey home just an expensive transfer? However, the return home was linked to a reunion with family and the restoration of the king’s position, and the final choice separates these two goals. Even an ordinary person, before returning home, only hopes for a reunion, but upon returning, realizes that they cannot simply continue their previous life. There are judgments that can only be made after arriving.
My conjecture is as follows: Nolan deliberately created a sense of satisfaction with the return, so that the audience would be drawn to it and willing to accept the stripping away of the royal authority that he intended. If the adventure had been made trivial, the choice to relinquish the throne would also have seemed insignificant. The greater the potential gain, the more weight there is in the act of letting go. Therefore, the scale of the visuals and the restraint in the ending do not contradict each other. One makes the achievement seem grand, while the other limits the rights that the achievement allows. It is about accepting the reunion with family, but rejecting the restoration of the old power. In this distinction, I see a boldness in the adaptation that allows one to question heroism without insulting the hero. The “return stamp” is not an entry permit, nor is it a permit to rule.
Damon and Hathaway transform a heroic tale into a marital interrogation
Matt Damon is stronger when he is a husband who must justify his victories, rather than a warrior who relies on brute force. In the scene where he tells Penelope about the Trojan War, his physical heroism becomes a subject of questioning rather than a guarantee of trust. The man who was steadfast on the battlefield must now account for his actions before his wife. I admire Damon’s ability to portray this awkwardness. However, the complexity of the clever hero in the original work is overshadowed by the presence of the warrior. The character who survives through physical strength is vivid, while the character who risks everything through his intellect is relatively less prominent. His strengths and the losses incurred through adaptation are both present within the same character.
Anne Hathaway does not transform the conversation into a consolation for her husband. Instead, when Penelope listens to the war stories, she leaves behind both pride and pain, distinguishing between a wife who waits and a wife who unconditionally forgives. In the latter monologue, Penelope is not only confronting her own unhappiness but also the system that has made that unhappiness a wife’s duty. I support this firmness. While Damon brings the burden of victory, Hathaway refuses the obligation to accept it. The chemistry between the two actors shines not with the joy of reunion, but with the past they must explain to each other. It is unfair to place the responsibility for the dignity that the actors have achieved entirely on Hathaway, when the script does not provide sufficient authority for that dignity.
Robert Pattinson embodies the corruption of Ithaca, existing outside the dialogue between the couple. By attaching naivete and deception to Antinous’s smooth demeanor, it becomes clear whether his pursuit of Penelope is driven by a desire for a person or a desire for power. He doesn’t constantly display malicious expressions, which makes him even more unpleasant. Tom Holland, while accurately portraying Telemachus’s good intentions mixed with youthful arrogance, fails to elevate his potential to the level of a ruler, a problem that cannot be solved through acting alone. These actors come alive not when they are simply decorating the hero’s surroundings, but when they present contrasting demands during his return. The sea monster is outside the house, but the monster who craves the crown begins his courtship from the very beginning.
There is a specific reason to praise Pattinson’s portrayal of Antinous, because he does not simply remain a target that easily justifies Odysseus’s violence. His courtship is driven by the calculation that by winning the queen, he can also obtain the king’s position. The desire to treat Penelope as an object and the desire to claim Ithaca as his own originate from the same source. The acting, which leaves behind vanity and baseness beneath a smooth facade, connects these two aspects. If he had only portrayed Antinous as an overt tyrant, the audience might have felt reassured that eliminating one bad guy would restore order to the household. Here, the proposal itself is a form of power grab. Pattinson does not miss the fact that etiquette is a wrapping paper that conceals violence.
The more vivid the villain is, the more complex the ending becomes. Since Antinous is so repulsive, Odysseus’s return is necessary. However, this necessity does not demand Odysseus’s permanent rule. The film uses the audience’s resentment towards the suitors as the driving force for the return, but it does not end the king’s restoration solely based on that resentment. I commend the villain’s performance for upholding this distinction. Pattinson creates the reason for the protagonist’s return, and the adaptation re-asks the reason why the protagonist should remain. Just because a villain is well-made does not mean we should grant the king a blank check.
Giving Penelope the right to speak does not mean giving her the authority to make decisions
Penelope endured the pressure of suitors while protecting her family and the kingdom during her husband’s absence. In the latter part of the story, she speaks of the discriminatory social order that confines her. However, at the very end, when she leaves Odysseus and Ithaca, I am caught between her words and her actions. The act of abandoning her position as queen to choose her husband is not inherently the problem. The problem lies in the fact that, despite her decision to leave the life she has protected, the reasons for that decision are more closely tied to her husband’s past. For the husband, returning home is a process of re-evaluating his worth, but for the wife, leaving means sharing the consequences of that evaluation.
An ordinary person, before leaving a home they have maintained for a long time, would first consider where they want to be and what they want to do in the future. They might leave out of love, or they might leave because they are tired of the order of life they have lived as a queen. These two reasons are not the same. I believe that Penelope needed time to weigh her own future, as much as she needed time to listen to her husband’s story. The ability to accurately express oppression and the authority to decide one’s next life are separate matters. Like an organization that allows someone to speak freely in a meeting but leaves the final approval to someone else, this script respects her voice while leaving the direction of the ending to her husband.
My conjecture is as follows: The monologue in the latter part is a choice to supplement modern female subjectivity, but the central emotion remains focused on Odysseus’s redemption. Therefore, the more pride and pain that Hathaway embodies, the more stingy the script becomes in its distribution. The actor creates the weight of the person who is leaving, but the story prioritizes the function of leaving with her husband. For Odysseus, this provides a rationale for breaking with the past, and for Penelope, it creates a space to accompany that break. Penelope, must the reason for leaving the house you have protected also be recorded under your husband’s name?
Father’s resignation was a matter of persuasion, while son’s accession was a notification
I followed the logic of the film until the moment Odysseus left the throne. The judgment that fame earned in war does not guarantee the right to govern the community does not reduce his return to a cheap lottery. However, the moment Telemachus takes his place, the criteria suddenly become lax. While demanding that his father explain the past, he is given the future. I understand the expectation that a young and virtuous successor is better than an old and wounded king. However, expectation is not proof of governing ability. If the film had asked Telemachus the same questions it relentlessly asked his father, this succession would have been much more solid.
Tom Holland’s portrayal of Telemachus blends youthful arrogance with a sense of goodness, which is an accurate choice. He is not simply a good son, but a young man who wants to trust his own judgment. The problem is that this personality does not fully develop into the maturity needed to handle the throne. While patience is required to wait for one’s father, governing a community requires the responsibility of understanding the interests of others. The fact that he became an heir does not necessarily mean he has grown into a ruler. This is a gap that cannot be filled simply by the actor making more serious expressions.
My conjecture is as follows: The ending required a clear point of generational change, and the scene of succession replaced the process of the son’s growth. However, simply placing the son of the departing leader in his position does not change the group project management system. The film is strict about the legacy of war, but lenient about the legacy of dynasties. It breaks the tainted reputation while preserving the rights conferred by bloodline. Therefore, I accept the father’s departure as atonement, but I do not approve of the son’s ascension based on the same logic. Telemachus’s experience of waiting for his father does not automatically translate into experience in governing the state.
I am not concerned with this inheritance issue because I want to introduce modern electoral systems into the film. The problem is not the premise that the son inherits the throne, but rather who the film itself applies its criteria of qualification to. Even for Odysseus, who has achieved victory and return, the right to rule is not automatically granted. Therefore, for Telemachus, a distinction must be made between his status as the king’s son and his readiness to rule. I am not demanding that the young man act like an experienced politician. What I am asking is that he understand that his own good intentions can harm the lives of others, and that he possess the ability to modify his own convictions, and that this understanding is connected to the weight of the crown. I am not saying that blood relations should be eliminated, but rather that there should be grounds for judgment beyond blood relations.
It is at this point that the film “Atonement” and politics diverge. A father stepping down is a response to his own responsibilities. Who should take his place is a separate question concerning the future of the community. If these two issues are resolved with a single succession, it means that an individual’s ethical decision has replaced the improvement of the system itself. While I appreciate the portrayal of Odysseus’s departure, I reject this connection. It may be necessary for a generation that has experienced war to pass the torch to the next generation. However, simply being the “next generation” does not automatically make someone a better ruler. The king’s letter of reflection is not a recommendation for a successor.
A large face may open ancient doors, but it cannot open the doors to every person’s room
Nolan said, “I wanted to cast on a large scale and bring together the most talented actors.” I recognize the value of this choice. When unfamiliar, ancient names are given familiar faces, it becomes easier for the audience to grasp the relationships between the characters. Damon’s warrior and Pattinson’s suitor immediately convey their different desires. This serves as an entry point, allowing the audience to perceive the conflict between people rather than treating the myth as mere homework. There is no reason to consider the simple pleasure of recognizing actors as a vulgar commercial enterprise. A good face starts the story faster than any explanation.
The positive response is evident. Critics gave the film a positive rating in 94% of 514 reviews, and verified audience members gave it a positive rating in 96% of over 20,000 reviews. These numbers represent the percentage of positive reviews, not the average star rating. While these figures demonstrate broad support for the film, they do not reveal which aspects – the scope of the adventure or the family conflicts – resonated most with the audience. It is important to note that overall approval of the film does not necessarily mean that every character’s storyline was individually approved. Whether or not a viewer leaves the theater feeling satisfied, and whether they believe Penelope’s choices were justified, are separate questions. Checking a satisfaction survey does not automatically imply agreement with every aspect of the film.
My assessment is as follows: The strategy of using familiar actors to increase accessibility, combined with a narrative focused on Odysseus, meant that supporting characters, despite the actors’ star power, were not given the same weight in terms of development. When an actor appears, expectations rise, but there is little time to explore what that character wants and what they are willing to sacrifice. I do not consider the star-studded casting a failure. Rather, I believe it opened the door, making the lack of depth in the supporting roles even more apparent. The presence that the actors bring cannot replace the lives that the script should have provided. While the cast is full of leading actors, the decision-making power was concentrated on Odysseus.
The courage to dethrone the king was bought, the inheritance of the crown is a separate matter
I consider “The Odyssey” to be a film that elevates the concept of homecoming not just for its success, but for what it allows afterward. Nolan does not diminish the adventures that Odysseus experienced. Instead, he asks what those hardships and triumphs enable. The moment that separates the right to return to one’s family from the right to rule the community, the grand epic transcends the conventions of self-reward. It is more difficult to remove a crown from a returning hero than to place one upon his head. This film chooses the more difficult path.
The most accurate reflection of this choice is found in the couple’s wartime reminiscences. The Trojan horse, once a symbol of cunning, transforms into an ethical burden that must be explained to those closest to them. Damon’s warrior image clashes with Hathaway’s pride and pain, and their reunion becomes a process of listening to each other’s past, rather than an automatic act of forgiveness. Pattinson’s Antinous also plays a significant role. Beneath his smooth courtship lies a greed that makes Ithaca both a home to which one must return and a place of power that must remain untouched. The defeat of the monster does not mean the end of human problems.
My score is 4 out of 5 points. The acting, which distinguishes between victory and legitimacy, the dialogue that subverts the meaning of the horse, and the villainous performances that etch the corruption of Ithaca onto people’s faces, contribute to this score. The reason for not giving it the highest score is also clear. Penelope lacks the accumulation of decisions that would allow her to leave her life, and Telemachus lacks the foundation for growth that would allow him to handle the throne. While the film strictly portrays the father’s past, it uses kinship as a guarantee for the son’s future. The generational change has occurred, but the method of passing on power has not been completely renewed. I highly appreciate this return. However, I would not call it redemption until the moment the king places the crown on his son’s head.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)
Does the ending, in which Odysseus sets out again, negate the narrative of homecoming?
I interpret this not as a denial, but as a judgment made possible after returning home. Returning to one’s family is different from regaining former power. The film acknowledges the achievement of reunion, but rejects the automatic restoration of ruling authority. Just because one has arrived does not mean that all former rights are automatically restored.
Is Penelope’s decision to leave with her husband inherently passive?
Simply agreeing to leave does not automatically qualify someone as passive. The problem lies in the fact that she is giving up a life she has built and has not yet had the opportunity to fully realize her desired future. The right to speak in the latter monologue does not guarantee the right to determine the ending. The choices made by the script are smaller than the dignity that Hathaway created.
Is Telemaco’s accession a solution that breaks away from the legacy of war?
While generational change is a necessary step, it is not a sufficient solution. It maintains the privileges of kinship while severing the tainted reputation of the previous generation. Good intentions and youth alone cannot prove one’s qualifications to govern. The questions posed to the father in the film should also have been directed to the son.
Is the use of celebrity casting a mere box office gimmick to obscure historical figures?
I do not view the casting itself as a failure. The familiar faces quickly establish the relationships within the unfamiliar mythology, and Damon and Pattinson clearly convey their characters’ different desires. However, the impact of the actors’ presence does not fully match the depth of the character development. The door was opened well, but not all the rooms were filled.
What is the reason for giving a score of 4, despite the insufficient portrayal of Penelope and Telemachus’ narratives?
The flaws do not overshadow the film’s core achievements. The adaptation, which separates victory from the right to rule, and the married couple’s war reminiscences are powerful. Pattinson embodies both the need for homecoming and the corruption of Ithaca. The script, which unevenly develops the family’s choices, prevents it from reaching its highest potential.
