There were rumors, you see, and that was sufficient evidence
for idiots like Rob Finnerty of Newsmax and the terminally self-important and generally wrong Elon Musk to
decry the casting of, in Finnerty’s words, “a girl who dresses as a guy who’s
five-foot-one, 118 pounds” as “the greatest warrior in history.” Even Finnerty acknowledges that Page would
“reportedly” play Achilles, but the rest of his screed works on the assumption
that the rumors should indeed be believed. The once savvy Jack Marshall launched into a diatribe against “wokeness” and “stunt casting,” writing that Page
“was cast” as Achilles. No room for
skepticism when there is righteous dudgeon just waiting to be spewed!
Guess what? Page
isn’t playing Achilles! There is indeed
some question as to whether Achilles even appears, either as a ghost or in a
flashback. The preview showing of the
film happened a couple of nights ago, and Curmie can’t find any commentary he’d
regard as trustworthy that says anything one way or the other. Someone on Reddit says Achilles isn’t in the
film, but Curmie isn’t betting the mortgage on that assurance.
Curmie confesses that it has been a very long time since he
last read Homer, but does think it would be a little strange not to have
Achilles appear, either as a shade in the underworld or in a flashback scene,
especially since the role Page actually is playing, Sinon, doesn’t appear
anywhere in Homer at all. The character
is best known to us through Vergil’s Aeneid. He was the Greek soldier, a cousin of
Odysseus, who allows himself to be captured by the Trojans, pretends to be a
deserter, and convinces them to bring the Trojan Horse inside the city gates.
Page’s Sinon isn’t going to over-power the Trojans, but
that’s not his job. He outwits them
instead, and Page’s charisma and facility with language would seem to be
appropriate qualifications for the role.
It’s also worth pointing out that Greek men in that period didn’t really
have a lot of choice about whether they’d go to war. You couldn’t opt out because you were
small. Moreover, Page’s diminutive size could
actually be used to advantage for this particular role, making the subterfuge
that Sinon had been forsaken or sacrificed by the Greek army more plausible. Of course, we don
Curmie is just spit-balling here, but there are, or at the
very least could be, good and appropriate reasons to cast Elliot Page. Plus, of course, there’s the likelihood that
Nolan and Page just like working with each other. There’s plenty of hot air about how Nolan
cast Page to have a better chance at an Oscar.
That’s true to the extent that Page is a good actor, thereby making the
film better, but the movie had already met those dumb “inclusion” requirements through other means, and Sinon is unlikely to be a big enough role to qualify
as “significant,” anyway.
Curmie does note that he was led to believe that Page would
probably take on the role of Elpenor (who at least appears in Homer’s
epic!). This rumor, too, was regarded as
definitive by a lot of folks as recently as last week. Curmie does point out, however, that he
italicized the words “reported” and “expected” in his post back in May, suggesting
that whereas the Elpenor rumor, unlike the Achilles rumor, was at least
plausible, he wasn’t going to suggest that such casting was indeed a fact.
So, there are, unsurprisingly, those who feel the need to
complain for the sake of complaining about changing Homer’s plotline,
adding the Sinon character. <Sigh.> Adaptations, additions, and edits have been a
part of the business since, well, at least as far back as Homer, who drew from
other versions of what we’d now call mythological tales. Greek tragedies borrowed (stole?) from Homer,
Hesiod, and whoever else was handy. The Aeschylean,
Sophoclean, and Euripidean versions of the murders of Clytemnestra and
Aegisthus by Orestes and Electra differ from each other in significant
ways. (Euripides’ Electra
actually makes fun of Aeschylus’s Libation Bearers.) More recently, if you see an author’s name as
part of a movie title (“Agatha Christie’s this,” “Bram Stoker’s that”), you can
pretty much take it to the bank that there is little if any relationship
between the film version and the original book.
Much of Curmie’s career as a scholar concentrated on these adaptations. There’s no such thing as a direct
translation, of course, but there are certainly adapted works that try to keep
as closely as possible to the original.
Others, there’s just a hint. For
example, there’s Brian Friel’s play Living Quarters: After Hippolytus. Without the subtitle, even a perceptive and well-educated
theatre-goer might miss the reference, as there are a lot of differences between
Friel’s version and Euripides’, extending far past character names and
settings. Some of these adaptations
really work; some don’t, usually because they beat the reader/spectator over
the head with their presumed contemporary relevance.
Curmie isn’t going to talk about whether an idea worked or
didn’t until he sees the final product.
He can speculate, as he did in discussing the Arena Stage production of Inherit the Wind,
but that’s as far as he’ll go. He could
watch “The Odyssey” and love it… or hate it… or think it was “meh.” He could think including Sinon or casting
Page was brilliant or stupid or somewhere in-between. But Christopher Nolan has proven to be
someone who makes a lot of good choices, and Curmie isn’t going to criticize
him without knowing a lot more than he does now.
Reviews from the London screening have all been positive,
even enthusiastic. Whether you or I
agree, Gentle Reader, will be a matter of individual taste. Maybe we think Nolan hit the proverbial home run;
maybe we think he hit a lazy one-hop grounder to the shortstop… or struck
out. But one thing we must agree on is
that he handled the casting controversies, especially the bit involving Elliot
Page, brilliantly. We know that he is
heavily involved in the marketing of his films, and he got mountains of
publicity for a project that hadn’t been released yet… and made the right-wing
pundits look like idiots in the process.
Whether Nolan actively encouraged the mistaken belief that Page was to
play Achilles or just sat back to watch the self-inflicted carnage almost doesn’t
matter.
There’s one other aspect that Curmie, as a theatre historian, can’t help but mention. When the famous Playboy riots happened at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin in 1907, the theatre’s directors kept the doors open. For several nights, the audience couldn’t hear the performance over the boos of the protestors. But—key point here—those folks had to buy a ticket to get inside to boo. And a lot of other people wanted to see what all the fuss was about. They bought tickets, too. Curmie predicts “The Odyssey” will sell well, whether or not it’s a great, or even good, film. Whatever you think of him as a director, Christopher Nolan is a bright lad. Or maybe he just paid attention in Theatre History class.
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