Producers: Uberto Pasolini, James Clayton, Roberto Sessa, Kostantinos Kontovrakis and Paolo del Brocco Director: Uberto Pasolini Screenplay: Edward Bond, John Collee and Uberto Pasolini Cast: Ralph Fiennes, Juliette Binoche, Charlie Plummer, Marwan Kenzari, Claudio Santamaria, Ángela Molina, Tom Rhys Harries, Nikitas Tsakiroglou, Jamie Andrew Cutler, Moe Bar-El, Amir Wilson, Jaz Hutchins, Hugh Quarshie, Chris Corrigan, Aaron Cobham and Amesh Edireweera Distributor: Bleecker Street
Grade: B
The old adage is that even Homer nods, but the ponderous pacing of “The Return,” Uberto Pasolini’s revisionist take on the ending of “The Odyssey,” might just make some viewers nod off instead. If you can tune in to the film’s somber wavelength, however, you will appreciate it as a thoughtful reflection on the traumatic toll war inevitably takes on even the most hardened and celebrated of soldiers.
The two great Greek epics ascribed to Homer, the “Iliad” and “The Odyssey,” tell the tale—in part at least—of the legendary Trojan War. In the latter work Odysseus, the clever king of the island of Ithaca who conceived the stratagem of the Trojan horse, goes through a long series of adventures trying to get back home to his patient wife Penelope and young son Telemachus. Once back, he must contend with the many suitors who have congregated to demand Penelope to choose one of them as her new husband, eventually killing them all with Telemachus’ help and reclaiming his throne.
The script for “The Return,” by Edward Bond, John Collee and Pasolini, jettisons all of Homer’s references to divine intervention and ignores the ten-year string of trials that prevented Odysseus from reaching Ithaca after Troy’s fall. Instead, it begins with Odysseus (Ralph Fiennes) washing up naked on the island’s shore, taken in and tended by the faithful swineherd Eumaeus (Claudio Santamaria), who does not recognize his old master. (Initially, as in Homer, only Odysseus’ old hunting dog Argos does; the animal then promptly dies.)
Meanwhile Telemachus (Charlie Plummer) suffers humiliation at the hands of the suitors led by preening Pisander (Tom Rhys Harries) and quietly threatening Antinous (Marwan Kenzari), and Penelope (Juliette Binoche) tends to her weaving, preparing a funeral shawl for her addled father-in-law Laertes (Nikitas Tsakiroglou). She promises to choose a new husband after completing it but prolongs the process by undoing each night what she’s woven during the day, hoping for her husband’s appearance before the deception is discovered.
This Odysseus is not Homer’s hero. He’s a broken man, haunted by all the men who ventured with him on the expedition twenty years earlier and perished while he survived, and unable to forget the horrors of battle and everything he’s suffered since the end of combat. At one point he muses that for some soldiers, war becomes home, a place they’re forced to remain in even after the carnage is over. He embodies the traumatic effect of war on its participants and the struggle to adjust to “normalcy” that poses intractable obstacles. It’s a subject “The Return” shares with “The Best Years of Our Lives,” though the times and circumstances of the two films are profoundly different.
Fiennes gives an impressive performance as a man in anguish over what he’s become, wondering whether he’s worthy of the wife he left behind or of the son who hopes for his father’s return on the one hand but is angry over his absence on the other, a boy torn between wanting to confront the suitors and begging his mother to choose one of them. He also proves physically convincing when Odysseus eventually decides to shed his beggars’ clothing and stand up to the men ravaging his realm—the narrative retains the challenge Penelope sets down for the suitors to string her husband’s bow and successfully shoot an arrow through a gauntlet of axes—and mow them down. Plummer, on the other hand, has some difficulty with the abrupt changes in his character’s attitudes, understandably since the screenplay doesn’t really manage to explain them adequately. (When he decides to leave Ithaca at the close, as his father explains, “to find himself,” you might agree that it’s a goal that might apply to both Telemachus and the actor playing him.)
The two do combine, though, in a rousing closing bloodbath that, as staged by Pasolini and cinematographer Marius Panduru and edited by David Charap, should go some way to satisfy those disappointed by the absence of CGI monsters, gods and goddesses. Binoche, meanwhile, projects the steadfastness of Penelope though Pasolini’s solemn approach doesn’t allow for much emotional demonstrativeness on her part; she demonstrates the character’s steeliness mostly through the glare of her eyes.
As for the rest, Santamaria makes a strapping Eumaeus, while Ángela Molina has some telling moments as Eurycleia, the elderly nurse who recognizes Odysseus from an old scar, as does Tsakiroglou as the doddering “old king” for whom Penelope is weaving that funeral shawl. Among the suitors Tom Rhys Harries has little trouble embodying the pugnacious Pisander, but like Plummer Kenzari has some bringing Antinous into focus. On the one hand his smooth, oily pursuit of Penelope possesses understated menace (and, as some of his colleagues suggest, real desire), but his abrupt changes of attitude about Telemachus, at one point protecting him as a means of persuading Penelope to accept his suit and then suddenly advocating for his murder, seem arbitrary.
One thing that truly stands out in “The Return,” however, is the starkness of the settings, as designed by Giuliano Pannuti and shot by Panduru on striking locations in Corfu, the Peloponnesus and Italy. As befits Pasolini’s take on the material, Rachel Portman contributes a mostly mournful score, which nonetheless perks up during the action scenes.
There will be those who regret that “The Return” doesn’t tackle “The Odyssey” in all its mythological glory, but previous attempts to do so, on screens big and small, have been pretty dismal. This film offers a revisionist take on Odysseus’ fabled homecoming that possesses universal resonance, and, propelled by a powerful performance from Fiennes, proves both intelligent and moving. But appreciating it does require a viewer’s patience.