Spoiler Warning – I recommend reading this blog after watching the movie, though it feels silly adding a spoiler warning to a review of… you know, The Odyssey. I discuss major themes and key scenes of the adaptation and some elements of the ending.

Why the hell is my phone alarm going off at 11 PM on a Saturday night? Surely this is some sort of glitch, or a prank by my partner, anything else but my own stupid decision. Then the fog of my disoriented mind clears I remember it’s all my fault. I have an IMAX ticket to see the new adaptation of The Odyssey for the only time with some decent seats on the film’s opening weekend—1:50 AM on Sunday morning.

As I spooned my cat on the couch, fighting off the grogginess trying to drag me back to bed, I came dangerously close to requesting a refund on my ticket several times. It would only be a convenience fee down the drain, but I knew deep down this would be worth it, even if I didn’t end up loving the movie. If Odysseus can make his way back from Troy, I guess I can get from Queens to Manhattan and only complain a little bit.

I was never too far from my D’Aulaires Book of Greek Myths through my formative years. I loved how strange and mystical these stories were, with heroes, Gods, and Goddesses that were glorious and flawed, both infinitely wise and foolish. Digging into Greek tragedies and some less sanitized retellings of the myths for Classics courses in college also kept that fascination alive, with Euripides’ The Bacchae standing out as one of the most impactful works I read in that time. I’ve read Homer’s Odyssey before, but my memory of it was foggy since my last reading was about decade, or one Odyssey, ago.

I finally stopped waffling and chugged a mug of instant coffee, packed a book for the trip (Swim Home to the Vanished by Brendan Shay Basham, which I’m enjoying so far), and started heading to the AMC Kips Bay 15 theater around half past midnight. It was a relief to breath in fresh post-storm air on my walk to the L train after the past week of climate change-aggravated wildfire haze clogging the skies. You can finally see the Manhattan skyline clearly again after several awful days, so let’s celebrate that by staring at an IMAX screen at an ungodly hour!

I don’t usually feel the need to rush to a movie on opening weekend, even when I’m looking forward to it. I quite enjoy Nolan’s films, but I streamed Oppenheimer at home, and watched Tenet on the plane returning from my honeymoon last year. He did absolutely hook me on the IMAX hype with this one, though. The idea that new epic sword and sandal fantasy film could emerge from the bleak landscape of modern Hollywood was a delightful surprise to me, so I knew I wanted to get my ass in a theater to see it on a huge screen and be part of this conversation.

I got off the train the East Village and a bus zipped me up north to Kips Bay. I slipped into my seat, paid my respects to Nicole Kidman when she appeared, and settled in. Sure, I was mildly worried that the late night audience could be disruptive. My experiences with fellow moviegoers have been truly hit or miss lately, but I’m happy to report that the packed theater watched the whole movie in rapt, reverent silence.

I had a wonderful time letting this movie wash over me. You could taste the rage of Poseidon in those stormy open ocean scenes, and low-lit sequences like the harrowing siege of Troy, or the pulse pounding Cyclops encounter, made painterly use of flame-licked darkness. The grand, ambitious images were as breathtaking as I expected, but Nolan’s screenwriting paired with the formidable ensemble cast’s performances in smaller dialogue scenes kept me just as engaged, which I wasn’t necessarily expecting.

Nolan’s script isn’t subtle, but the exploration of Odysseus’ journey and the rippling effects of his legendary trick at Troy, is clearly in conversation with Oppenheimer in a fascinating way. Like the trance of the lotus flower, Nolan’s thrilling action scenes lulled me into complacent summer blockbuster excitement at first, but the tone takes a darker edge as we reach the grotesque body horror of the Circe encounter, with a cutting performance by Samantha Morton to boot, and then the chilling journey to commune with Tiresias and the shades of Hades.

There are so many great performances I could mention, but I have to shout out Elliott Page as Sinon. It was a beautiful full-circle moment to see him return to a Nolan movie so many years after Inception. Besides Travis Scott’s bard who introduces the story, Sinon is the very first character we meet. He has come of age during the Trojan War under Odysseus’ command, and is killed by Trojans without knowing his master is within the horse he was watching over. His bitter confrontation with Odysseus in Hades, where he rebukes the legendary master tactician for sacrificing one of his most loyal soldiers as an unknowing pawn in his strategy, is one of the film’s best scenes.

Nolan also develops this reversal with how he returns to the fall of Troy throughout the film. We see a few snippets of it while Odysseus comes out of his lotus-induced haze on Calypso’s island, and as the hardened Spartan king, Menelaus, reflects on the War with Telemachus. The weight of his guilt catches up with Odysseus at the end of his journey, and we then bear witness to the full massacre and destruction of Troy that haunts him. What we first saw cast in a more heroic light descends into horrific barbarism, with the violence against Trojan citizens and destruction of the city brought to the forefront instead of the exciting clashes between soldiers and tense push to get the city’s gate open we glimpse in Menelaus’ memory.

Watching The Odyssey reminded me of other classic Hollywood epics based, such as Jason and the Argonauts or Spartacus. It’s exciting to see modern filmmaker’s readings of these ancient, enduring characters and epic scenes, inevitably revealing a little of themselves in how they bring them to life. We should have a film industry that allows more of these interpretations, and not just from the biggest names like Nolan.

The mild sleep deprivation and major excitement of making the journey in the first place probably helped me appreciate the action and emotion of the experience more easily, but I don’t see a need to dull how I feel about this first experience just because I may notice more quibbles with the film on a second, more rested viewing. Spilling out onto 2nd Avenue after the credits rolled around dawn, I felt more energized than at any other point that night. I opted to ride a Citi Bike home and caught a beautiful view of the East River as I biked across the Williamsburg bridge.

I left the movie wanting to know all the little details about how Nolan and his crew pulled it off, but beyond the cinematic ambition that amazed me, I also felt my longtime love of myths reignite after many years as a smoldering ember within me. Replaying Hades 2, even if they have a hot Zaddy Odysseus in the game, won’t be sufficient. I’m planning on devouring a Euripides collection I grabbed at a used bookstore, exploring more of Ovid’s Metamorphosis after only reading snippets in college, and would love to break out of my Greco-Roman bias with the myths and fables I know most about.

Obviously, when I got home I crashed and crashed hard, feeling rough and hungover without drinking a sip of alcohol. Did I basically throw my Sunday in the trash for this experience? Yes, pretty much, but I’m very glad I made this reckless choice, even if I’m still (im)patiently waiting for my friends to catch up with me and watch it. Even if I start to cool on the film as time goes on, this viewing experience has cemented itself in my heart as an all-time great night at the movies I’ll always look back on fondly.