Mind you, folks: I’m not going to pen a full review of 2024’s The Return. Despite all appearances, this is solely something I felt a need to sound off on because – yes – it upsets me when I see it.
True story: so I had my birthday this past week, and one of my choices was to head to the cineplex to watch Uberto Pasolini’s big screen adaptation of The Odyssey, this one called The Return. As adapted by Edward Bond and John Collee, the film essentially deals with the last chapter of the Homer epic: Odysseus has finally defied the gods and made it back to the shores of his beloved Ithaca and now must resolve what effects his protracted absence has left on his kingdom. Suffice it to say that time hasn’t exactly been kind to his family and his people; and the hero finds his castle overrun with suitors who would demand the hand of his lovely Penelope in marriage. The film literally picks up with our veteran of the Trojan War asleep on beachhead after the approaching ship was destroyed en route.
Now, I’m more than casually familiar with this tale, but please keep in mind that I in no way consider myself an expert at all. I’ve read it twice, and I’ve also enjoyed a rather spectacular graphic novel adaptation of it, too. Furthermore, I’m rather fond of the 1997 television miniseries – which won two Primetime Emmys, I might add – that starred Armand Assante (a bit of a miscast, if you ask me, but not awful in any respect), Greta Scacchi, and Isabella Rossellini. And, yes, I’m aware that 1958’s The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad largely steals several elements of the Homeric adventure and recasts them for Sinbad, so I’ve watched that as well. You see, I was originally turned on to the myth back in the 5th Grade when my history teacher, Mrs. Sauers, did a unit on Greek Mythology; and she entertained up with a wonderful film strip series (ask your grandparents) adapting all of Odysseus’ life. So … not an expert … just a huge fan.
If you must, then consider me a snob about it … hence this ‘Snobservation.’
Anyway …
Back in my college days, Professor Watanbe both laughed at and took issue with my characterization of Odysseus when – ahem – I answered his question of “What do I know about the man?” with the statement, “He’s the original John Rambo.” I didn’t offer up this retort in disrespect at all because Rambo – from 1982’s spectacular First Blood – is a veteran who has travelled far, seen many things, and still retains that sense of duty and honor which fuels quite literally ever facet of his core morality. (This isn’t necessarily true of the sequels: though heroic and committed to military efficiency and goals, Rambo evolves over time with the needs of his mission. My observation in class was with respect to First Blood as the other flicks hadn’t yet even been made.) Even at his weakest moment, Rambo doesn’t flinch to do that which he was trained to do; and his PTSD doesn’t emerge until confronted with the ultimate order to stand down.
Odysseus – factually – stood down at the end of the Trojan War, but the events that unwind across The Odyssey – not The Return – force him to maintain that adherence to a military code of conduct. The various encounters he finds himself and his shipmate enduring repeatedly show that his bravery and heroism is firmly ensconced into his DNA; and he rarely if ever takes time out of these pursuits to question why he did what he did (to any thematic degree), leaving the fact that he’s been sequestered away from his homeland by a vengeful Poseidon the undercurrent to the whole affair. I’ve always seen it that his freedom of choice – both with his angering the god at the close of the war with the blasphemous act of coopting a tribute for military use – put him in mortal peril; and I’ve always believed that one of the lessons we readers learn is that the determined will of man is strong enough to overcome the ostracization of the gods.
You see, despite every obstacle placed in front of him, Odysseus remains committed to his family, his kingdom, and his self. Of course, he’s tested over and over again across this journey; and – to a degree – he even succumbs a bit to the temptation to get on with his life without his wife and son. However, the core – his love of household and country – also returns over and over again, so much so that it gives him the singular ability to (as I said) defy Poseidon and eventually make it home. Though he might be broken physically here and there in the process, Odysseus is far from a broken man suffering with PTSD … and that’s what the producers would have you believe with The Return.
Here, our Trojan warrior (played by Ralph Fiennes) has been, apparently, exhausted by nothing more than his battles in that far off land. Aside from the fact that he’s been curiously absent from his home for years, the script completely ignores the tinkering of Poseidon (the whole damn catalyst keeping him from getting home) and suggests that Odysseus was somewhat ashamed of who he’d become as a consequence of being called to war and waging it. Thus, the entertainment industry would have audiences believe that having a character both standing for something and earning a place in literary history is the oddity of The Odyssey and – ahem – what matters most is the man’s mental health.
To make matters a bit worse, the script even somewhat bastardizes the particulars of the seminal contest with which Odysseus reclaims his kingdom in the final moments.
For those unaware, the Queen Penelope has been exhausted by fighting off one suitor after another who would seize the palace and all of its riches for their own personal use; and – in a last bit strategy to demonstrate that her missing husband has no equal – she devises a contest wherein she will agree to marry any man who can string Odysseus’ massive bow and shoot an arrow through the eyelet of a dozen axe heads lined up in unison. Of course, these lesser men insist that this isn’t possible – that it’s all a trick – and yet a beggar eventually rises to the occasion, proving his worth and demonstrating that the king is back, baby, (it’s Odysseus in disguise) so let’s get ready to rumble.
If I remember the story correctly, our hero first slays Antinous, the lecher who did the worst deeds whilst he was away.
In The Return, the producers, director, and screenwriter chose to convey these events a bit differently. Here, Odysseus completes the challenge and then just begins randomly shooting down these potential suitors one-by-one, actually leaving Antinous alone to the very end. Then, Telemachus – the king’s son (played by Charlie Plummer) – steps forward with a sword in hand, intending to finish this schemer off; and Penelope (played by Juliette Binoche) marches in, essentially demanding that the man be spared. When Telemachus lets his sword fly anyway, she cries out as if the man she loved was just struck down.
Sadly, this isn’t the Penelope of the great Homeric myth.
Penelope loved her husband even in spite of his decade’s long absence. She had no fondness for these men who had their sights on her kingdom and saw them as charlatans to the throne, the lesser of her peers who used their influence against her and those who served her family at the castle. Yet, The Return would have you believe that she eventually developed feelings for the very one who – in the film – tried to have her son murdered; and that’s a bit of blasphemy, if you ask me. Yes, she eventually reconciles with Odysseus – who gives a speech about the horrors of war, another bit of mockery to who I believe the man was – but the fact remains that The Odyssey’s central point about the will of man gets ‘mansplained’ away with a contemporary warning about war and its aftermath being conveniently substituted in its absence.
I’ve often remarked that I’m okay with a bit of Hollywood whitewashing in order to sell a good story. Films do have to make narrative sense – or they should – and I can appreciate that rewriting or ‘recasting’ some lesser elements might be necessary to make a story work a bit better here and there. But … how do you justify changing one of the central themes to one of the greatest works in literature to the point wherein its main character doesn’t quite resemble himself any longer? Odysseus wasn’t off on any vision quest trying to find himself after The Iliad ended; he was banished from his home by the gods. Ignoring the spine to the body leaves you with a limp noodle; and, yes, that angered me.
For those wondering, I still managed to enjoy The Return. I do so very much love this story, and I do appreciate seeing it brought to life for modern audiences. But the endless stream of critics falling over themselves to claim this is one of the finest adaptations ever of The Odyssey tells me that none of them are even vaguely familiar with the source material. That saddens me. That disappoints me. But it doesn’t surprise me.
Good film? Sure.
Great film? Here and there.
Great adaptation? Hardly.
-- EZ
True story: so I had my birthday this past week, and one of my choices was to head to the cineplex to watch Uberto Pasolini’s big screen adaptation of The Odyssey, this one called The Return. As adapted by Edward Bond and John Collee, the film essentially deals with the last chapter of the Homer epic: Odysseus has finally defied the gods and made it back to the shores of his beloved Ithaca and now must resolve what effects his protracted absence has left on his kingdom. Suffice it to say that time hasn’t exactly been kind to his family and his people; and the hero finds his castle overrun with suitors who would demand the hand of his lovely Penelope in marriage. The film literally picks up with our veteran of the Trojan War asleep on beachhead after the approaching ship was destroyed en route.
Now, I’m more than casually familiar with this tale, but please keep in mind that I in no way consider myself an expert at all. I’ve read it twice, and I’ve also enjoyed a rather spectacular graphic novel adaptation of it, too. Furthermore, I’m rather fond of the 1997 television miniseries – which won two Primetime Emmys, I might add – that starred Armand Assante (a bit of a miscast, if you ask me, but not awful in any respect), Greta Scacchi, and Isabella Rossellini. And, yes, I’m aware that 1958’s The 7th Voyage Of Sinbad largely steals several elements of the Homeric adventure and recasts them for Sinbad, so I’ve watched that as well. You see, I was originally turned on to the myth back in the 5th Grade when my history teacher, Mrs. Sauers, did a unit on Greek Mythology; and she entertained up with a wonderful film strip series (ask your grandparents) adapting all of Odysseus’ life. So … not an expert … just a huge fan.
If you must, then consider me a snob about it … hence this ‘Snobservation.’
Anyway …
Back in my college days, Professor Watanbe both laughed at and took issue with my characterization of Odysseus when – ahem – I answered his question of “What do I know about the man?” with the statement, “He’s the original John Rambo.” I didn’t offer up this retort in disrespect at all because Rambo – from 1982’s spectacular First Blood – is a veteran who has travelled far, seen many things, and still retains that sense of duty and honor which fuels quite literally ever facet of his core morality. (This isn’t necessarily true of the sequels: though heroic and committed to military efficiency and goals, Rambo evolves over time with the needs of his mission. My observation in class was with respect to First Blood as the other flicks hadn’t yet even been made.) Even at his weakest moment, Rambo doesn’t flinch to do that which he was trained to do; and his PTSD doesn’t emerge until confronted with the ultimate order to stand down.
Odysseus – factually – stood down at the end of the Trojan War, but the events that unwind across The Odyssey – not The Return – force him to maintain that adherence to a military code of conduct. The various encounters he finds himself and his shipmate enduring repeatedly show that his bravery and heroism is firmly ensconced into his DNA; and he rarely if ever takes time out of these pursuits to question why he did what he did (to any thematic degree), leaving the fact that he’s been sequestered away from his homeland by a vengeful Poseidon the undercurrent to the whole affair. I’ve always seen it that his freedom of choice – both with his angering the god at the close of the war with the blasphemous act of coopting a tribute for military use – put him in mortal peril; and I’ve always believed that one of the lessons we readers learn is that the determined will of man is strong enough to overcome the ostracization of the gods.
You see, despite every obstacle placed in front of him, Odysseus remains committed to his family, his kingdom, and his self. Of course, he’s tested over and over again across this journey; and – to a degree – he even succumbs a bit to the temptation to get on with his life without his wife and son. However, the core – his love of household and country – also returns over and over again, so much so that it gives him the singular ability to (as I said) defy Poseidon and eventually make it home. Though he might be broken physically here and there in the process, Odysseus is far from a broken man suffering with PTSD … and that’s what the producers would have you believe with The Return.
Here, our Trojan warrior (played by Ralph Fiennes) has been, apparently, exhausted by nothing more than his battles in that far off land. Aside from the fact that he’s been curiously absent from his home for years, the script completely ignores the tinkering of Poseidon (the whole damn catalyst keeping him from getting home) and suggests that Odysseus was somewhat ashamed of who he’d become as a consequence of being called to war and waging it. Thus, the entertainment industry would have audiences believe that having a character both standing for something and earning a place in literary history is the oddity of The Odyssey and – ahem – what matters most is the man’s mental health.
To make matters a bit worse, the script even somewhat bastardizes the particulars of the seminal contest with which Odysseus reclaims his kingdom in the final moments.
For those unaware, the Queen Penelope has been exhausted by fighting off one suitor after another who would seize the palace and all of its riches for their own personal use; and – in a last bit strategy to demonstrate that her missing husband has no equal – she devises a contest wherein she will agree to marry any man who can string Odysseus’ massive bow and shoot an arrow through the eyelet of a dozen axe heads lined up in unison. Of course, these lesser men insist that this isn’t possible – that it’s all a trick – and yet a beggar eventually rises to the occasion, proving his worth and demonstrating that the king is back, baby, (it’s Odysseus in disguise) so let’s get ready to rumble.
If I remember the story correctly, our hero first slays Antinous, the lecher who did the worst deeds whilst he was away.
In The Return, the producers, director, and screenwriter chose to convey these events a bit differently. Here, Odysseus completes the challenge and then just begins randomly shooting down these potential suitors one-by-one, actually leaving Antinous alone to the very end. Then, Telemachus – the king’s son (played by Charlie Plummer) – steps forward with a sword in hand, intending to finish this schemer off; and Penelope (played by Juliette Binoche) marches in, essentially demanding that the man be spared. When Telemachus lets his sword fly anyway, she cries out as if the man she loved was just struck down.
Sadly, this isn’t the Penelope of the great Homeric myth.
Penelope loved her husband even in spite of his decade’s long absence. She had no fondness for these men who had their sights on her kingdom and saw them as charlatans to the throne, the lesser of her peers who used their influence against her and those who served her family at the castle. Yet, The Return would have you believe that she eventually developed feelings for the very one who – in the film – tried to have her son murdered; and that’s a bit of blasphemy, if you ask me. Yes, she eventually reconciles with Odysseus – who gives a speech about the horrors of war, another bit of mockery to who I believe the man was – but the fact remains that The Odyssey’s central point about the will of man gets ‘mansplained’ away with a contemporary warning about war and its aftermath being conveniently substituted in its absence.
I’ve often remarked that I’m okay with a bit of Hollywood whitewashing in order to sell a good story. Films do have to make narrative sense – or they should – and I can appreciate that rewriting or ‘recasting’ some lesser elements might be necessary to make a story work a bit better here and there. But … how do you justify changing one of the central themes to one of the greatest works in literature to the point wherein its main character doesn’t quite resemble himself any longer? Odysseus wasn’t off on any vision quest trying to find himself after The Iliad ended; he was banished from his home by the gods. Ignoring the spine to the body leaves you with a limp noodle; and, yes, that angered me.
For those wondering, I still managed to enjoy The Return. I do so very much love this story, and I do appreciate seeing it brought to life for modern audiences. But the endless stream of critics falling over themselves to claim this is one of the finest adaptations ever of The Odyssey tells me that none of them are even vaguely familiar with the source material. That saddens me. That disappoints me. But it doesn’t surprise me.
Good film? Sure.
Great film? Here and there.
Great adaptation? Hardly.
-- EZ
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