The Odyssey + Oppenheimer: a comparison
What do two of Christopher Nolan’s most recent films, The Odyssey and Oppenheimer, have in common? Aside from Nolan’s directorial goal of making the loudest movie possible, both films seem to revolve around the male protagonist inflicting unprecedented amounts of violence before eventually being absolved by his guilt, while also displaying a serious lack of strong female characters.
Nolan’s depictions of violence in both films possess unrealistic levels of beauty. One could argue that this beauty leading to mass destruction almost loses some of its emotional weight and social implications in Nolan’s aestheticism. The real issue with Nolan’s depiction of violence is not necessarily its beauty, but instead how he portrays the aftermath of its occurrence. In both films, the leading men seem to realize the mass destruction they have created. Examples include when Odysseus laments to Penelope about Troy and when Oppenheimer’s speech to the auditorium turns into a personal reckoning with the consequences of the atomic bomb. These instances, while emotionally important to the audience, seem to have little influence on the future actions of the characters. Odysseus still goes on to slaughter his wife’s suitors, and while Oppenheimer takes actions to prevent nuclear weapons, he still seems to be punished more by McCarthyism than the extent of his destruction.
Nolan’s depictions of guilt in these characters begs the question: what are the boundaries to violence? The director’s messaging is mixed in this regard. Odysseus does not repent for his actions against the cyclops, who, while a monster, is still an innocent creature tending his sheep, or even for the men lost on his journey as a result of his leadership. Even Oppenheimer, while acknowledging the number of lives lost due to the Manhattan project, never fully acknowledges the tremendous fatalities of his bomb. Instead of exploring the impact of the violence exacerbated by his leading male characters, Nolan scratches only the surface of their personal guilt. While it is important to show that characters possess guilt and aren’t completely cold-hearted individuals, Nolan’s depiction of guilt does not necessarily cast a moral judgement against the violence that his characters inflict. His presentation almost switches the focus from a broader discussion of the consequences of violence to focus on the mindset of a single, guilt-ridden man. Ultimately, Odysseus gets to ride off into the sunset with his wife, and Oppenheimer receives national recognition and awards, leading me to question whether Nolan’s films imply that one can be absolved of violence if they eventually show guilt.
In both films, Nolan’s inability to write female characters is stark. Women are used simply as pedestals to support their male counterparts. Kitty Oppenheimer is portrayed as a harsh and unsympathetic alcoholic mother who seems to care little about her work as a biologist once she (in her own words) “graduated to housewife.” Oppenheimer then seemingly gets to play the role of a responsible and multitalented husband, father and genius scientist while she stays hidden in his shadow. In reality, Kitty Oppenheimer was a successful biologist and worked as a lab technician while at Los Alamos for a year, a fact which Nolan completely glosses over in his movie. The other leading female character, Jean Tatlock, is also reduced solely to her role as a sexual object for Oppenheimer, nevermind the fact that Jean actually met Oppenheimer while studying at Stanford Medical School. Nolan does, however, include plutonium expert Dr. Lilli Hornig in the film, and attempts to address the struggles faced by women in science with a brief, generic comment by male characters expressing concern for her reproductive system being exposed to plutonium. With her presence in roughly two scenes in the entire film, this representation feels very performative. Dr. Hornig also only gets this job from Oppenheimer himself, which seems to reinforce Oppenheimer’s own heroism and perpetuate the notion that women must rely on the saviour male protagonist for support.
While the original /Odyssey/ is not a feminist poem, the female characters still possess much more depth, personality, and strength than what Nolan grants them in his film. Penelope and Odysseus are supposed to be each other’s equals, both cunning, employing trickery to get what they want. Anne Hathaway’s Penelope is resolute, yet spends a majority of the movie as a passive character with her major screentime revolving around the principal males of the film; grieving over her lost husband, arguing with her son, or resenting her suitors. In the original epic, Penelope conducts multiple tests to ensure her husband is exactly who he says he is upon his return, including the famous trick of moving their wedding bed, which is built out of a tree. Nolan’s exclusion of this scene and much of Penelope’s own story from the movie cements Penelope’s role as secondary to that of Odysseus.
This is similar to the representation of the other female characters in the story: Helen, Clytemnestra, Athena, Circe and Calypso. These film adaptations serve as shallow reflections of the Homeric characters and their rage and smarts obscured and lost in Nolan’s quest to portray Odysseus as the ultimate hero. Even Zendaya, portraying Athena, the literal /Goddess of Wisdom/, the one who guides and provides knowledge and protection to Odysseus, somehow became a forgotten character in the background of this film. In the words of Oppenheimer himself – is anyone ever going to tell the truth about what’s actually happening here? Nolan’s misogyny is veiled under a guise of toxic masculine heroism, and perpetuates this age-old narrative of women leaning on guilt-ridden heroes to save the day.
Ultimately, both films left me feeling unresolved. While Nolan definitely deserves cinematic praise for his lack of CGI use and sweeping scenery shots, his movies lack in emotional depth, leading to unresolved questions and gaps in understanding, not only of the characters themselves, but of the overarching themes of his pieces. His films diminish the presence of female roles while uplifting the male protagonists men who seem to be ultimately absolved of any wrongdoings after displaying some form of guilt.