The Trojan War begins anew in Athens

For three thousand years, the Greeks have debated who Homer really was, where Odysseus’s journey began, and how much of the Trojan War was history and how much was myth. It was inevitable that Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey” would not be received in Greece as merely a film. In a country where the epic is studied in schools and forms part not only of the literary heritage but of the very national identity, every decision made by Hollywood has become a statement of intent. Who owns Homer? Who has the right to rewrite him? And to what extent can a universal work be separated from the country that gave birth to it? The film, which was partly shot in Greece, sparked controversy just as it was offering the country a global showcase.

The most high-profile row concerns Helen. Nolan chose Lupita Nyong’o, a Mexican-Kenyan-American actress, to play the woman whose abduction by Paris sparked the Trojan War. This alone was enough to turn the casting decision into a battle over ‘woke’ ideology, historical accuracy and creative freedom. Elon Musk accused Nolan of having “desecrated Homer” by bowing to political correctness. In Greece, the small ultra-orthodox Niki party argued that taxpayers had been forced to fund an ideology alien to the country’s history and identity. The controversy centred on a Homeric detail: Helen is described as having splendid hair, a beautiful face, elegant clothes and, in one passage, ‘white arms’. For the critics, this alone is enough to render the casting choice arbitrary; for her defenders, the vagueness of the descriptions demonstrates that Homer did not bequeath a racial identikit to posterity. Myth is not an archival document.

This gives rise to the second dispute: does the Odyssey belong to the Greeks or to the world? Some intellectuals and critics argue that the Homeric poems have become one of the cornerstones of Western civilisation and can be reinterpreted by anyone. Their success depends on their ability to withstand translations, distortions and reinterpretations. To demand a certificate of authenticity would be tantamount to embalming Homer. But the opposing argument is not without merit: if Hollywood uses Greece as a backdrop, Greek mythology as raw material, archaeological sites as a setting and Greek public funds as support, can it then treat the Greeks as mere extras in its own past?

This is the third issue, perhaps even more interesting than the one concerning Elena’s skin colour: there are no Greek actors in the film’s cast. The Greek diaspora has protested in an open letter: Greece, as the Greek City Times pointed out, is not merely an ancient setting, but a living country; Greeks are not historical figures, but contemporary people. Lifo magazine summed up the paradox with a question: Homer belongs to everyone, but why are Greeks absent from Nolan’s Odyssey? The Guardian has also raised the same issue. The issue here is no longer the director’s right to reinvent Helen, but the global industry’s ability to transform a national culture into a brand, severing it from the people who live there today. It is the difference between universalising a myth and stripping it of its heirs.

The fourth dispute concerns money. The production received around 6.5 million euros in subsidies from the Greek state, under the rebate scheme introduced in 2017 to attract international productions. The total budget reached 250 million. For the critics, this is an aggravating factor: Nolan is alleged to have distorted Greek cultural heritage at the expense of Greek taxpayers. For the government, however, the funding is an industrial policy: the film was shot in Greece and will showcase Nestor’s Palace in Pylos, Voidokilia beach, Methoni Castle and Acrocorinth to the world. The real question is whether, when the state funds a production, it also acquires the right to control its content. If the answer were yes, any incentive for the film industry would become an indirect form of censorship.

The controversy has even divided the government. Culture Minister Lina Mendoni has defended the artist’s autonomy: it is not for the state to tell Nolan how to interpret a myth, nor is it conceivable that Athens would censor a director simply because it disapproves of his casting choices. Health Minister Adonis Georgiadis did not contest the funding, but described the director’s choices as incomprehensible, suggesting they may have been motivated by a bid for Oscars. Two ministers from the same government have represented the two strands of the Greek right: the liberal strand, which considers artistic freedom more important than cultural orthodoxy, and the identitarian strand, which fears that the national heritage is being used against the nation itself.

In the background lies a contrast that is less ideological and more practical. Greece is proud that Nolan has chosen its landscapes, hopes to benefit from film tourism, and knows that no promotional campaign could have achieved such visibility. But it is precisely this success that fuels resentment: the world loves ancient Greece, whilst often ignoring modern Greece. It wants Odysseus, Penelope, Helen, the Mycenaean palaces and the beaches of the Peloponnese, but not necessarily Greek actors and writers. To be at the centre of the stage as a symbol, yet to remain on the sidelines as a presence.

In the end, however, the final twist is a commercial one. Whilst politicians, ministers, historians, newspapers, the diaspora and billionaires squabble over the authenticity of the Odyssey, in Greece tickets have sold out and the film has prompted readers to return to bookshops to buy the poem. Nolan may have got it wrong, provoked, oversimplified or left things out. But he has done what every great adaptation should do: he has placed a classic at the heart of a lively debate. The Greeks are arguing because Homer is not dead, and the Odyssey continues to resonate just as it did three thousand years ago: it forces everyone to ask themselves where they come from, who is authorised to tell their story, and how much they are willing to change in order to return home.