Tomaso

NOLAN IS A ROCKSTAR WHO WANTS TO BE A POET. His tireless pursuit of intellectual prestige means his multi-million-dollar popcorn flicks end up owing more to critics than to his loyal audience—people who go to the theater to see an epic story, not a philosophical treatise. The major shift Nolan imposes on Odysseus—transforming him into a mythological Oppenheimer—only proves that his ego takes precedence over his characters, a flaw I have always criticized in his films. Nolan doesn't write people; he writes tools that function entirely in service of the plot, lacking any depth unless that depth directly benefits the narrative. In this film, more than in any other of Nolan's works, the characters don't matter at all; they don't feel like real people, but rather like multimillionaire actors playing themselves and reciting lines to move the story forward. This becomes glaringly obvious whenever a member of Odysseus's crew dies: you feel no empathy for the crewmen themselves, only for how their deaths affect Odysseus on his journey back to Ithaca. Speaking of Odysseus, the film completely ignores his nature as a witty, charismatic trickster. Relegating him to the role of a tortured "hero" like Oppenheimer or Batman simply demonstrates Nolan's inability to write fresh protagonists; he merely copies the personalities and internal conflicts of his past characters to craft a plot with the same ultimate thesis as *Oppenheimer*, reducing the story of Odysseus to a basic anti-war film with a message a two-year-old could articulate. The story of Odysseus is not one of guilt, but of how a man's ego and pride can doom an entire crew. "The Horse" is not Odysseus's burden to bear, but his greatest achievement—the feat for which he will always be remembered; attempting to attach a moralistic message to it completely betrays the essence of the character. Despite all these issues, the film is a technical marvel, particularly in its horror sequences, such as the scenes involving the Cyclops and Circe's pigs. All in all, Nolan knows how to put on an epic show, even when his intellectual debt to academic cinephiles leads him to inject convoluted depth into the midst of his fireworks display.

El mejor cinematografo de la historia de México la escena de las velas lo prueba.

This is the type of movie they put in the FX channel while you're in the hospital after a massive fever.