odyssey

The Financial Times turned heads when it got the scoop that the Venezuelan government is to reveal a debt pile of over $240 billions in its recently announced foreign debt restructuring, well over previous estimates of around $150-200 bn. Although this was sold as a shocker, it’s actually misleading because it validates the false claim that all of Venezuela’s incurred debt (whether written in a contract registered with the SEC or a whisky-soaked napkin) has the same validity and ought to be paid or else to re-enter international finance markets and attract foreign investment. The truth is that not all debts are created equal, nor do Venezuelans have to pay for all of it. So what is the actual extent of debt Venezuela has to pay? And given the recent announcement, what are the chances of Delcy & Co. of pulling this off?

What is the actual debt?

Venezuela faces late payments and arrears for sovereign and PDVSA bonds issued in the US with ironclad legal and conflict-resolution provisions in US courts. All of this debt is easily quantifiable, as it was approved by the Venezuelan parliament, in the case of the Republic, or included in financial statements, in the case of PDVSA. This amounts to $60 bn, plus $40 bn in arrears. This debt is legally valid and backed by evidence, and has many provisions on cross-default and other legal remedies for bondholders. Its successful restructuring is necessary for the country to re-enter international financial markets. Thus, it is the one that requires urgent attention and probably more willingness to compromise. Some question the validity of the 2020 PDVSA bond, which was issued with a lien over the shares of Citgo’s holding company, but a recent ruling by a NY court established that the bond was validly issued, and it was a taste of the results that a strategy of contesting these bonds in courts (with provisions drafted by the best lawyers money can buy) will yield instead of negotiating.

Venezuela also owes $20 bn in unpaid arbitral awards for the expropriation extravaganza of the late Hugo Chávez. These unpaid arbitral awards expose the country to international litigation and seizure of assets, while not as fundamental to restore access to international finance as the bonds. Its payment is necessary to assuage international markets and foreign investors. There is also $4 bn in debt to development banks, which is very important to honor to regain market access and restore investor confidence.

All of this amounts, in a worst-case scenario, to around $200 bn. If the debt restructuring is indeed a serious endeavor, it will focus on renegotiating these amounts, particularly the bonds.

Venezuela also owes around $50 bn to suppliers and contractors of the oil industry. Settling this debt is necessary to significantly increase oil production. However, as much of this debt has not been properly audited and may include creditors involved in corruption schemes, quantifying, negotiating, and paying it will probably take more time, and the focus should be on paying the companies that the country needs to re-engage to increase oil production and recover oil infrastructure.

Venezuela also owes China around $10-20 bn under an “oil-for-loan” financing mechanism from the Chávez era. Given that China is a major global power player, it is important to honor this debt. The Chinese and chavismo had already negotiated oil shipments to service debt, and the Chinese are very well aware of the mistake this scheme was and will probably be accommodating as long as they keep getting paid.

Non-kosher debt

You are probably wondering why I do not mention Cadivi and unpaid FX claims in the total debt. The catch is that unsettled Cadivi claims are not foreign debt proper, but administrative authorizations to convert local currency into FX under a foreign exchange control regime. In past foreign exchange controls in Venezuela, case law determined that these authorizations were not enforceable debt and claimants took the loss and were never paid. This will happen again.

Venezuela also owes Russia around $6 bn. Considering the current circumstances, its restructuring and payment can wait.

Venezuela needs a bailout, which can only come from the IMF. But IMF intervention is an impossible demand right now for Delcy Rodríguez.

All of this amounts, in a worst-case scenario, to around $200 bn. If the debt restructuring is indeed a serious endeavor, it will focus on renegotiating these amounts, particularly the bonds. The Financial Times does not mention where this $40 bn difference comes from. Any debt that was not approved by Congress or was issued not following the legal procedure does not have to be included pari passu with the debt issued to Wall Street and the World Bank, and Venezuela is not obliged to pay it to borrow money again. Argentina did not have to renegotiate all of its debt to re-enter the credit market. Any other hidden debt that comes up during a restructuring can be challenged in court and the Venezuelan government can refuse to pay. We will not further mortgage our country’s future more than necessary to access international credit markets to enrich shady actors who profited from our misery and didn’t even bother to hire good lawyers for when shit hit the fan.

Can this work?

Renegotiating a sovereign debt this massive without the support of the IMF would be daunting to our brightest minds, not to mention to Delcy’s few English-speaking minions. There are huge obstacles in the way. PDVSA remains governed by a 19th-century bankruptcy regime that makes it very difficult to restructure its debt efficiently. Moreover, its bonds do not have collective action clauses, or CACs, meaning they can only be renegotiated with 100% agreement of bondholders, which, like in the case of Argentina, could lead to holdouts and years of litigation. Most of the bonds issued by the Republic do have CACs, so they would be easier to renegotiate with a haircut (reduction in their notional value).

So what is the most likely outcome? I remain skeptical about the seriousness of this whole enterprise. Without IMF support, Venezuela, with meager international reserves and a severe balance-of-payments constraint, simply cannot produce enough foreign currency for necessary imports, much less for servicing debt. This is a severe structural barrier. Venezuela needs a bailout, which can only come from the IMF.

IMF intervention is an impossible demand right now for Delcy Rodríguez. First, because it would imply fiscal austerity that would probably lead to social unrest for an already incredibly unpopular president with zero legitimacy. Additionally, the Washington Consensus has been a bête noire for chavismo since its inception, and would put her even more at odds with factions of her already fragile coalition.

Maybe there is a scenario where they will be able to negotiate some of the debt (probably in predatory terms for Venezuelans) with some liens or guarantees over oil assets. But considering the dire state of the country’s finances, the absence of the IMF from the process, the lack of any macroeconomic reforms that will enable the country to service debt again, and the “technical shortcomings” of the people running the show, even this seems unlikely.

The announcement of the debt restructuring was more of a gimmick to gain time—one of chavismo’s true gifts—by the Rodrigato to appease both the US and the naive bondholders who helped to put her in power. But, once again, there are no shortcuts to any meaningful change in the country’s economy that do not involve the now dreaded T-word: “transition.”

After just six days in theaters, Sony Pictures’ “Spider-Man: Brand New Day” has now raked in more than $1 billion in global box office revenue.

The movie is the second-fastest film ever to reach the 10-figure milestone, bested only by Walt Disney Co. and Marvel Studios’ 2019 hit “Avengers: Endgame.”

“Brand New Day” has now earned $407 million in the U.S. and Canada, with an additional $645.8 million in international box office receipts for a global total of $1.05 billion, according to studio estimates. Its $360 million domestic opening last weekend now ranks as the highest ever.

The movie was produced by Sony-owned Columbia Pictures, as well as Marvel Studios and Pascal Pictures. The film’s production budget was about $225 million.

The filmmakers, as well as box office analysts, have credited the movie’s emotional storyline and focus on the web slinger’s internal conflict for connecting with audiences and giving a fresh take on a familiar franchise and genre. It also doesn’t hurt that its stars, Tom Holland and Zendaya, are two of the most popular actors in the business, both of whom are also fresh off appearances in Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey.”

Together, “Brand New Day” and Universal Pictures’ “The Odyssey” powered last weekend’s three-day domestic box office total to a new best with $436.5 million, according to data from Rentrak. The summer so far stands at $3.6 billion, up 16.7% compared to last year’s middling season and running just 0.7% behind the pre-pandemic summer of 2019, according to Rentrak.

The so far has given analysts hope that the domestic box office could finally reach $10 billion by the end of the year for the first time since the COVID-19 pandemic.

In the spirit of Zeus’ law to be generous toward guests, I’m honored to welcome classics professor Emily Wilson to the land of film criticism. As she’s recently learned, it’s an adventure that sails smack into islands of musky internet trolls and clashes with cinematic and literary titans like Christopher Nolan and Joyce Carol Oates.

Nolan credits the opening line of Wilson’s 2017 translation of Homer’s “The Odyssey” — “Tell me about a complicated man” — as partly inspiring his adaptation of the ancient epic, which, nearly a month into its release, is soldiering toward a billion-dollar box office gross. Symbiotically, Wilson’s edition is now the No. 2 bestselling book in the country. That Wilson’s incendiary essay in the London Review of Books revealed she doesn’t think much of Nolan’s blockbuster struck some as hubris, including Oates, who took to social media to decry the scholar’s “tone of dismissal” and “haughty superiority.”

If you haven’t been following the controversy, Wilson felt that Nolan had flattened the saga by mostly erasing the Greek gods and Odysseus’ wit, lust and thorny contradictions. Oates likened the tone of Wilson’s critique to the “crude language of MAGA folks.” In short: Wilson snuck a 2,700-year-old poem through the gates of mainstream taste — and after that victory, her arrogance left her marooned.

Sounds familiar if you’ve read Homer. Less so if you’ve only seen the film. Wilson is right that Nolan’s movie lacks Odysseus’ egomaniacal brilliance.

I’m here to play peacemaker. Wilson adores Odysseus so much that she has his bow tattooed on her right leg. Frankly, Nolan doesn’t seem to like the wily, libidinous and violent trickster-veteran of the poem — half Rhett Butler, half Rambo in “First Blood” — as much as Wilson or I do. Because if he did, that Odysseus would be onscreen.

But having seen his movie twice, it’s obvious that Nolan is less interested in Wilson’s first line than her fifth: “Tell the old story for our modern times.” That, he’s done. His take on Homer is, as I wrote in my original review, “a moralistic ‘Oppenheimer’ prequel.” For the record, I like it anyway.

Film critics and translators start work in the same place. Step one: What is the artist’s intent? Wilson considered the entirety of Homer’s tale and decided the right word for polytropos was “complicated.” I weighed what Nolan chose to protect, tweak and abandon in his own version and concluded that he wanted to make an action-tragedy about societal decline.

Movies must be measured against their own ambitions. A stoner comedy can’t be graded like a Shakespearean drama (and vice versa). Here’s where Wilson runs aground. She wants to allow Nolan creative freedom, knowing that the Greek playwrights rebooted figures like Odysseus and Medea just like Marvel treats Spider-Man. There’s even a spinoff of the original poem in which Odysseus has kids with Circe.

Yet, storytellers have to protect the core of their characters. Medea must be angry, Spider-Man must be helpful and Odysseus, dang it, must have swagger. Damon doesn’t.

This is why Wilson deserves empathy even if she can’t bring herself to grant Nolan the same grace. As a professor of classics at the University of Pennsylvania, she’ll be on the front line of academics condemned to unteach Nolan’s heavily altered screenplay to students who will arrive quoting it chapter and verse. For decades to come, high school kids — probably even a few high school teachers — are just going to pop in his Blu-ray and call it a day.

Nolan does hit his target, eventually. Yet his script wobbles. He’s made a movie about Odysseus’ remorse for inventing the Trojan horse without a crucial scene: the moment he invents it. We see Odysseus silently stroll the beach outside Troy, but not the pride he must have felt running back to base to pitch an idea that will finish the war and let his allies go home. The emotional arc Nolan wants to trace should start there. The beat’s absence is confounding since Odysseus also needs to appear clever (and never does).

This is what it means to measure a film against its ambitions. Only after we accept that Nolan is solely interested in human mistakes can we gauge his disregard for the Greek gods. I dig that choice — it’s bold — yet still think he flubs it by not replacing the magical powers of Charlize Theron’s Calypso and Zendaya’s Athena with, say, a personality. What a waste of two terrific actors. It’s no wonder Oates stuck up for him. Her novel “Blonde” also stripped the agency from love goddess Marilyn Monroe and its own 2022 movie adaptation launched a thousand hot takes.

There will never be a faithful modern film version of “The Odyssey.” No, not even whatever AI slop Elon Musk claims he’s green-lighted, a project I’m sure will come to fruition as fast as his any-year-now claim that he’s landing on Mars.

The issue isn’t just the poem’s length. It’s that today’s audiences have zero stomach for happy endings about horrible wrongs. We can barely rationalize the slaughter of the suitors. No one wants to watch Homer’s gory scene after that, when Telemachus cruelly orders a dozen enslaved girls to clean up the mess and then executes them too.

Only a seven-and-a-half hour Italian miniseries produced by Dino de Laurentiis in 1968 dares mention that second bloodbath and even in that, the women are hung offscreen after we’ve been assured (fictitiously) that the maids tried to kill them first. (Side note: Dino’s Penelope, played by the mighty Irene Papas, is my favorite.)

Previous movie adaptations of “The Odyssey” soft-pedal or ignore the hero’s postwar PTSD. You catch a glimpse of it in the two-part NBC special from 1997 in which Armand Assante’s Odysseus rescues a Trojan toddler. But mainly, he spends more time hot-tubbing with Vanessa Williams’ Calypso.

That’s not a knock. The ’90s “Odyssey” is as tacky as Caesars Palace but Assante’s smooth-talking horndog is closer to my ideal Odysseus than Damon’s neutered mope. He sleeps with both Calypso and Circe and still earns his tender reunion with Penelope by choosing her beloved wrinkles over those gods’ immortal perfection. (For what it’s worth, Oates is a fan of it too. Wilson has yet to comment.)

Only the two most recent versions — Nolan’s and Uberto Pasolini’s 2024 “The Return,” starring a sinewy Ralph Fiennes — center on Odysseus’ culpability for the carnage of the Trojan War. Damon’s Odysseus is numbed by the massacre of Troy’s civilians; Fiennes’ hates himself for leading the best men of Ithaca to their death, gutting his own community in the heedless destruction of another. I’m tempted to diagnose the current gloom as the result of our own post-9/11 forever wars.

The 21st century has seen enough genocide for Homer to compose a hundred sequels. Only those stubbornly ignorant to the human cost of actual combat would be psyched to bring on more of it. (Just ask the veterans in my family how they feel things are going in Iran.) At the end of “The Return,” when Fiennes stands entrail-smeared before his beloved Penelope, she recoils from the horror of the battlefield brought right into their home.

That interpretation has its flaws too. The middle stretch has a concocted outdoor chase sequence that feels like a clumsy campground slasher. Wilson applauded its “stylish sparseness.” Fair enough. I’d still love to invite her and Nolan and even Oates to a banquet of wine and roasted fowl and have a blast agreeing to disagree. No weapons allowed.

In a book nerd battle that’s become so epic, even The Onion has satirized the saga, acclaimed author Susan Orlean has grabbed the mic, and Emily Wilson is admitting she has one regret in her review of “The Odyssey.”

Earlier this week, Joyce Carol Oates panned Wilson’s critique of Christopher Nolan’s big-screen adaptation, and now acclaimed author and journalist Susan Orlean has entered the chat.

“I loved The Odyssey (saw it twice) and love any piece of art that gets people talking and reading and thinking,” she posted on Threads on Thursday. “Emily Wilson is being a bit of a jerk.”

Choice words from Orlean, but she knows a thing or two about film adaptations: her 1998 book “The Orchid Thief” inspired Spike Jonze’s 2002 film “Adaptation” starring Nicolas Cage and Meryl Streep (who played Orlean), and her 1998 article “Life’s Swell” was brought to screen as “Blue Crush,” also in 2002.

“Why can’t things be the things they are and if they’re different from their source material that’s their new form and their own thing and I SAY THIS FROM EXPERIENCE,” she added in a separate post.

The ire stems from a biting 4,200-word takedown of “The Odyssey” penned by classicist Wilson, who translated Homer’s poem in 2017.

In early interviews discussing the film, Nolan referenced Wilson’s translation, which subsequently skyrocketed in sales. A representative for Audible told The Times on Wednesday that, year over year, purchases of Wilson’s “Odyssey” translation were up by more than 600% across Audible’s U.S., U.K. and Canadian marketplaces.

Wilson’s review, published in the London Review of Books, essentially dubbed Nolan’s film a dud for academics with taste and a blockbuster hit for virgins who like special effects that go “Boom!”

“Nolan’s Odyssey lacks many of the elements that make the poem great. It has nothing convincing to say about time, memory, history, war, or about the relationship between one warrior’s glorious return and the lives of his family, adversaries, comrades, friends and neighbours,” she wrote. “It lacks psychological, emotional, political and ethical depth. Its narrative structure is gimmicky. The writing is abysmal. None of the characters has convincing motivation for their actions or words. There are no sex scenes, and all the food looks horrible.”

Pulitzer Prize finalist Oates, like Orlean, is also team Nolan. “Her tone of dismissal & haughty superiority strike a sour note,” Oates said of Wilson’s review in a post on X. Oates added that rather than Wilson disagreeing with “interpretations of Homer in a collegial manner,” she benefited from Nolan’s film and then attacked it.

Wilson’s review went so viral it crashed the London Review of Books website for a few hours on Monday. On the heels of the missive’s publication, Wilson posted on Bluesky that an earlier draft of the essay was actually more cutting than the version that went live.

“Was I too mean? Or not mean enough? I went through my first draft and tried to take out the snark,” she wrote. “To quote the great poet: ‘Though much is taken, much remains… That which we are, we are.’”

She added in the same thread: “The oddest thing about the response to this essay is people who say it’s ‘personal’. You can disagree about some or all of it! I may well be wrong! But it’s not ‘personal’ to analyze a film or other work of art, even negatively. Criticism is more than ‘Hurray!’ or ‘Hiss!’”

One criticism Wilson admits she regrets in retrospect is her take on Nolan’s race-neutral casting. In the review she wrote that while the casting launched a culture war, it wasn’t actually progressive. She likened the characters portrayed by Zendaya, Lupita Nyong’o, Himesh Patel, Corey Antonio Hawkins and Travis Scott to “versions of the Black best friend, whose only role in the drama is to provide aid to the white protagonist.”

On Bluesky, she wrote, “In this piece, I regret the paragraph about the uses of the POC actors – who are all great, but IMO under-utilized (and why couldn‘t Himesh Patel be Odysseus instead?) I still think the film largely wastes its strong cast, but I framed it badly.”

Days after a classicist who translated Homer’s “The Odyssey” in 2017 eviscerated the Christopher Nolan film based on the poem, Joyce Carol Oates has entered the debate.

She’s Team Nolan.

The National Book Award-winning author is known for her (sometimes controversial) hot takes on social media, and on Wednesday, she stepped up to the plate in opposition of translator Emily Wilson’s brutal takedown of Nolan’s big-screen adaptation of “The Odyssey.” Nolan had previously said Wilson’s translation inspired him in making the film. But Wilson wrote that she would be ashamed to have written any part of the script.

“Her tone of dismissal & haughty superiority strike a sour note,” Oates said of Wilson’s review in a post on X. “Rather than disagreeing with interpretations of Homer in a collegial manner, this person, who has benefited enormously from Nolan’s film, speaks in the crude language of MAGA folks attacking someone with ideas that differ from hers.”

Wilson’s biting missive, published in the London Review of Books this week, went so viral that it reportedly crashed the outlet’s website for a few hours Monday. The British American classicist’s take on the film was especially notable because, last fall, Nolan quoted Wilson’s translation when telling Empire magazine why he was drawn to the story. “I think it’s the Emily Wilson translation that begins, ‘Tell me about a complicated man,’” he said.

Wilson’s version of “The Odyssey” subsequently spiked in sales. A representative for Audible told The Times on Wednesday that, year over year, purchases of Wilson’s “Odyssey” translation were up by more than 600% across Audible’s U.S., U.K. and Canadian marketplaces. Daily global title sales rose nearly sixfold during the week the movie premiered. And in the nine days following wide release, daily global sales averaged around 20 times more than the rate before the premiere, showing sustained demand for Wilson’s translation.

Oates, who penned the Pulitzer Prize-nominated “Blonde,” said that, within the world of translators, Wilson’s review “seems all the more surprising since all translations are, presumably, subjective & not equivalent to the original text.”

“One would expect a translator, of all people, beholden to a text, in service to a text, to be just a wee bit more thoughtful & respectful of others who are acting in good faith just as (she would claim) she is,” Oates wrote.

In separate posts on the social platform, Oates said she highly recommended Nolan’s adaption and that she wasn’t a fan of Wilson’s translation. “What I’d read of Emily Wilson’s translation was not for me,” she wrote, adding that she assumes it was “deliberately written to appeal to an audience comfortable with YA (young adult) directness & spareness of vocabulary — that is, with the intention of being marketable, adopted by high school classes.

“With a more poetic, elevated speech, you are naturally limiting your audience,” continued the author, who further noted that there was nothing wrong with a direct, commercial approach. “Why not profit from a classic work not protected by copyright?”

In the viral review by Wilson, who also translated Seneca and Euripides, as well as Homer’s “Iliad,” she likened Nolan’s nearly three-hour epic to Peter Jackson’s “Lord of the Rings” trilogy and “Game of Thrones.”

Her sharpest critiques were aimed at Nolan’s rendering of Homer’s female characters, of which she said there were more than in his other films “thanks to the source material” but that, in contrast to the poem, none of them “had much to say.” Wilson said Nolan’s race-neutral casting was essentially a wash as “[m]ost of the non-white actors — Zendaya, Lupita Nyong’o, Himesh Patel, Corey Antonio Hawkins, Travis Scott — play versions of the Black best friend, whose only role in the drama is to provide aid to the white protagonist.”

And don’t get her started on the whole point of the poem — the cost of war — of which Wilson quipped, “We are not shown that war or killing are bad, only that good men sometimes feel bad about it — a very different point.”

Emily Wilson, whose translation of Homer’s “The Odyssey” published in 2017 served as inspiration to Christopher Nolan when crafting his blockbuster adaptation of the nearly 2,800-year-old poem, has some thoughts on the film.

In a biting missive for the London Review of Books, the British American classicist dissected Nolan’s work with a scalpel so sharp that he may need to borrow some of Matt Damon’s armor to read it all the way through. Last fall, the acclaimed director quoted Wilson’s translation when telling Empire magazine why he was drawn to the story. “I think it’s the Emily Wilson translation that begins, ‘Tell me about a complicated man,’” he said. “The genius of the character, the cleverness, the inventiveness of him, that was a huge part of what interested me. He’s not just a soldier. He’s an amazing strategist, a very wily person.”

Wilson, although admittedly “humbled” by the nod from the filmmaker, wrote: “But I would be ashamed to have written any part of this script.”

A professor of classical studies at the University of Pennsylvania, Wilson has also translated Seneca and Euripides, as well as Homer’s “Iliad.” In her takedown of the film, she likens Nolan’s nearly three-hour epic to Peter Jackson’s “Lord of the Rings” trilogy and “Game of Thrones” and says that, by the end, she “almost expected everyone to break into Elvish.”

Earlier this month, The Times’ film critic, Amy Nicholson, wrote that “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.”

Wilson appears to share the sentiment.

“Unlike some of Nolan’s other films,” she wrote, “‘The Odyssey’ is not boring, thanks to the source material, which is impossible to mess up entirely. It’s a family-friendly audiovisual spectacle, like an elaborate Fourth of July fireworks display — and with about the same level of narrative and emotional depth.”

When casting was announced for the film, it was no surprise that culture wars broke out over the choice of Oscar-winning actor Lupita Nyong’o to play Helen of Troy, with Elon Musk leading the charge.

Nolan responded, telling the Telegraph earlier this month before the film hit theaters, “These conversations that happen before people see the film — they’re always irrelevant, because no one having them knows what the film actually is yet.”

According to Wilson, Nolan’s race-neutral casting had “nothing progressive about it.”

“Most of the non-white actors — Zendaya, Lupita Nyong’o, Himesh Patel, Corey Antonio Hawkins, Travis Scott — play versions of the Black best friend, whose only role in the drama is to provide aid to the white protagonist,” she wrote.

Wilson zeroes in on the portrayal of Homer’s female characters in another major critique: “There are more female characters than in most Nolan movies, thanks to the source material. But none of them has much to say, in contrast to the [characterizations] in the poem.”

Where Charlize Theron’s Calypso ought to have been angry, funny, skilled in rhetoric and libidinous, according to Wilson, she’s “an unpaid therapist.” On Anne Hathaway’s Penelope, Wilson writes that the script “gives her nothing to do except yearn for Matt Damon, for reasons unknown.” And Zendaya’s Athena “turns out to be a vulnerable victim of war, or perhaps a projection of Odysseus’ conscience — not a scheming and bloodthirsty war goddess.”

And then there’s the human cost of war — the central theme of the film, and one that Wilson says contradicts Homer’s poem.

“The representation of Odysseus as a reluctant warlord makes a nonsense of the movie’s imagined world,” she writes. “We are not shown that war or killing are bad, only that good men sometimes feel bad about it — a very different point. Any serious depiction of violence, ancient or modern, must show the perspectives of the victims as well as the perpetrators, and the Homeric poems easily clear the bar — but Nolan doesn’t.

“The film asks us both to be horrified at war and to celebrate the action-movie sequences in which the reluctant warrior finally gets his hands on his bow and the blood starts flowing.”

Since Nolan announced “The Odyssey” back in December 2024, various versions of the poem have been in high demand at bookshops and libraries — especially the only English version written by a woman: Wilson’s 2017 translation. Louise Brockett, spokeswoman and head of communications at W.W. Norton, told USA Today that domestic sales of Wilson’s translation surpassed a million copies this year.

Concluding her critique of Nolan’s “Odyssey,” Wilson says the release of the movie is “still an event to celebrate.”

“In what we are told is the streaming era, this epic is bringing audiences back to cinemas. In what we are told is a time of declining literacy and the ‘death of the humanities,’ translations of The Odyssey, including mine, are flying off the shelves.”

Nolan spent $250 million making “The Odyssey,” and on opening weekend the film brought in a total of $264.1 million worldwide, according to studio estimates.

Samantha Morton didn’t mean to start humming during that scene in “The Odyssey,” the scene everyone is talking about, when, as the sorceress Circe, she turns Odysseus’ men into pigs, literally molding them into their true savage selves.

It wasn’t in the script. It just happened. And when Morton was done, she looked over to director Christopher Nolan, waiting for him to say something like, “Maybe try it without the humming, Samantha.”

But Nolan didn’t say anything, so Morton did it again and the music that was swirling inside her head, which she remembers now as a symphony of glass harmoniums and theremin, kept coming out as Circe went about her witchy business, altering her gluttonous guests, who are busy slurping and gulping down her stew.

“These are sounds that can make you go mad, apparently,” Morton, 49, tells me, reclining on her bed at the Hotel Chelsea in New York. “So to transform the men, the magic came not just from my hands but from my sounds.”

Samantha Morton as Circe in “The Odyssey,” directed by Christopher Nolan.

(Melinda Sue Gordon / Universal Pictures)

Morton unabashedly believes in magic. How else, she asks, can you explain how a girl who was shuttled between children’s homes and a dozen foster families, only to be living on the streets of Nottingham, England, at the age of 14 with a criminal record, be here talking with me now, sipping green tea at the Chelsea?

“That’s got to be guardian angels and love — and not that I suddenly became good at acting and got a job,” says Morton, a veteran who’s been at it for 35 years, dazzling audiences and stealing scenes for the likes of Steven Spielberg, Jim Sheridan and, now, Nolan. “I’ve always believed that anything is possible and there’s no doubt in here,” and she pats her heart, “because I’ve always felt this immense love for me from another entity.”

When Morton heard that Nolan wanted to meet her for “The Odyssey,” she says she wept. If that sounds dramatic, she makes no apologies. She likens it to being an athlete who qualifies to represent their country at the Olympics. She’d spent decades honing her craft for that phone call. When it came, she flew to Los Angeles in January 2025 during the wildfires, embarking on what would become the best job interview of her life.

I ask her what she remembers about that meeting.

“I think it went really well,” Morton answers, laughing.

Morton told Nolan she hadn’t read “The Odyssey,” which, when you quit school at the age of 12, makes sense. Flying back home to England — she and her husband live in East Sussex with their children, 18-year-old daughter Edie and 12-year-old son Teddy — she recalled that, yes, she knew a bit of “The Odyssey” from having seen it parodied on an episode of “The Simpsons.” (“We’re ‘Simpsons’ mad in our house,” she says. “Like, mad.”)

But Morton doesn’t believe in bogging herself down in research, not since starring in a British TV production of “Jane Eyre” when she was 19 and carried around a heavily highlighted copy of the Charlotte Brontë book, despairing whenever the adaptation deviated from the novel. From that point on, she stuck to the script and her own imagination.

“That’s got to be guardian angels and love — and not that I suddenly became good at acting and got a job,” says Morton of her career. “I’ve always believed that anything is possible.”

(Ebru Yildiz / For The Times)

Thinking about Circe, Morton recalled going to the library with her dad (“We had nothing and were beyond poor, but he always had a library card,” she says) and finding the Howard Pyle fairy-tale book “King Stork.” She remembers being mesmerized by the story’s wicked witch. She recalls other witches from folk tales like Baba Yaga, frightening characters but also, she says, “women possessing an innocence that had been eroded over the years by the harshness of life.”

Morton does a playful verbal evasion when discussing the nuts-and-bolts aspects of shooting the scene where Circe transforms Odysseus’ men, saying that back in the day when behind-the-scenes features were prevalent on DVDs, she routinely declined to participate.

“I didn’t mean to be tricky, but it was like: This is my private moment. This is for me,” she says. “I do like the idea of a little mystery.”

But then a beat later, she laughs it off and dives in, remembering that her husband showed her an Instagram post from Nolan’s set revealing how the movie’s Cyclops was, in fact, a puppet.

“Oh my gosh — I love puppets!” Morton raves, and off she goes, telling me how much she adores Jim Henson and how “The Dark Crystal” is one of her all-time favorite films.

What she will say about her “Odyssey” scene is that there were no digital effects. Everything was real and “in camera” and that she was so in the zone that she barely remembers any of it, only flashes.

“That’s not CGI,” Morton says. “That’s human brilliance and a connectivity of me as a performer, almost dancing and feeling one. And not to say that it was sexual, but I wanted it to be very sensual when she’s with the men and the animals, just like, you know, that she’s almost one with them.”

“What was lovely about that,” Morton begins and then stops, wondering if she should draw back the curtain on the creative process. She goes ahead. “There was a day on set when Chris was like, ‘OK,’ and he put his hand in because I was a little scared. It’s like that scene in ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ where he puts his hand in the thing, and you’re like, ‘Oh no!’ I was a little nervous, but Chris did it first. I think he actually cut his finger.” She giggles. “You know, he’s going to go in first, like getting into the cold water in the sea. I felt protected and supported in that whole process.”

When Odysseus’ men arrive at Circe’s home, hungry, asking to be fed, Circe seems frightened — understandably so. She’s alone, and these soldiers have a history of pillaging and taking what they want. And yet, she’s a powerful sorceress. Is Circe really scared or tricking them to lure them in?

“I played that like she was genuinely frightened because she was caught off-guard,” Morton says. “I also wanted to play somebody that was all ages, so I played her like a 16-year-old girl in that scene. And then in other scenes, I’m playing her as a 90-year-old woman or a 49-year-old woman or a sister or a mother, a grandmother. I just wanted her to be ageless.”

Morton, looking out for Circe, stresses that transforming Odysseus’ men was not purely vengeful.

“It’s not just hate,” she says. “It’s not just harm. It’s not just anger. It’s almost like a Zen master within the goddess role of the teaching as well. ‘Be careful what you wish for,’ gluttony, greed, all of these things.”

There’s a righteous feminist rage underneath the scene as well, a modernization that brings “The Odyssey” fiercely and disturbingly up to date. It’s another reason why people leave are leaving the theater talking about Morton.

“In some weird way, the film lived or died over that character,” says director Nolan of Morton’s Circe, a creation of pure acting and no digital sorcery. “She was the fulcrum.”

(Ebru Yildiz / For The Times)

Nolan thinks “The Odyssey,” in some weird way, “lived or died over that character — she was the fulcrum.” He told The Times that “after one of her takes, the crew gave her a great round of applause.” Emma Thomas, Nolan’s producing partner and wife, later recalled that the last time that had happened was with Heath Ledger on “The Dark Knight.”

Morton makes a point of telling me how much Ledger meant to her, having been cast opposite him (and Odysseus himself, Matt Damon) more than 20 years ago in Terry Gilliam‘s 2005 fantasy adventure “The Brothers Grimm.” Miramax chief Harvey Weinstein overruled Gilliam, dropping Morton from the film because, in his eyes, she wasn’t attractive enough.

“And Heath fought for me with such kindness and compassion,” Morton says. “He’s up there with Philip Seymour Hoffman for me. There’s something otherworldly personal about what they gave, such sincerity and vulnerability and an absolute dedication to craft. They leave a mark on your heart.”

It’s not the first time Morton has invoked the heart in our conversation. She brought her son, Teddy, to New York for the premiere of “The Odyssey” because she wanted to show him the place where her creative spirit was born. Morton first came to New York as a teen to do press for “Emma,” returned a year later to promote “Jane Eyre” and then couldn’t bring herself to leave, “sofa-surfing” at friends’ apartments so she could immerse herself in the city.

“New York stole my heart,” Morton says. It’s where she first got into literature, devouring Charles Bukowski, roaming the aisles at the St. Mark’s Bookshop, checking out movies from Kim’s Video and gobbling hash browns and eggs over easy at the Waverly Diner.

Not long after, Morton scored the role that would land her the first of two Oscar nominations (for now, at least), playing the mute laundress in Woody Allen’s “Sweet and Lowdown.” The production put her up in a Greenwich Village apartment and when it ended, she moved to the East Village.

Only the diner remains but Morton still plans on touring the Village with Teddy, showing off all of mom’s old haunts and, yes, having a cup of soup at the Waverly.

“Life is good right now,” Morton says, smiling. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll indulge in some hash browns.”

Universal Studios has issued a stern warning after an unauthorized copy of its hit film “The Odyssey” was leaked over the weekend.

“We became aware of the unauthorized posting of the film and immediately initiated takedown protocols,” the studio said in a statement. “We take copyright infringement seriously and will pursue all appropriate remedies to protect our content and intellectual property rights.”

The studio was responding to a post on X that shared a high-quality copy of the Christopher Nolan film. The post was viewed more than 2.1 million times before a takedown notice replaced the copy of the film.

The post was shared Saturday on X at 2:25 p.m. Pacific, and the account was suspended within three hours, according to Variety.

“The Odyssey” continues to be a top attraction for filmgoers, drawing huge crowds on its second weekend. Demand for advance tickets caused AMC’s app to crash in June. At the time, users on social media said wait times had reached an hour.

The film in its second weekend pulled in $87 million, acccording to Rentrak, a data analytics company that tracks box office sales.

Tom Holland is officially the first “Hot Ones” guest to really spill his guts during a spicy interview.

During a Thursday appearance on the popular talk show — where guests answer questions while eating chicken wings with increasingly spicy sauces — the actor struggled to keep his composure.

Host Sean Evans cranked up the heat with each burning question to Holland and fellow actor Jon Bernthal, his co-star in not one but two of the biggest cinematic events of the summer, “The Odyssey” and “Spider-Man: Brand New Day.” While Holland began the interview with an eloquent discussion of his two blockbuster films, Evans’ lineup of 10 hot sauces, each hotter than the one before, had the “Uncharted” star on the verge of blacking out.

After Holland bit into his chicken wing slathered with the second sauce — Hot Bergine, a roasted eggplant and tomato sauce with a 3/10 heat level — the actor described his first day on the set of Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey.”

“I wanted to get a bit of a jump on how Chris likes to work and just watch from afar,” he said, noting that he wasn’t filming any scenes that day, but watched his colleagues working from the beach. “I arrived at the beach, and I could not see a single crew member. You just see miles and miles of ships and extras and warriors and horses, and you’re asking yourself, ‘Where is the crew?’”

“So then they asked me to walk down this beach, and every 10 minutes you’d hear ‘Rolling!’ and I’d have to lie down and hide behind these dunes. And I kept asking myself, where are they rolling? I can’t see the crew anywhere. Then eventually I got down to where Matt [Damon] was and his men, and it really felt at that moment like we were a part of something that had never been done before.”

By sauce No. 4 — Chickpotle, a creamy chickpea sauce with smoky chipotle and ghost pepper with a 4/10 heat level — Holland and Bernthal were loosening up and trading barbs. Holland discussed how speaking in an American accent (rather than his native British) is almost like having a disguise, which makes his job as an actor easier.

“But I would love to explore some more British accents because you know, as an island, we have some of the most interesting, unique, and fun accents,” he told Evans. “I think there’s more accents in Britain than any other country.”

Bernthal, visibly uncomfortable from the heat of his own chicken wing, quipped, “Why does it always got to come to competition … I would go out on a on a limb to say there are more accents in America than there are in Britain.”

Holland said he would “drink a shot of that hottest hot sauce” to prove he’s right. After some quick fact checking, “Hot Ones” production confirmed that Holland was correct — among English-speaking countries, anyway.

By hot sauce No. 10 — The Last Dab: Thermageddon, described as a slow-building superhot sauce forged with Pepper X, Apollo, Carolina Reaper and Scorpion peppers, ranked at a heat level of 11/10 — the two actors had completely lost their composure and appeared nearly drunk on hot sauce.

Eyes red, cheeks tear-stained and foreheads pouring sweat, the two squirmed in their seats and Bernthal said he was going to be sick. Still, the “Odyssey” star appeared to have made it through without spewing any body fluids.

Then Holland got up to snap a photo with Bernthal and Evans and barfed on the floor. While the actor may have been embarrassed, Bernthal cheered and Evans crowned him the first guest to lose his lunch.

Last year, Evans told The Times that the interview format, with its squirm-inducing sauces, was a tactic to turn what might otherwise be a typical press tour interview into something raw and real.

“On ‘Hot Ones’ you have those moments of people who are struggling, who are vulnerable, who are in a borderline state of panic. You have emotions that are real, and all of these things are so hard to get to in a traditional interview setting,” he said. “The fact that we can create these moments, and then combine it with this thoughtful career-spanning interview, all of those elements working together, it just gives you a unique look at the celebrity guests … What we’re doing is knocking them off of that pedestal down to a level that everyone can relate to. It’s very human.”

If I see one more person saying that the only way to truly experience Christopher Nolan’s vision of “The Odyssey” is to see it in Imax 70mm, I am going to start turning cinephiles into swine.

I understand that this is a technically true statement. As we all know by now, Nolan went on his own hero’s journey with this film, using an unwieldy and extremely loud Imax camera to shoot it (a feat only he and perhaps a few other directors would be given the finances to do). Like many, I applaud his efforts and those that were made to increase the number of theaters capable of projecting Imax 70mm (and 70mm in general).

There is an undisputed cultural magnificence to reimagining a nearly 3,000-year-old tale in the most artistically immersive format currently available to filmmakers. Unfortunately, the vast majority of filmgoers will never be able to see this master vision; only 25 theaters in the country are capable of showing the film in Imax 70mm — eight in California (including four in the L.A. area); two in Colorado, New York, Texas and Tennessee; and one in Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania and Rhode Island.

So a little more than twice the number of U.S. World Cup venues this year. But then, you could watch the World Cup on TV.

Not that you’ll be able to watch “The Odyssey” on TV anytime soon. As a rigorous defender of the theatrical experience, Nolan requires that his films stay in cinemas and off streamers for much longer than the average movie — “The Odyssey” will likely not be available on NBCUniversal’s Peacock until early 2027.

It is a noble mission; movie theaters need all the help they can get and heading into its second weekend, “The Odyssey” has already more than recouped its $250 million production budget. It will need to make between $625 million to $750 million to break even, which seems more than doable. “The Odyssey” could well become the third-ever R-rated movie to gross $1 billion.

Film snobbery notwithstanding, however, much of that will be accomplished via non-Imax 70mm screenings, which come in a near-Homeric list of types. On top of reacquainting the populace with a story that most of us have not thought much about since that middle-school project or college classics class, “The Odyssey” is offering a lesson in “premium formats.”

On the film’s website, one can view the trailer in Imax 70mm, regular Imax, regular 70mm, Dolby Vision and large format. Given the limitation of personal screens, this only reveals the varying frame dimensions, but it’s pretty fun to flick through them.

What is less fun is trying to figure out on which, and where and when, you can actually see the damn thing. While not on par with battling carnivorous Cyclops or world-weary witches, getting a ticket to “The Odyssey,” even after opening weekend, is a voyage filled with many obstacles.

Including but not limited to the recent crash of the AMC app.

I may or may not have contributed to this crisis, having recently spent well over an hour trying to get a measly two tickets.

Though it went against all my anti-elitist beliefs, I did try to leverage my L.A. privilege and see “The Odyssey” as Christopher Nolan intended — in Imax 70mm. Alas, the only seats available for days, even in standard Imax and 70mm, were in the first row. I was forced to “downgrade” to Dolby Vision at the Burbank 16, where, by the grace of Athena, I found two non-front-row seats, albeit in the middle of a weekday. (Mercifully, this actually counts as work for me.)

I am not equipped to argue saturation levels or whatever else differentiates one format from the other, but the Dolby experience was quite immersive, both in cinematic detail (The storms! The slaughter! The suitors’ slopping wine!) and cardiac-disruptive bass notes.

Certainly, I felt a bit like Odysseus as I crept — drained, disoriented and trailing popcorn crumbs like Ithican sand — out into the sun. It was an experience like no other (seriously, to survive Imax 70mm, I might have to go into training).

So I am a bit bewildered as pundits declare that the success of “The Odyssey” reflects some larger theme about what film audiences want. Beyond, you know, a very powerful movie.

This is one of the most singular films made in recent years. So singular that it all but defies any kind of tea-leaf-reading or, heaven forbid, attempts at replication. I don’t see a future in Homeric spinoffs (unless someone wants to do a limited series on Circe, starring Samantha Morton), and while it is vital to celebrate the craft of Imax 70mm filmmaking and projection, the theatrical experience cannot afford to put all, or even many, of its eggs into that basket.

An increased reliance on “premium formats” may seem like an obvious weapon in the increasingly one-sided war between at-home and theatrical viewing, but it is not the answer. Or at least not the only answer. (For one thing, there aren’t enough Imax 70mm cameras or projectors to go around.)

Like sports fans, many cinephiles are happy to spend hours, and dollars, to have the ultimate experience — tales of folks driving across state lines and/or paying thousands to see “The Odyssey” in Imax 70mm echoed the recent stories of international visitors saving up for a year to see their team play in the World Cup.

Though marvelously affirming for film fans, this is not a sustainable business plan. Movies are supposed to be for everyone. Not just those with a neighborhood Imax 70mm theater or the ability to pay $30 for a regular Imax seat. Going to the movies should not require hours of research to choose a theater, negotiating with a scalper or finding AI-aided plots to game the system. And there shouldn’t be such an obvious and geographically rigged hierarchy.

Before you know it, Live Nation will be involved and then where will we be?

Christopher Nolan’s non-CGI visions of the Trojan Horse, the Cyclops, the sacking of Troy, the transformation of men into pigs do not require an “ultimate” aspect ratio to be remarkable.

(Melinda Sue Gordon / Universal Pictures)

“The Odyssey” is a legitimate phenomenon and that’s terrific; more power to Nolan and the theaters that benefit. As a solution to flagging box office, well, if Hollywood does not want to go the way of — as Timothée Chalamet famously said — ballet and opera, it cannot afford to become dependent on premium experiences that are accessible only to a small percentage of the audience.

Of course it’s great that “The Odyssey” was shot, and is being shown, in Imax 70mm and regular 70mm, especially in a year when stories that originated on YouTube are also burning up the big screen. Art should never be an equation of replacement. Supporting all manner of work is always the best way of preserving and celebrating the splendid diversity of filmmaking.

No matter how unparalleled the form, it still must follow function. “The Odyssey,” in whatever format it is seen, is an epic adventure with emotional undertones beyond the original story and an existential message that resonates far more than its smattering of modern language. Nolan’s non-CGI visions of the Trojan Horse, the Cyclops, the sacking of Troy, the transformation of men into pigs do not require an “ultimate” aspect ratio to be remarkable.

All the various formats have their proponents and the conversations about them have been entertaining and informative, but no matter the film or screen size, it’s a very good movie.

And that’s the only template Hollywood needs to follow.

The incoming tide has made a labyrinth of the beach. As silvery rivulets spread across Culbin Sands to meet the mudflats, my walk becomes increasingly circuitous: weaving inland towards the pine forest, backtracking closer to the waves, skirting tidal pools and scaling dunes constantly resculpted by the North Sea breeze.

In this shapeshifting stretch of north-east Scotland’s Moray coast, there’s not another soul in sight, nothing to anchor me to the modern day. It’s easy, then, to imagine a longship bringing weary warriors ashore, or a band of man-eating giants marauding from the woodland. Which is exactly what happens here – on screen – in Christopher Nolan’s adaptation of The Odyssey.

At first glance, Scotland is not an obvious backdrop for a nearly 3,000-year-old Greek epic. While the poem describes the Ithacan king Odysseus and his men being cast adrift on mysterious, far-flung shores, its imagined geography is the Mediterranean (unsurprisingly, Sicily, Morocco and the Peloponnese are the movie’s other locations). Few people who live in Moray, including me, anticipated Hollywood actors Matt Damon, Zendaya and Tom Holland descending on our local beaches and sleepy fishing villages last summer. The Moray coast isn’t even well known domestically, overshadowed by the likes of the Isle of Skye and the North Coast 500 driving route in the Highlands.

The more I think about it, though, the more Nolan’s decision makes sense. Unfurling due east of Inverness in a series of vast sand dunes, shingle bars, pine-edged marshes and sandstone skerries, this coastline is both cinematic and unusually varied. The absence of tourist crowds and coastal development must be a boon to film-makers.

Yet the resonances between the world of The Odyssey and these Scottish seafaring communities run deeper than scenery. Legends cling like barnacles to Moray’s shores. Superstitions intermingle with real histories of sieges and tragedies. Take the “Atlantis of the North” at Culbin Sands, the RSPB nature reserve and forest where Matt Damon’s Odysseus clashes with the giant-like Laestrygonians. A thriving agricultural estate and village stood here until 1694, when a freak sandstorm buried the settlement in a single night. Locals blamed either a witch’s curse or their reckless laird’s bargain with the devil.

“The lore you hear along this coast is worthy of a Homeric epic,” says Moray-based author and classicist VJ Randle, whose novel The Athenian Murders is inspired by Greek mythology. She leads me along a section of the 50-mile Moray Coast Trail. Through an early morning Stygian sea-mist, we set off from the fishing village of Hopeman, the sandy footpath weaving between tangles of gorse and heather, before we clamber over the rock pools of Clashach Cove to a shadowy opening between the golden sandstone cliffs.

“This cave always reminds me of Calypso’s home,” Randle says. “Although locally, it’s said that a scarier sort of sea-spirit lives here.” She’s talking about the Grin Iron Wife – a witch with pale-green skin, rusted-red teeth and hair of seaweed who drags children and the elderly down to her underwater lair.

Such tales were once shared by seanchaidhean – oral historians who preserved heroic battles, local legends and clan genealogy. They were to Scottish Gaelic culture what the wandering bards were to ancient Greece.

It’s a fading tradition that local storytellers like Michelle van den Hout of Otherworldly Tales are helping to revive. Her walking tours introduce figures with striking parallels to classical mythology: the Scottish creator goddess and giantess Cailleach, a titan if ever there was one, islands and mountains formed from the rocks that fell from her creel basket; or the siren-like Ceasg, luring sailors who listened to her song to a watery grave.

Such tales were never simply about frightening people, van den Hout explains: “For isolated coastal communities, storytelling was a way to pass down lessons about survival, respecting nature and how to treat strangers. Rather than warning a child with, ‘Careful, that place has a riptide,’ it was more effective to say that a witch lives there.”

Threats coming from the North Sea could sometimes be made of flesh and blood, of course. In the town of Burghead, I stand on the grassy promontory overlooking granite cottages huddled around a working harbour. This is where The Odyssey’s film crew docked a 35-metre (115ft) longship last year alongside the usual fishing vessels. My attention turns to the raised earthworks beneath my feet: the remains of one of the largest Pictish forts ever built, burnt down in the 10th century, most likely during a Viking raid.

Along the neighbouring beach of Roseisle, dozens of barnacle-covered concrete blocks and pillboxes are wedged in the sand, half buried, like the ruins of a forgotten civilisation – and resembling the Trojan horse in the movie. But these relics are not ancient; they’re part of a vast defensive frontier from the second world war, when Moray became a secret training ground for the D-day landings. This legacy continues beneath the waves, where several sunken tanks from the wartime exercises can be explored on scuba diving excursions.

Heading further east, the cliffs steepen and craggy outcrops have long stirred up stories of metamorphosis. The soaring, 50ft sea-arch of Bow Fiddle Rock, for instance, is a giant that’s fallen beneath the waves, only the edge of his fiddle still visible, and the cries of nesting seabirds are its mournful music.

A few miles further on, the ruins of Findlater Castle cling to a narrow promontory. Befitting its turbulent past, from Viking occupation to being besieged by troops loyal to Mary, Queen of Scots, this is where Nolan has the sorceress Circe bewitch Odysseus’ men into swine.

There’s magic on my visit, too, only it erupts from the ocean below. The setting sun is a bronze shield, the sea uncharacteristically calm, when a dozen dorsal fins pierce the surface. Bottlenose dolphins. They’re a regular sight along these shores, with the Moray Firth home to Europe’s most northerly resident pod. Minke whales, humpbacks and orcas sometimes pass through, too, making this one of the UK’s best cetacean-spotting locations.

A motor launch scuds across the bay, heading for shore apace as dusk falls. My thoughts turn to homecomings. That, after all, is the essence of The Odyssey, more than monsters or battles. The hero’s yearning to return. His wife Penelope anxiously waiting. Countless women through the centuries have surely done the same from this very clifftop, staring out to sea for a sign of a familiar sail.

But a visit to Buckie and District Fishing Heritage Centre the following day reveals that the Moray coast’s fishwives were no idle, passive Penelopes. While the menfolk were at sea, they baited thousands of hooks by hand, gutted and packed herring, and trudged 13 miles inland to sell their catch.

One faded, sepia photograph in the display is unforgettable: it shows the female fishers, barefoot and skirts hitched, carrying their husbands on their backs through the surf, ensuring the men’s boots stayed dry before they boarded their boats. These are, perhaps, the true heroes of these Scottish shores: not a cunning soldier-king, as Homer would have it, but the stalwart, unsung “fisher lassies”, sharing a sea-swell of stories and ballads as they worked.

Where to stay
The Odyssey’s cast and crew made their base at The Seafield Arms in Cullen (doubles from £150). “The production team turned our meeting rooms into a working base for editing the film,” says owner Charles Milne, “while our grand ballroom became a private cinema where Christopher Nolan and the crew watched the day’s footage each evening.” Its refurbished self-catering accommodation Bow Cottage, where Matt Damon stayed, has been decked out with ancient Greek-inspired touches and movie memorabilia for visiting fans (sleeps seven from £300 a night, minimum three-night stay.) While you’re in Cullen, browse the shelves at Beinn Books for collections of Scottish folklore or perhaps a translation of Homer’s original.

How to get there
National rail services run to Inverness and Aberdeen, with onward train and bus connections to larger coastal towns. Hiring a car is the easiest way to reach its more remote beaches, castles and walking trails.

The ongoing saga of the Cinerama Dome, among the most iconic movie theaters in Los Angeles, took another twist Tuesday. Reports surfaced that Sony and Alamo Drafthouse, the theater chain owned by the company, have been in talks to take over operation of the venue.

The theater and the adjacent 14-screen ArcLight Hollywood multiplex have been closed since March 2020. In April 2021 it was announced that the venue would not be reopening and it has sat dormant ever since, becoming the focus of intense public interest.

The news of Sony and Alamo’s interest in the property was first reported by Deadline. Representatives for Sony did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

A city hearing in May regarding alcohol sales at the site provided a rare opportunity for public comment on the property.

“I know that this has been hard and it has seemed like the citizens versus the ownership — that’s not what it is,” local preservation advocate Kim Cooper said. “People want to come together and help and bring this place back.”

The Dome has long been owned by the family of William R. Forman — the founder of Pacific Theatres — who opened the Dome in 1963. In an interview with The Times following the May meeting, Elizabeth Peterson-Gower, a land use consultant representing the venue’s owners, said the owners hoped to have a reopening time frame “in the near future.”

Sony purchased the Austin, Texas-based Alamo Drafthouse in 2024, with venues in major cities all across the U.S., including L.A. Though the Drafthouse chain was rooted in a fan-friendly ethos and a notoriously strict no-phones policy in its theaters, the company has recently come under fire for switching up the ordering system for its in-seat food service, forcing patrons to pull out their phones during a movie.

The Cinerama Dome news comes on the heels of a strong summer of moviegoing, as audiences have been flocking to theaters to see movies such as “The Odyssey,” “Toy Story 5,” “Backrooms” and “Obsession.” There has been a newfound attention on theatrical presentation and film formats, including the limited number of venues capable of projecting Imax 70mm or 70mm film, around the country.

Theatergoing in L.A. has been undergoing a renaissance of its own. The Alex Theatre in Glendale is showing a first-run movie with “The Odyssey” for the first time since 1991, while the American Cinematheque has relaunched the Village Theatre in Westwood under the new name the Directors Village to acknowledge the consortium of filmmakers who took over ownership.

It took an ancient Greek epic to ignite a fire at the box office last weekend, as Christopher Nolan’s adaptation of “The Odyssey” became one of the biggest movie events of the year.

The film, led by Matt Damon as Odysseus, hauled in $123.5 million in the U.S. and Canada on its way to a global total of nearly $264 million — the biggest-ever global opening for one of Nolan’s films.

In many ways, “The Odyssey” is a throwback to old-school Hollywood filmmaking, with Nolan’s use of practical effects and numerous on-location shoots. It’s also a sign that audiences will still pack theaters for the right kind of movie.

The Universal Pictures film also outperformed studio expectations of a $117-million domestic premiere and set a record for the highest-grossing opening weekend for a live-action or R-rated film this year.

“Audiences always want to be thoroughly immersed in the theatrical experience and engulfed by the story and the production, and Christopher Nolan’s ‘The Odyssey’ is a perfect example of that,” Jim Orr, Universal’s president of domestic distribution, said Sunday. “When you have a very substantial opening, and you have those kinds of audience scores, it only points to what should be a remarkable run throughout the summer and into the fall.”

That’s good news for the summer box office, which lately has seen a bit of ebb and flow.

“The Odyssey” now ranks as the third-largest domestic opening of the year, trailing only kid-friendly films such as Walt Disney Co. and Pixar’s “Toy Story 5” and Universal, Illumination and Nintendo’s “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie.” Though family-friendly films have become power players for theaters, the two most recent flicks — Disney’s live-action “Moana” and Universal and Illumination’s “Minions & Monsters” saw softer openings.

After the big weekend for “The Odyssey,” the summer box office is up 7.3% compared with the lackluster 2025 season, according to entertainment data firm Rentrak. More encouraging, the year-to-date domestic box office is now 10.4% higher than for the same period last year.

That’s been helped not only by big blockbusters such as “The Odyssey,” which had a production budget of $200 million to $250 million, but also by the success of smaller-budget films such as A24’s “Backrooms” and Focus Features’ “Obsession.”

The common denominator is the draw of directors who have cultivated strong fan bases. “Obsession” director Curry Barker, 26, and 21-year-old Kane Parsons, who helmed “Backrooms,” have been building their reputation on YouTube among Gen Z audiences, and that loyalty is starting to count for something at the box office.

Nolan, of course, is one of the masters of building a faithful following over more than two decades. Fans started grabbing Imax 70 millimeter tickets for “The Odyssey” when they first went on sale a year ago, and the film ended up driving record presales for the Canadian entertainment tech company, which operates out of Playa Vista.

The film has notched a 95% on aggregator Rotten Tomatoes and an A CinemaScore rating.

“His films have tapped into the cultural zeitgeist,” said Shawn Robbins, director of movie analytics at Fandango and founder of the website Box Office Theory. “That’s what keeps bringing people back. They know they’re going to get a different experience; there’s always going to be a watercooler conversation around his movies, and they’re part of the cultural fabric.”

For “The Odyssey,” part of that conversation was Nolan’s old-school movie magic, including the puppetry, animatronics and robotics he used in scenes with the Cyclops, as well as the real Viking ship that the actors learned to sail.

The film also has driven interest in 70mm screenings from film buffs and casual moviegoers.

Ahead of the premiere of “The Odyssey,” Allen Michaan, owner of Oakland’s Grand Lake Theater, knew the weekend would be very busy for his four-screen movie palace. He is showing the film both in standard digital format and on 70mm film.

Michaan has made 70mm showings a priority since 1982, when the projector was installed for the release of Steven Spielberg’s “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.” He said the theater played that movie for 45 weeks that year. Due to the demand at the time, he installed two more 70mm projectors, making three of his four screens capable of the old-fashioned format.

Demand for the 70mm showings of “The Odyssey” has significantly outperformed their digital screenings, he said.

“We’re thrilled to get any 70mm print because it’s a gift from the filmmaker and the studio,” Michaan said.

Enhanced format screenings for “The Odyssey” made up 53% of the domestic weekend box office, with Imax film and digital revenue accounting for nearly 24%.

Imax 70mm accounted for about 4% of that total, with Imax digital making up the rest. Non-Imax 70mm film screening revenue totaled 3%, while 35mm showings made up 0.3%.

The nearly three-hour epic also marked the first feature film shot entirely on Imax cameras, a feat that required extensive collaboration between Nolan and Imax.

Nolan first told Imax Corp. Chief Executive Rich Gelfond in early 2024 that he was considering making an entire film with Imax cameras and laid out what he’d need for that to happen, including a quieter and lighter camera, a way to make film reloads easier and getting enough trained projectionists.

“It took a fair amount of time and investment” to figure out those challenges, Gelfond said. But by August 2024, the Imax team put together a series of tests to show cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema. Two months later, Nolan saw the tests and was impressed.

“As filmmakers and studios integrate Imax, we become an increasingly important part of the ecosystem,” Gelfond said. “When a film is released in Imax or shot in Imax, I think it’s a signal to audiences that it’s somewhat special, and the filmmaker is really leaning in in a unique way.”

Times staff writer Cerys Davies contributed to this report.

Stuff We Wrote

Film shoots

Number of the week

Streaming giant Netflix narrowed its 2026 revenue forecast to $51 billion to $51.4 billion from its previous, larger range of $50.7 billion to $51.7 billion in its last Thursday’s second-quarter earnings report, renewing concerns among investors and equity analysts about the Los Gatos-based company’s future growth.

On the Friday morning after the earnings call, Netflix stock slid 13% to $65.08 a share, marking a new 52-week low. Shares eventually closed that day at $68.95.

As my colleague Wendy Lee has reported, investors are growing nervous that in recent months, Netflix’s share of TV viewing time in the U.S. has been decreasing, while YouTube’s share has increased, according to Nielsen data. Investors are concerned that if consumers are watching Netflix less, they’ll cancel their subscriptions, and that will put pressure on the company’s ability to raise prices in the U.S.

Netflix has said its engagement rates are healthy.

What I’m watching

I love a good teen mystery show, especially when it has a bit of a “Veronica Mars” vibe, so I binged Paramount+’s “School Spirits” last weekend.

Where Veronica Mars was solving realistic crimes around her local beach city, “School Spirits” tries to dig into why so many teens have died at (and haunt) a Wisconsin high school. At times, they’re hitting at a lot of different themes and storylines, but I loved the colorful ensemble of ghost characters from different decades, and Jennifer Tilly makes for an incredible villain.

It was a very warm homecoming at the box office this weekend for Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey,” as the star-studded epic grossed $124.5 million in the U.S. and Canada, a welcome and massive jolt for theaters after a series of slower weeks.

The Universal Pictures film’s haul outperformed studio expectations of a $117 million domestic opening and set a record for the highest-grossing opening weekend for a live-action or R-rated film so far this year.

“The Odyssey” now ranks as the third-highest domestic debut of 2026, trailing only Disney and Pixar’s “Toy Story 5” ($159.7 million) and Universal, Illumination and Nintendo’s “The Super Mario Galaxy Movie” ($131.7 million).

The film, which stars Matt Damon as Odysseus, brought in a total of $264.1 million worldwide, according to studio estimates. That marks the biggest global opening ever for a Nolan film.

“The Odyssey” was produced by Nolan and his wife and producing partner Emma Thomas for their company, Syncopy, and had a production budget of about $200 million to $250 million.

“It delivers on every sort of promise,” said Jim Orr, Universal’s president of domestic distribution. “It is totally immersive. It is great emotional storytelling. It is something that truly has to be experienced on the big screen.”

The nearly three-hour epic is the first feature to be shot entirely on Imax cameras, a feat that required extensive cooperation between Nolan and the Canadian entertainment tech company, which operates out of Playa Vista.

Nolan first told Imax Chief Executive Rich Gelfond in early 2024 that he was considering making an entire film with Imax cameras and laid out what he’d need for that to happen, including a quieter and lighter camera, a way to make film reloads easier and getting enough trained projectionists.

“It took a fair amount of time and investment” to figure out those challenges, Gelfond said. But by August 2024, the Imax team put together a series of tests to show cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema. Two months later, Nolan saw the tests and was impressed.

“As filmmakers and studios integrate Imax, we become an increasingly important part of the ecosystem,” Gelfond said. “When a film is released in Imax or shot in Imax, I think it’s a signal to audiences that it’s somewhat special, and the filmmaker is really leaning in in a unique way.”

Anticipation for the film has been building for at least a year, when the first Imax 70mm tickets went on sale. Pre-sales for “The Odyssey” shattered the previous Imax record by nearly double, the company said.

Enhanced formats made up 53% of the domestic weekend’s total, with both film and digital Imax revenue comprising 23.8%. Imax 70mm comprised about 4% of that total, with Imax digital making up the rest. Non-Imax 70mm film screening revenue totaled 3%, while 35mm showings made up 0.3%.

Adding to the film’s mystique is Nolan’s reliance on old-school Hollywood practical effects, such as his use of puppetry, animatronics and robotics in scenes with the Cyclops, as well as a real Viking boat that the actors learned to sail.

The massive reception for the film is a relief for theater owners, who weathered their own rough waters in the last few weeks, as Walt Disney Co.’s live-action “Moana” underperformed in its opening at the box office and Universal and Illumination’s “Minions & Monsters” had a softer debut.

“Moana” came in second at the box office this weekend with a domestic haul of $19 million. “Minions & Monsters” ($14.8 million), “Toy Story 5” ($14.8 million) and Warner Bros. Pictures’ “Evil Dead Burn” ($5 million) rounded out the top five, according to data from Rentrak.

One year ago, when tickets first went on sale for “The Odyssey” in Imax 70mm, nearly every screening sold out instantly.

The unprecedented ticket mayhem built hype — not just for the film, but for the format. By the time a second round of tickets were made available last month, buyers swarmed with such frenzy that they crashed the AMC Theatres app.

In Los Angeles, home base for cinephiles of every stripe, scoring one of these coveted opening weekend tickets was particularly challenging. Much of the excitement revolved around the fact that “The Odyssey” was the first feature shot entirely on Imax 70mm film, a technical achievement that involved the invention of a new camera.

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Want to see The Odyssey in 70mm but couldn’t get tickets? Glendale’s historic The Alex Theatre has you covered.

For 28-year-old Van Nuys resident Chase Stanley, who tried and failed to secure a ticket, that milestone was top of mind.

“Ultimately, I’m just jealous that I’m not included,” he said. “Since it’s the first movie to capture the whole thing in 70mm Imax, it’s my due diligence to see it like that.”

Despite the enthusiasm from moviegoers, film projection has been considered a dying art since most movie theaters worldwide switched to digital projection in the early 2010s.

More than a marketing tactic, the scarcity of tickets for Imax 70mm screenings underscored both the dearth of theaters capable of projecting films in the premium large format — only 41 — and projectionists with the requisite skills.

A number of renowned directors, including “The Odyssey’s” Christopher Nolan, prefer to shoot on film and strongly encourage analog viewing. But because few theaters own the necessary equipment or employ full-time projectionists, coordinating a release as massive as “The Odyssey” is its own arduous journey.

Jimmy Gonzales is Cepheus, left, Matt Damon is Odysseus and Himesh Patel is Eurylochus in “The Odyssey.”

(Melinda Sue Gordon / Universal Pictures)

Venues new and old

There are 25 theaters in the United States showing “The Odyssey” in Imax 70mm, eight of which are located in California. One of L.A.’s favorites is the Universal Cinema AMC at CityWalk Hollywood, where veteran Imax projectionist Taylor Umphenour has worked for the last three years.

On his Instagram page, Umphenour shares “projectionist POV” photos and videos with more than 22,000 followers, giving them a unique glimpse into the projection booth for movies like “Sinners,” “One Battle After Another” and “Project Hail Mary.” His company, Film Leader Co., supervises film restorations and runs technical operations for a smattering of cinema houses across the country.

In addition to his work at CityWalk, Umphenour has been busy for weeks overhauling the projection setup at the historic Alex Theatre in Glendale.

Releases such as “The Odyssey” have renewed interest in film projectionists and specialty theaters, including the historic Alex Theatre.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

The 100-year-old venue opened in 1925 as a vaudeville and silent movie house where Walt Disney previewed his animated shorts, but it changed identities many times over the course of its history. Now, Umphenour and his team are working with Miles Williams, the theater’s artistic director, to transform it into a “premier cinema house” in time for “The Odyssey’s” release. It marks the first time the theater has been used for a first-run film release since “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” in 1991.

“What better opportunity to relaunch this venue than to open with Christopher Nolan’s ‘The Odyssey’? That’s why this project is on such a tight turn,” Umphenour said.

His team built an entirely new, massive booth in just three weeks to house sound equipment and projectors capable of running both 35mm and 70mm film. To secure the Alex a last-minute 70mm print of “The Odyssey” — which costs tens of thousands of dollars to manufacture, ship and distribute and runs about four miles long — Umphenour relied on his relationship with distribution executives at Universal.

The Alex will screen the movie in 70mm, which uses the same film stock as Imax 70mm but runs vertically instead of horizontally, making each physical frame roughly three times smaller than its Imax counterpart. Audiences seeking the larger-than-life Imax experience will have to look elsewhere — like CityWalk — but Umphenour believes that analog screenings will still draw a crowd.

“What’s special about these — about running on film, about running 70mm, about handling premium large formats — is that it does remind people how much they love going to the movies,” he said.

“What it’s all about is expanding that sense of scope and horizon, the analog color, that sense of immersion.”

Not a job for ‘popcorn projectionists’

In advance of “The Odyssey’s” release, Imax contracted 130 experienced projectionists and required each to attend an intensive, weeklong training program.

“I’ve said for years that the projectionist is the last performer in a long chain of people that started with an idea,” Umphenour said. “They are the final person to deliver the vision of the filmmakers to the audience, and therefore, one of the most crucial.” Far from simply pressing a button, film projectionists must actively guide a screening, threading and splicing reels and closely monitoring for mechanical issues.

But thanks in large part to the dwindling number of theaters projecting analog film since 2013, finding capable, actively working projectionists for releases like “The Odyssey” can be a struggle.

Sean McKinnon, director of specialty presentations and AV integration at Boston Light and Sound, is in charge of hiring these projectionists for about 60 venues across the country screening “The Odyssey” in 70mm. He did the same for “Oppenheimer” in 2023, which had the longest theatrical window of the year.

“It was pretty challenging finding people for ‘Oppenheimer,’ especially because the film was so amazing, it was in theaters for so long,” he said of the 122-day release. Staffing projectionists for “The Odyssey” has been “definitely easier,” he said, as the “word has gotten out.”

The talent pool McKinnon pulls from includes theater managers, retired projectionists, trainees from specialized college programs and even workers in other professions who take PTO for the occasion.

“We get people from really all walks of life,” he said. “It’s a special event and people want to be a part of it.”

Taylor Umphenour checks the projector’s focus at the historic Alex Theatre in Glendale.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Outside of big cities, the lack of local projectionists also means McKinnon’s company has to fly people to Morrow, Ga., or Valley View, Ohio, for instance, to run the booth for the duration of a film’s run.

Leah Saint Marie, a filmmaker and former projectionist at the Vista Theatre in Los Feliz, attributed the staffing struggle to the experience and knowledge divide between hobbyists and experts.

“Training is pretty easy if you want to be what they call a ‘popcorn projectionist,’” she said. They “can thread the movie and push start, but if there are any mechanical issues, they can’t fix it.”

“I don’t think anybody who’s going to run a 70mm Imax are popcorn projectionists, because it’s very technical,” she added. Each Imax film print of “The Odyssey” is 11 miles long and weighs roughly 600 pounds.

The most recent data from the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics estimated that in 2023, there were 2,610 motion picture projectionists employed in the U.S. — an increase from 1,900 in 2022. In 2012, the BLS estimated roughly 8,000 projectionists and predicted the number would decline by 26.5% in the next 10 years — but it ultimately decreased by 76%.

“If you want to maintain expertise in the field, what you want are enough [movie] theaters out there running film that somebody can try their hand at it and get better,” Umphenour said.

Why film matters

Could the overwhelming audience demand for Imax 70mm screenings translate into a resurgence of fully equipped theaters? According to Imax Chief Executive Richard Gelfond, it’s more complicated than that.

“The problem is they haven’t made new Imax film projectors in about 50 years,” Gelfond told Variety on Wednesday. “We build new projectors every day, but film projectors, using this film, it’s not practical. So we’ve got to find them and retrofit them and rebuild them, which is what we did for ‘Odyssey.’ But can all 2,000 of our theaters be film projectors? No. There’s just not that many around.”

That said, Cinemark reportedly installed Imax 70mm projectors at three of its theaters ahead of “The Odyssey’s” release, and there are 11 more theaters projecting “The Odyssey” in Imax 70mm than there were for “Oppenheimer.”

Cinema engineer Justin Dennis is working with projectionist and production manager Taylor Umphenour to build a new projection booth capable of running both 35mm and 70mm film at the Alex Theatre.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Saint Marie recalled working as a projectionist in Pennsylvania during the period when most theaters transitioned from film to digital. While training at a new theater, she was surprised to find an old film projector still stored in the booth, and even more surprised to learn it was for Nolan’s sake.

“When he releases a [movie] on film, we have to have the projector. A lot of places around the United States kept their projectors specifically for Nolan,” she said.

Nolan isn’t the only director with an affinity for large format film and analog media. Quentin Tarantino, Paul Thomas Anderson and Ryan Coogler (whose 2025 hit “Sinners” made quite a splash in Imax 70mm) are others associated with what Umphenour dubbed “the 70mm renaissance.”

According to Saint Marie, theaters worldwide transitioned from film to digital projection mainly because the cost of shipping a Digital Cinema Package is much cheaper than shipping a film release print. But the community of skilled laborers and enthusiastic audiences who champion analog projection say it’s worth it.

“I think there’s something to be said about what film gives you as an artistic community, versus what digital gives you is just consuming as a capitalistic society,” Saint Marie said. To McKinnon, it comes down to the “tradition of humans telling a story by flickering light” harking back to prehistoric times.

For Umphenour, the story of “The Odyssey’s” release and all of the 70mm fanfare is one of preservationists triumphing over countless obstacles.

“There are 70mm theaters running this film throughout the world that, frankly, have been kept alive through the deep devotion of people who care about this format,” Umphenour said. “They really do deserve to be celebrated because, like so many things in life, if you don’t have people that care about it, you don’t end up with a thing.”

“The results of all this work are not images projected on screen,” he continued. “It’s a community brought together to hear a story well told, which allows them to create a life memory they get to carry forward for years and years.”

Film projection takes center stage at the Alex Theatre.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

THE ODYSSEY

(15) 173mins

★★★★★

NO need for theme parks this summer, this is a film that will leave you feeling as though you have ­ridden the highest rollercoaster.

Sir Christopher Nolan’s epic is an all-action, mythical nightmare to behold.

It’s a monumental piece of work, which rarely even feels like a film — more a spectacle to be watched in awe and amazement.

The Ancient Greek poem of the same title, written thousands of years ago, has been retold countless times over the centuries. But never to this scale.

The story is of Odysseus (Matt Damon) and his quest to return to his homeland.

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He is the King of Ithaca and the mastermind behind the Trojan Horse trick that ended the war.

His long journey back to his kingdom is to reunite with his wife, Penelope (Anne Hathaway), and son, Telemachus (Tom Holland).

They have been waiting for his return for 20 years, and Penelope has many more than 100 suitors ready to take up residency in the royal palace.

They spend their evenings eating the food and drinking the wine of their hostess, while plotting what they will do when she marries them.

One is Antinous (Robert Pattinson), a snarly, devious man who can barely hide his contempt for the family but longs for their power.

Stories run alongside this one, showing Odysseus lost on the island of Ogygia, eating lotus flowers with only the nymph Calypso (Charlize Theron) for company.

She tries to get his memories from him, and he retells the journey he took to get washed up there.

It includes battles, terrifying gods, curses, hauntings, a witch (Samantha Morton) who loves to feed her prey and Zendaya as Athena.

Each tale feels like a film in itself and alongside adrenalin-spiking action, there is a lot of heart.

The basis of the story is love, protection and the attempt to right wrongs.

Damon is spectacular in a role that must have pushed him to his limits physically. While being part of huge battle sequences, he is able to show a range of emotions on his face.

The standout performance has to be Pattinson, who as the hateful Antinous, ­manages to curl his lip to perfection.

Don’t let the nearly three-hour run time put you off.

Like any great ride, the moment it is over, you want it to start all over again.

A CLOSE SHAVE

(U) 30mins

★★★★★

IT’S been more than three decades since Nick Park made us all fall for a cheese-loving bachelor and his silent inventor dog.

And to mark the 50th anniversary of Aardman, the world-famous Bristol-based stop-motion and clay animation studios behind Wallace and Gromit, the films have been given national cinema release for a whole new generation to enjoy.

In this tale, from 1995, Wallace (Peter Sallis) and Gromit are running a high-tech window-cleaning service, which introduces them to wool shop owner Wendolene Ramsbottom (Anne Reid) and her evil-genius dog, Preston.

Thanks to his new canine enemy, Gromit is jailed for crimes he didn’t commit. With the help of his clumsy buddy – who is infatuated with Wendolene – he works to clear his name. Film fans will love the parody of prison movies, and there’s an impressive, climactic cheese scene.

Having won the Oscar for Best Animated Short Film and introducing the character of Shaun the Sheep – who went on to have his own TV spin-off series – this really is a delight to watch again. Brilliantly funny, with enough jeopardy and action to keep you hooked.

HEARTSTOPPER FOREVER

(15) 114mins

★★☆☆☆

AFTER three series of the incredibly successful coming-of-age Netflix drama, the story of the much-loved schoolboy couple, Nick and Charlie, is coming to an end.

This feature-film finale shows Nick (Kit Connor) and Charlie (Joe Locke) are still very much in love.

In fact, they’re obsessively infatuated. At every party they stare at each other across the dance floor. They take selfies every few minutes and all their friends fawn over how they’re the best couple ever.

But Charlie is off to university soon and newly crowned head boy Nick has another year at school. So this throws their relationship into a very mediocre level of disarray.

They go back and forth over what they’re going to do, with high levels of self-inflicted angst and many moments that feel excruciatingly cringey.

Meanwhile, their tight-knit friendship group seem to chat exclusively about their own complicated sexualities.

Written by Alice Oseman and produced by Brett Thomas, the fondness for this couple feels like it can’t forgive the incredibly lame storyline that offers little to no jeopardy.

One for the superfans.

On Netflix.

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.

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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)

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.

Lost luggage? Tarmac delays? Rental-car blues? No whining about measly travel headaches with the mother of all bad-trip sagas looming on the big screen.

“The Odyssey,” Christopher Nolan’s epic take on the Trojan War’s fallout, debuts July 17. Spoiler alert, if you somehow avoided Homer in community college: Nobody, save biblical Job, has had more misery hurled at them.

Outflanked by cruel and fickle gods at every turn, legendary Greek hero Odysseus outsmarted a one-eyed giant, suffered through the bewitching Sirens’ song and braved the Underworld’s dead denizens. He battled oversize cannibals, outmaneuvered a witch and lost scores of men at every turn. Then made it back to Ithaca after 10 years only to find his home overrun by suitors wooing his wife.

It’s a tale packed with bad decisions, failure, heartbreak and death. Perfect story fodder, given how much we love bad-trip stories. We consume lists of the worst airports and wonder at accounts of illness-plagued cruises. We scroll through videos starring unruly passengers or mangled bags, and read about the last resting place for lost luggage.

Hollywood has created a whole franchise around road trips gone wrong. Think of “The Hangover” or “Sideways” or “Little Miss Sunshine.” Screenwriter-director John Hughes perfected the big-screen comedic treatment of travel gone south with classics such as “Home Alone,” “National Lampoon’s Vacation” and “Planes, Trains and Automobiles.”

Let’s not even talk about the “three-hour tour” that left Gilligan and friends stranded on a deserted island for 98 episodes, or how Jack Dawson’s voyage ended aboard 1997’s “Titanic.”

A significant body of evidence even indicates that travel makes us sick. Trip-related problems are so common, in fact, that consumer advocate Christopher Elliott has stitched an entire career out of resolving them — from timeshare scams to horrible airline customer service and beyond.

Still, we keep buying tickets and packing our bags to sail into the great unknown, across Homer’s wine-dark sea. Why? Elliott attributes it to what he terms “traveler’s amnesia.”

“It amazes me that travelers are not up in arms about the way they get treated,” he said. “They take a trip, have a terrible experience, and forget about everything that went wrong and only remember what went right.”

He suggests that avoiding a bad trip starts with choosing companies noted for strong customer service. He cited some name-brand examples: Marriott for hotels, Alaska Airlines, and Enterprise Rent-A-Car. He avoids cruises as much as possible.

Which is funny, because when I think about cruising, I don’t revisit the miserable 36 hours that norovirus confined us in our cabin. I instead recall coasting past a flotilla of icebergs in Alaska’s Glacier Bay.

When I think about Mexico, I don’t wallow in memories involving Montezuma and his gastrointestinal revenge. But I do cherish thoughts of snorkeling with playful sea lion pups.

And when I consider airports, I blot the memory of the woman next to me at Gate 66 who insists on blaring a video call at maximum volume. Instead, wielding my noise-canceling earbuds, Odysseus-like, I plan to smother this screeching sound to preserve my sanity. But before I can insert them, a voice speaks to me.

To all of us, to be technically correct, since it emanates from the speakers of Los Angeles International Airport’s Terminal 6.

“It’s time to play TSA’s favorite game!” says the voice, mimicking a game-show host’s hustle. “You lost it, we found it!”

The speaker explained that someone had left a laptop computer at a checkpoint. The two were reunited moments later, which set my feet in motion, wondering whose voice it was. There at the checkpoint I met Carl Revis, a TSA supervisory officer with a penchant for comedy.

“You don’t have to be a jerk to get things done,” he told me. “I think reaching people through comedy is a lot easier than screaming and yelling at them.”

Taken together, my trip recollections probably qualify me as living proof of Elliott’s traveler’s amnesia theory. The final diagnosis should be clear soon. I’m retiring from full-time work this year, and people inevitably ask what’s next.

It’s not completely clear, I tell them. But I’ll definitely have more time to travel. Maybe sail across the Aegean … what could go wrong?

Swimming ashore from the boat I can see a narrow shingle beach covered in driftwood. There are logs, bamboo canes and the sundried planks of an old shipwreck. The steep climb up the hill behind is not easy. I skirt thick clumps of thorn and abandoned ancient olive trees, scrambling over jagged outcrops of limestone. Every time I curl my fingers into a rocky niche I think about snakes. The only residents, however, are spiders. Their webs are strung between the trees, and so thick and strong that I grab a stick to slash through them. No one has been here for a long time.

Near the hilltop I stumble on a ruined stone building. Who lived here, I wonder? And where have they gone? A few steps further and the land abruptly ends in a vertical white cliff that plummets into an improbably blue sea. Far away, in the haze, there is a stack of Ionian islands and one of them, I know, must be Ithaca.

At that moment I feel footsteps running across my forehead and let out an involuntary scream. An arachnid Achilles has come to take revenge. I leap up, arms flailing. The eight-legged hero heads for the underworld of my left armpit.

In the original epic tales of human adventure, the action starts in the middle of the story, a rule first identified by the Roman poet Horace. At that central moment our protagonist is in a terrible state: probably lost at sea, often naked, and always alone. We want to know: how did things get to this nadir, and where will they go now? It’s a pattern repeated over and over. Take, for example, that ancient classic The Bourne Identity, a 2002 film starring Matt Damon, who appears in the opening sequences floating in the Med like a stunned octopus. He doesn’t even know who he is, but with the hospitality of strangers and cathartic bouts of extreme violence, he inches towards his happy place.

Now Matt gets to do it all again, in a pleated skirt and bronze helmet, appearing as Odysseus in Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey, a $250m blockbuster due for release on 17 July in the UK and US and starring almost every deity in the Hollywood heavens. Go back to the literary Odysseus, however (with Emily Wilson’s brilliant recent translation), and he is much more than a Hollywood action hero. This home-loving husband is also a pathological liar, serial philanderer, murderer, carpenter and, most famously, a traveller. And like all travellers, sitting around the campfire at some later date with listeners agog, he is forced to confront the thorny problem of how to convey the full visceral impact of what happened on his journey and hold his audience. Traditionally, there are two options: the full truth, or the fuller truth.

Back on the clifftop, tickled to death by Achilles, I dive into the improbably blue sea only to find that my assailant has become a six-headed monster that’s dragging me towards a giant whirlpool. And I’ve lost my glasses.

I had come a few days earlier to the Greek mainland and set sail for Ithaca. This is actually easier than it might seem. First, track down a friend with the correct sailing credentials (or get them yourself at the Royal Yachting Association), then gather a crew and search out a boat. Alternatively, pay the extra and hire a skipper. We sailed with Neilson Holidays, which has a mainland base near Palairos on the Ionian Sea. Depending on experience and qualifications, you can either follow a flotilla or go it alone. We arrive and find our boat, Cafard, which my multilingual skipper friend, Fabian, translates as Depressed Cockroach. I wonder if it’s a misspelling of Cavafy (Constantine P), the Greek poet who wrote:

When you set out for Ithaca
Ask that your way be long,
Full of adventure, full of instruction

We stock up and set sail. Adventure and instruction is our hope. My wife, Sophie, has never sailed before and is scoffing seasickness tablets faster than Odysseus’s men gobbled down the sun god’s cattle, and that did not end well. Can we discover a Homeric sense of wonder and novelty on our voyage to Ithaca? And report back truthfully?

Despite the yacht name, the beginning is auspicious. Leaving Palairos we sail into a pod of dolphins, swarming around the bows, close enough to make eye contact. That night is spent on Kalamos, a steep-sided wooded island with a tiny port. In the taverna, cats stretch out under chairs where old men are making a glass of ouzo stretch out too. There is talk of a crashed military drone found by fishermen in a sea cave north of here. The engine was still running and there were 100kg of explosives on board. Is this story also getting stretched a little, I wonder? Or is it connected to the presence of unfriendly Russians on some islands, hiding behind warning signs for savage dogs? Odysseus would not like that. He was fine-tuned to any abuse of hospitality, and perhaps a tad oversensitive when it came to other men flirting with his wife.

The next morning we sail out, stopping at Porto Leone, a village on Kalamos abandoned after the 1953 earthquake. The plan is to stop again at the island of Atokos, where wild pigs reputedly swim off the beach, but the wind picks up and we are properly smashing through the waves. Fabian is loving it. Sophie, amazed not to feel seasick, is letting out shrieks of joy.

We head for Kioni on Ithaca, little more than a scattering of old houses around an exquisite harbour. In August, I’m told, the berths are all taken before lunchtime. The waterfront is a lovely mix: a corner shop that stocks everything, a top-notch bakery, tavernas and some swish boutiques all tied together with colourful plumes of bougainvillaea. In one arty studio, a yachtie with auburn hair and a regal manner is demanding the price of a swordfish sculpture.

“It’s €15,000,” purrs the assistant.

Not everything is so pricey: we find that a good dinner with wine can be had for less than €25 each.

The next day, I walk some of the island’s footpaths, a network that badly needs a strimmer. In the town of Stavros, the tiny museum holds an astonishing array of Homeric treasure that was found in a nearby cave: a second-century BC shard of pottery bearing the inscription “pray to Odysseus” and several pieces of bronze tripod cauldron dated to the ninth century BC. In local minds these are some of the Phaeacian gifts mentioned in The Odyssey.

A mile further up the trail, at a site known as the School of Homer, are the ruins of what may have been a palace – sufficient evidence for locals to build a model in Stavros town square and confidently identify the bedroom of Odysseus. Listen closely and you can almost hear him: “Honestly Penelope, they both bewitched me. I was a sex slave. I couldn’t wait to get home.” The tradition of Odyssean tall tale-telling is in robust good health.

In the highly recommended Margarita Cafe there is another fine tradition on display: cakes. The local speciality is rovani, a delicious spicy concoction served with ice-cream.

Our voyage takes in Kefalonia and the noisy mainland port of Sivota, but the highlight comes with that lonely anchorage off the mysterious island of Meganisi. Parts of the Ionian coast are undergoing a building boom – glass and concrete palaces spreading across the hillsides like a nasty rash. But here we find tranquillity: snorkelling through shoals of fish, exploring vast sea caves and raising a toast to that magnificent poet Homer, and the inspiration he has given to so many for almost three millennia. After a week on the water, we sail back to Palairos. We have all had a great time, even the nervous first-time mariner. I leave with vivid memories, not least that desperate underwater struggle with the deadly spider woman who stole my glasses.

The trip was provided by Neilson Holidays: a seven-day South Ionian flotilla cruise from £595pp (for four adults) including flights from Gatwick; skippered boat from £1,145pp. Travel to London was provided by LNER and accommodation for a trip to the British Museum’s Ancient Greece section by Radisson Blu Bloomsbury

There aren’t many roads in Britain where you can pull over to cook breakfast and finish it without seeing a single car. While my friend Ben got the stove going, I wandered around the ruins of Dun Dornaigil, an iron age broch (stone roundhouse) more than 2,000 years old. Above us, low cloud drifted across the dark cliffs of Ben Hope. This was exactly the kind of lost lane we’d come to Sutherland to ride.

Our journey had begun the day before, in Lairg – the traditional “crossroads of the north”. With its Spar shop, hotel, train station and a population of about 800, Lairg is the largest inland settlement in one of the most sparsely populated regions of Europe. Sutherland – literally, the “southern land” of the Vikings, who held sway over the far north of Scotland from their stronghold on Orkney – tests life to its limits: bare mountains, impassable peat bogs and one of Britain’s wildest coastlines.

Today, the region’s biggest draw isn’t a particular place but a route. The North Coast 500 is regularly ranked among the world’s greatest road trips – and has been dubbed the “Instagram highway”. Over the past decade, its runaway success has doubled the traffic on its roads. Plenty of cyclists do ride the 516-mile (830km) circuit, or parts of it, but we had not come to this far-flung corner of Scotland to spend our time amid a procession of motorbikes, sports cars and campervans.

Heading west from Lairg, we turned into Glen Cassley. On the map, it’s a dead-end lane that dwindles to a rough 4×4 track. After a couple of miles bumping along the gravel, a ribbon of silky-smooth tarmac appears as if by magic (it is, in fact, a service road for a dam and a small hydroelectric generator). It led us up a steep climb over the top to Loch Shin.

From here, the only way across the next range of hills was an old drovers’ road over the Bealach nam Meirleach – or Thief’s Pass – a name hinting at earlier use by cattle rustlers. Thanks to Scotland’s enlightened access laws, we were free to give it a go. The only question was whether our fully laden touring bikes would be up to it. Though boneshaking at times, it was a thrilling 8-mile ride over genuinely remote hill country, passing a string of lochans (small lochs) flanked by huge, glacier-scoured cliffs. Descending into Strathmore, we found the perfect wild-camp spot by the river. Perfect, that is, until the midges appeared, forcing us to don our slightly absurd nylon head nets to keep them at bay.

The next day, after our roadside breakfast by the broch, we continued on a narrow road from Strathmore to the tiny hamlet of Altnaharra. The very name has a romance to it, and I’d heard it now and again on weather bulletins in the depths of winter (the weather station here jointly holds the record for Britain’s coldest recorded temperature: –27.2C in December 1995). A small hotel, originally a 17th-century drovers’ inn but reopened in the 1820s to bring anglers and deer stalkers to the area, is open from March to October. With the sun blazing in a cloudless sky and the land so lush and green, it was impossible to imagine the long, dark winters where heavy snow can leave the handful of local people cut off for weeks.

Downstream of the hotel is a three-arch stone bridge built by Thomas Telford, wittily dubbed the Scottish “colossus of roads”, who gave Sutherland its first proper highways. We set off on his road to the coast. It crosses the western edge of the Flow Country, a seemingly infinite expanse of mountain and blanket bog. Walter Scott described this far north of Scotland as the “immeasurable wilds” and the distant, never-changing horizons can be disorientating. As the miles ticked by, my eye was drawn instead to the microcosm at the roadside: verges dotted with delicate flowers, mosses and lichens; dark, still pools of water ringed with reeds and tufts of pure white cotton grass.

Eventually, we reached the coast and the village of Tongue. As we freewheeled down the hill, a sea eagle picked us out and glided overhead, matching our speed, as if lazily sizing us up for its next meal before deciding we weren’t worth the bother. We stopped for our lunch on the sunny terrace of the Tongue hotel, a former hunting lodge furnished in the Highland style – all dark wood, polished brass, tartan and antlers. Tongue overlooks a shallow sea loch where whales, dolphins, seals and otters are regularly spotted. In the 1970s, a causeway and road bridge were built across the mouth of the Kyle of Tongue, replacing a ferry crossing. Almost no one drives the narrow old road around the loch. It’s a genuine lost lane, with views across the turquoise waters of the loch and inland to the shapely granite peaks of Ben Loyal.

On the far side of the loch is the Moine, for centuries another impassable morass of blanket bog. To cross it, we had no choice but to join the stream of traffic on the fast and wide A838, which forms part of the North Coast 500. A closer inspection of the map revealed a few fragments of the original road, now abandoned. Some sections were a muddy quagmire, but others were surprisingly intact. Along the way, we stopped in at the roofless ruin of a small house where travellers once took refuge from storms.

Across the Moine, we reached the northern tip of Loch Hope, where the Danish billionaire Anders Holch Povlsen has just opened what may be the country’s most expensive hotel: rooms at Hope Lodge cost upward of £1,550 a night. Povlsen is a paradoxical figure. Scotland’s biggest private landowner, his fortune was made from fast fashion, an industry widely criticised for its record on the environment and on labour. Yet, as well as running a handful of luxury retreats, his company WildLand has made ambitious commitments to nature conservation and rewilding on his vast estates. After pondering what comforts lay behind the metal gates of Hope Lodge, we set off down a narrow lane along the shore of the loch, where we spotted two campers quietly rewilding themselves for free.

We soon discovered this was a gem of a lane, with its thick sward of grass up the middle, winding its way past drifts of heather and eucalyptus-scented bog myrtle, and through sun-dappled glades of downy birch and sessile oak. Stopping in a narrow ravine, we drank deeply of the cool, peaty water that spilled down in a cascade. On this 20-mile stretch, we passed just two farmsteads. The emptiness of places like Strathmore is the legacy of the notorious early 18th-century Sutherland clearances in which thousands of farming families were evicted, often violently, to make way for commercial sheep grazing.

Returning to the crossroads at Altnaharra, it was time to turn south on to the road to Lairg. Our destination for the night was the Crask Inn, a historic drovers’ haunt that offers cyclists free camping in the garden. We pitched next to a lone German who was closing in on John o’Groats, the end of a ride that had begun a fortnight earlier at Land’s End. Our tour of just three days had covered 130 miles. We had travelled along lonesome highways, forgotten byways and the remotest of hill tracks. In setting out to avoid the North Coast 500, we had ended up riding where no campervan could go.

Jack Thurston’s new book, Lost Lanes Scotland, is out now (Wild Things Publishing, £18.99). This tour combines two rides from the book