Tell me, Christopher Nolan, when did it first rosy-fingered dawn on you that your favorite type of protagonist — a tormented sinner-hero — was a specialty of the ancient Greeks? Millennia before Matthew McConaughey’s astronaut sobbed over abandoning his family and Cillian Murphy’s Robert Oppenheimer gasped that he had become the destroyer of worlds, the Greeks spun cautionary legends about Odysseus, the Trojan War tactician who outsmarted his own plan to sail smoothly home.

Nolan refuses to tremble before the canon. Grabbing mighty scissors, he cuts and rejiggers Homer and a bit of Virgil to transform these classical texts into his type of tale: one fixated on memory, self-identity, destructive genius and the slippage of time. As ever, it’s light on sex, heavy on wine-dark angst.

Once you endure its opening stretch — an expositional barrage with the pace of an obnoxious cop show — “The Odyssey” ascends as a monument to movie craft with shuddering ships, rough-hewn landscapes and practical monsters who snatch and grab men at random from above like giant skill cranes. Unlike in most mythological tales, the white Corinthian columns have been swapped out for brutal stone architecture. The Parthenon won’t be built for another 800 years; likewise, Athenian democracy is centuries away.

Nolan has anchored his “Odyssey” at the fall of the Bronze Age, a once-great era toppled by wealth-hoarding, diminished trade and climate catastrophes. Fearful of invading marauders, humankind has turned distrustful and stingy, ignoring Zeus’ command to show generosity toward the poor and foreign-born, a cornerstone of faith that would later be repurposed in the New Testament.

This Odysseus (Matt Damon) is both witness to and wrecking ball of the collapse. Not only does he steal, slaughter and pillage while expecting to be treated with kindness, but he’s also brainstormed the atomic bomb of his day: the Trojan horse, a deceitful invention planted into the sandy beaches of Troy that marks the decline of civilization like the Statue of Liberty in “Planet of the Apes.” Inside this claustrophobic wooden beast, Odysseus and his wild and bloodthirsty Greeks are crammed cheek-to-sandal so tightly that you can’t imagine how they’ll spring into action without first getting a massage. Outside and looking up at it, the pony seems to sneer.

“The Odyssey” is a saga with half a dozen detours and one destination, Ithaca, Odysseus’ kingdom. While he’s been fighting in Troy, his palace has been overrun by men who want to marry his faithful wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), and murder his helpless son, Telemachus (Tom Holland). Robert Pattinson’s oily suitor woos Penelope like a “Bachelorette” contestant: “It’s time to live again,” he urges her, certain that Penelope’s vengeful husband won’t come back. Forget that rose, dude, and run away.

Anne Hathaway and Tom Holland in the movie “The Odyssey.”

(Melinda Sue Gordon / Universal Pictures)

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After 20 years away — 10 at war, 10 adrift — Odysseus is anxious to reclaim his kingdom. Or is he? Nolan floats a convincing psychological reason why this Odysseus subconsciously believes his duplicitous actions during the war deserve permanent exile from civilization. Although, as is the case with too much of Nolan’s storytelling, he wrongly thinks it’s more interesting to withhold Odysseus’ traumatic hang-up until the ending. The Greeks never tried to confuse the audience in the pursuit of suspense. They delivered their plots arrow-straight to make the dread sting.

Saddled with a silly black beard that eventually goes gray, Damon’s Odysseus is stubborn, overconfident and sacrilegious, but doesn’t bear that much resemblance to the conniving, hypocritical egotist of lore who fretted over his wife’s fidelity while seducing not one, but two, enchantresses, Calypso and Circe. Today’s viewers might demonize Odysseus’ erotic exploits; instead, they’ve been Damon-ized into something innately goodhearted.

The chasteness of Nolan’s version bugs me as it’s insulting he doesn’t trust audiences to grapple with this hero’s moral complexity — and I’m gut-sick that he’s probably right. Plus, it leaves Charlize Theron’s Calypso nothing to do but limply listen to (and medicate) Odysseus like a bored therapist reaching for the lithium. I was hoping for more zest from a blond wearing actual fishnets that could catch sardines.

At least Samantha Morton’s body-horror spin on the witch Circe is terrific. To punish his men for barging into her hut, she digs her fingers inside their skin like clay, remolding them into the swine she claims they are. Her outrage is one of the best ideas in the movie. Likewise, Lupita Nyong’o’s Helen is regal and formidable, but it’s a mistake to double-cast her as Helen’s twin sister, Clytemnestra. The whole reason thousands of men fought a war over the most beautiful woman alive is that there’s only one of them — unless undermining that excuse is the point. (In an aside, we’re told that Benny Safdie’s aloof Agamemnon, hiding under a try-hard scary helmet decorated with a golden spine, really waged it to break up Troy’s trade routes.)

Unlike in Homer or even “Clash of the Titans,” which showed the gods as toga-clad twits toying with mortal lives like action figures, they have little, if anything, to do in this plot. In Homer’s original verse, Athena is as fussy as a stage mother, showing up every few pages disguised as someone mortal to bless both Odysseus and Telemachus with live-action Photoshop filters that make them extra handsome. Here, Holland’s Telemachus gambles Athena is hiding inside half the people he meets until his father chides, “Don’t look for gods in men, you’ll just be disappointed.”

Instead, Nolan balances religion on the spear tip of doubt. The angry sea god Poseidon is reduced to rumors; mighty Zeus withheld to a few well-timed thunderclaps. Even Athena, if that genuinely is whom Zendaya is playing, isn’t that helpful, mostly staring at Odysseus in mute dismay. It’s possible to get to the end of “The Odyssey” and conclude that Nolan doesn’t believe in gods at all. To him, men must be proactive in their own demise. (I’m half-convinced, the way I don’t really swear by the zodiac but nevertheless stopped dating Libras.)

Composer Ludwig Göransson scores the breath-holding assault on Troy to drums that pound faster and faster on our nerves, as does our alarm that Odysseus’ troops aren’t the good guys. Occasionally, Göransson adds a lovely monotone layer of woodwinds or a keening chorus that sounds like the oldest song on Earth.

Conversely, during the talky Ithaca sequences, when the movie is rightly paranoid of losing our attention, the more modern heist-thriller music is flat-out obnoxious, especially in a scene where Odysseus lays out his ruse to infiltrate his house to John Leguizamo’s trusty goatherd, the most lovable man ever introduced throwing a puppy off a cliff. (No, really — it’s the movie’s only outright joke.)

Hoyte van Hoytema’s Imax-framed cinematography is assertive and present, rocking with the stormy waves and peering into the torch-lit darkness where the color palate is as starkly orange and black as an ancient Greek urn. Working with the special effects team, Van Hoytema cloaks the non-digital wizardry of the Cyclops and six-headed Scylla behind naturalistic camera movements and shadows so that, rather than drawing too much attention to themselves, the creatures just feel real. As gray and wrinkled as the bottom of a mummy’s foot, the Cyclops’ face is wonderfully askew, like he was stepped on by someone even bigger than him.

Nolan’s “Odyssey” engraves marvelous images onto the ancient oral poem. One of the most haunting shots is Odysseus sprinting out of Hades chased by an army of the dead who regret following him into battle. In turn, Nolan has sacrificed Odysseus himself to serve his own needs, scrapping the character’s prickly personality to Trojan-horse a message about how empires collapse.

Aghast at the ways of men, he’s dug his own Circe-like fingers into Homer to manipulate the tale into a moralistic “Oppenheimer” prequel. Even Odysseus seems to suspect as much. “Our mistakes will again be forgotten,” Odysseus predicts as the land he loves sails into the Dark Ages while he steers the helm. He’s done unforgivable wrongs. But in that moment, he’s right.

Premiering at the 2026 River Valley Film Festival, Saari uses fragmented memories, Finnish landscapes and restrained performances to explore betrayal, identity and reconciliation.

By Valerie Milano

Palm Springs, CA (The Hollywood Times) 7/14/26 – In the visually striking short film Saari—Finnish for “island”, a peaceful family retreat becomes the setting for the slow collapse of a relationship.

Co-written by Justin Seegmueller, Corey L’Esperance and Suvi Härkönen, the film follows Daniel, played by Seegmueller, as he reflects on the choices that damaged his relationship with Liina, portrayed by Ilona Karppanen. Told through fragments of the past, present and future, Saari gradually reveals how secrecy and betrayal can transform a place of safety into one of emotional confinement.

The nonlinear structure was not simply a stylistic choice. The project was developed and filmed over more than a decade, with footage captured in Finland, Boston and the desert. L’Esperance explained that the filmmakers divided the story into “past, present and future,” allowing audiences to experience the relationship from both characters’ perspectives.

Click below for our exclusive interview: 

He described Daniel and Liina as two people who are “stuck in these moments in time,” making the fragmented narrative especially appropriate.

Seegmueller said Daniel’s internal struggle is rooted in the questions, “Am I that person? Am I still that person?” His restrained performance captures a man attempting to reconcile his current identity with the damage caused by earlier decisions.

For Seegmueller, the film is fundamentally about choice.

“It’s all about decision-making,” he said. “Are you an accumulation of all your decisions?”

Finland’s lush island scenery contrasts sharply with Daniel’s later isolation in the barren desert. Seegmueller described the progression as “lush and then dead,” a simple but effective visual representation of a relationship moving from intimacy and possibility to emotional aftermath.

For Liina, the island represents family history, comfort and security. By inviting Daniel there, she welcomes him into her sanctuary. His secrets, however, begin to contaminate that protected space.

“You let me into your life,” Seegmueller explained, “and now I’m here almost ruining your sense of security.”

Because the couple reaches the island by rowboat, the setting also creates a sense of entrapment as suspicion and resentment begin to surface. L’Esperance noted that once they are there, “there’s not really anywhere you can go.”

The film’s cross-cultural perspective was strengthened by the collaboration between American co-director L’Esperance and Finnish co-director Härkönen. Their responsibilities shifted according to which character dominated a scene. L’Esperance generally led sequences centered on Daniel, while Härkönen took a stronger role when Liina’s experience was at the emotional forefront.

That approach helps prevent Liina from existing only as a reaction to Daniel’s behavior. Her journey eventually becomes more compelling than his guilt.

Karppanen traveled to the United States for the first time to film the Boston scenes, which were completed approximately three years after the original Finland footage. Seegmueller said the friendship they developed during production can be seen in the warmth between their characters during the relationship’s happier moments.

The filmmakers deliberately avoid explaining every detail of Daniel’s betrayal. Earlier edits revealed even less, but test audiences needed additional narrative guidance.

“We do need to have some breadcrumbs,” L’Esperance said, explaining that without them, the story became “a little too lost on the audience.”

The challenge was to provide enough information while maintaining the film’s quiet, interpretive tone. L’Esperance said they wanted to leave room for viewers to “fill in some of the blanks.”

The lengthy production process also changed how the filmmakers viewed Daniel. L’Esperance acknowledged that they initially saw him as “this hero,” but over time recognized that “he is kind of a bad guy in some of these aspects.”

That evolving perspective gives the film greater moral complexity. Daniel is not granted an easy redemption, and his introspection does not erase the harm he caused.

Karppanen brings strength and emotional restraint to Liina, who emerges from the experience as what L’Esperance called “a completely different person.” A final city scene suggests that she is beginning to reclaim her identity and imagine a future beyond Daniel and the relationship that betrayed her.

Subtle, atmospheric and open to interpretation, Saari asks whether people are defined by their worst decisions, and what reconciliation means when the damage cannot simply be undone.

After more than 10 years of work, the film’s world premiere at the River Valley Film Festival is especially meaningful. Both L’Esperance and Seegmueller attended film school in Philadelphia, making the Pennsylvania premiere a return to the state where their filmmaking journeys began.

Seegmueller hopes the film encourages audiences to examine their own choices and personal histories.

“What does that say about you?” he asked. “What does that say about your story and your own narrative?”

Saari will have its world premiere at the 2026 River Valley Film Festival. Seegmueller will attend the premiere in person, while members of L’Esperance’s family are expected to represent him at the festival.

Jack White stepped in when Charley Crockett accidentally hired, then fired, a satanic doo-wop duo. Happens to everyone, right?

The outlaw country singer apparently thought the husband-and-wife duo known as Twin Temple were like Black Sabbath when he invited them to open two shows for him this week, a July 14 date in Troutdale, Ore., and another on July 18 in Paso Robles. With songs including “Satan’s a Woman,” “Lucifer, My Love,” “Let’s Have a Satanic Orgy” and “Burn Your Bible,” it’s anyone’s guess how Crockett missed the duo’s shtick.

“Today we were informed that Charley Crockett has decided to remove Twin Temple from his upcoming shows next week due to our Satanic imagery,” the musicians wrote on Instagram last week.

“Unfortunately, that means we will not be able to perform for you next week as planned. We are really disappointed as we were looking forward to getting back out and seeing you, and also what it meant as far as bringing different types of people and music lovers together. We are sorry to everyone who was planning to see us.

“We’re grateful for your support, not only of Twin Temple, but more importantly of artistic freedom. HAIL SATAN! 93/93”

Crockett, who dropped his 16th studio album, “Age of the Ram,” in April, posted his own since-deleted message on social media, writing, “Hail Satan? Not me Jack.”

Twin Temple, composed of married couple Alexandra and Zachary James, weren’t out of work for long. White, the former White Stripes frontman, who happened to be kicking off a world tour in support of his new album, “Frozen Charlotte,” caught wind of the debacle and stepped in.

“Twin Temple, Would you like to open my show in L.A. on September 29th at the Hollywood Palladium? Let me know,” White posted on Friday, adding, “Get in front of me Satan!”

The duo was quick to accept, commenting on White’s invite, “Unholy hell…. Sir Jack, you have no idea what this means to us. Lifelong fans- dead leaves on the dirty ground was one of the first songs I (Alex) ever learned on guitar. We were actually planning on coming to this show. It would be a most infernal pleasure to play the devils music with you.”

On Tuesday, Twin Temple announced their third record, “Doomed Lovers,” produced by Shooter Jennings (who also produced Crockett’s “Age of the Ram” and other recent albums). The album will drop Oct. 9 via their own Pentagrammaton Records. The duo told Rolling Stone on Tuesday that they were sad about the turn of events with Crockett but confirmed that their swanky Satan-loving doo-wop isn’t a sham.

“Satan’s the original outlaw, right? He’s a rebel angel,” Alexandra told the outlet. “He’s the one who questioned authority, fought for himself, refused to bow down or conform, and was like non serviam. That was a metaphor that resonated very strongly with me.”

She added, “It’s really fun to go shopping for a human skull and a Ronettes record in the same day, and we get to do that with our band.”

While Twin Temple has been booking shows and working on the album announcement, Crockett has continued to post about the drama from the road. “Well, now I know how it feels when they try to cancel you on the right AND the left,” he wrote on Facebook on Monday. “The thing is, I never subscribed. America can be a One Eyed Jack, but I’ve seen your other side.”