Samantha Morton's Circe performance in The Odyssey is a poignant body horror nightmare
- Brian Fanelli

- 1 day ago
- 4 min read
Homer's epic poem The Odyssey is filled with monsters, many of which show up in Christopher Nolan's blockbuster adaptation. There's the cyclops Polyphemus, son of the Poseidon, who eats several of Odysseus' men, until Odysseus blinds him and thus, angers Poseidon, further delaying his return to Ithaca. There are also the sirens, cannibals, and the gods that take various shapes and forms, either delaying Odysseus' homecoming or assisting him, depending on how they feel about the wily warrior at any given moment and what he may have done to piss them off.
One of the most memorable characters Odysseus encounters is Circe, who turns his men into swine when they visit her at the island of Aeaea. She's sometimes depicted as a nymph and sometimes a goddess. Part of it depends upon the translation. Regardless, she's often portrayed as daughter of the sun god Helios and the Oceanid nymph Perse and yet another monstrous obstacle that Odysseus has to overcome if he ever wants to see his wife Penelope and son Telemachus again. In most translations, Odysseus agrees to live with her for a year and even has sons with her, until he's eventually freed.
How Christopher Nolan and Samantha Morton updated the Circe myth in The Odyssey for modern audiences and created pure body horror
In Nolan's film, Circe is played by Samantha Morton, and though her scene only lasts about 10 minutes, it's one of the most horrifying and effective sequences in the film, while updating the character for 21st Century audiences. When Odysseus' men arrive on the island, they see various animals. Anyone familiar with the text knows what comes next. Odysseus eventually realizes what's going on after he shoots a deer with an arrow, and it transforms back into a young man.
Odysseus' men, starving, fill Circe's living quarters and feast, per her invitation. There's a reoccurring theme throughout Nolan's film about "Zeus' law," meaning that if guests show up, you feed them and provide shelter, and in turn, the guests show gratitude for the hospitality. However, in this case, Circe does what she can to protect herself. After all, Nolan's film is clear to underscore and highlight the brutality that Odysseus and his men committed in Troy, ransacking the city, slaughtering men, and terrifying women and children. Circe lives by herself, and her magic is essentially her only protection against men quick to kill, rape, and pillage.
The moment when she turns the men into swine is pure body horror. She feeds them to satiate their hunger and then runs her hands all over their bodies, until they're nothing but squealing pigs. It's an unsettling transformation scene that would fit well in a David Cronenberg movie. When Odysseus confronts her, she tells him that she turned his men into what they truly are. It's a powerful scene and one of the best in the film.
In an interview with Variety, Morton said the scene made her "take a good long look at the behavior of mankind and men in particular." She added that she comes from a military family and said, "War is complicated. Men are complicated. Our relationships with men as wives, sisters, daughters are complicated. I drew on that. And there are people in my family that have been sexually assaulted and raped, and I thought of that as well."
Morton's comments and her performance as Circe gel with the broader themes Nolan's film addresses, including Odysseus' growing guilt over the Trojan War. After all, the Trojan horse was his idea, and it worked. Otherwise, Troy's walls would have held. The war was a stalemate until that point. He's a PTSD-rattled character, trying to remember, but remembering forces him to confront the sins he committed. In turn, Circe shows Odysseus the truth about an aspect of his men and the ugly deeds they committed that he's not willing to confront, at least not yet. It's another way that Nolan showcases the horrors of war and the traumatic aftermath.
When Morton delivers her lines, she never does so with anger. In fact, her voice barely rises. Instead, there's a confidence she gives Circe, especially when Odysseus sits at her table and his men, in pig form, snort, squeal, and knock at the door from the outside. In a battle of wits, she can hold her own with the man responsible for the great Troy's downfall. Instead of making her an archetypical predatory female character, Nolan, and Morton through her performance, slightly rewrite Circe to show why and how she needs to defend herself from men who come from the sea, eager to eat her food and abuse hospitality.
The Odyssey is an epic poem filled with monsters, many of which show up in Nolan's adaptation. While some may point to Nolan's version of Polyphemus as the most horrifying creature, I'll go with the body horror sequence as the most chilling. It also illustrates the broader themes at play in the blockbuster, and it's one of the best transformation scenes that I've watched in a while. The film, specifically Morton's performance, also updates Circe for a modern audience, while reminding Odysseus of what he and his men committed and what they're still capable of.
If you want to indulge in Circe even more, I suggest reading Madeline Miller's novel Circe, which retells some of the events from The Odyssey, but from Circe's perspective.
The Odyssey is currently in theaters.




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