Watching Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey reminds me that Interstellar, which he also directed, was not just about a man trying to find his way home. What is home, though? What does home really mean? A destination? A person? A memory? Or the version of ourselves we return to when life hits?
For most of the film, I was not thinking about monsters or gods, thanks to Nollywood. Rather, I was focused on the characters and the scenes. I guess that comes with being a Nolan fan.
On second thought, should this really be about home, or about the temptations of mankind? Conquering Troy at the expense of civilisation. Agamemnon sacrificing his daughter for victory, only to end up victorious and killed by his wife. Odysseus losing twenty years away from his family, leaving them to the hunger of power.
Seeing the characters navigate temptation, how it promises comfort but quietly demands pieces of them in return. Giving away what can be easily replaced is not sacrifice, that is convenience. The altar of sacrifice leaves a sacred space behind. You feel it.
Another scene that stood out was the Song of the Sirens. It silently screams that the greatest temptations are rarely the loudest. Leaving out the sound of the sirens was an absolute masterpiece, Christopher Nolan doing his thing. The sound never came on. I guess that is Nolan's way of telling us to reflect on our own and let our imagination lead. Or maybe that is because temptation is deeply personal, rooted in our desires. What calls A may never call B. We do not all hear the same song.
The film also reminded me that discipline is rarely about denying ourselves pleasure. It is about understanding that satisfying every desire only teaches desire to ask for more. Gluttony is not just about food. It can be ambition without purpose, power without restraint, recognition without contentment. Every excess begins with a desire that was never questioned.
Not to mention the scene that references the pain of the mind being more traumatic than the pain of the body. Physical wounds usually heal. Memory does not always.
Regret, guilt, grief. They travel with us far longer than broken bones ever could. Probably why the journey home feels so important, not just to return to a place but to return to peace. A state of mind where the clearest view is from below.
Then again, there is the part that reminds us that you do not really know someone's character just by standing beside them. You discover it when they have power over you.
Nolan further shows that leadership has never been about authority but about what it reveals. Like AJS once said, all blessings come from God through men to men. No matter how many people help us along the way, there comes a point where we have to make the next decision ourselves. Mentors, friends, loved ones can guide, warn, save you from a burning fire, but no one can live it for you. You eventually bear the consequences of your choice.
Maybe that is what every journey home is really about. Not finding the place you left, but becoming the person who is finally ready to arrive.