Meta Description: Join Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle for a feature-length review of Wolfgang Petersen’s Troy. We analyze the “Hollywoodizing” of the Iliad, the composite character of Briseis, the tragedy of the “Boy Band” cast, and hand out the coveted “Illies” awards.
Introduction: The Face That Launched a Thousand Scripts
Welcome back to the “Vomitorium,” listeners! In Episode 7, hosts Dr. David Noe and Dr. Jeff Winkle tackle the colossal 2004 blockbuster Troy, directed by Wolfgang Petersen.
The episode opens with the film’s most iconic line, delivered by a hulking warrior shortly before being dispatched by Brad Pitt: “Is there no one else?” It is a fitting question for a podcast hosted by two classicists, because when it comes to reviewing a movie based on the Iliad, is there really anyone else qualified to do it?
The hosts revisit this “sand-and-sandal” epic years after its release to answer a fundamental question: Is Troy a misunderstood masterpiece of the sword-and-shield genre, or is it a disaster worthy of a Greek tragedy? The answer, as it turns out, is a little bit of both.
The Good: Mirabile Visu (Wonderful to See)
Despite their scholarly critiques, the hosts admit that Troy gets some things right. It is a visual spectacle that demands to be seen on the biggest screen possible.
- The Sets and Costumes: The production design is lauded for its “verisimilitude.” Dr. Noe notes that the costumes and sets feel authentic to the Bronze Age, creating a believable world for the heroes to inhabit. The visual scale of the Greek fleet approaching the beach is a standout moment, capturing the sheer magnitude of the Bellum Troianum (Trojan War).
- Achilles’ Fighting Style: Brad Pitt’s portrayal of Achilles is a major point of discussion. While his accent wanders between “British” and “Indiana”, the physical performance is undeniable. The choreography of his combat style—described as a “leaping, twisting, dance of death”—perfectly captures the superhuman agility of the “swift-footed” hero.
- The Duel: The fight between Achilles and Hector (played by Eric Bana) is highlighted as the film’s high-water mark. It is brutal, emotional, and technically flawless. Dr. Winkle suggests it might be the “Rob Roy” of ancient combat scenes. The tension is palpable, heightened by the specific sound design. Dr. Noe notes that if you watch with subtitles, the sound of the chariot wheels is described as “wickering”—a detail that adds a strange, tactile reality to the scene.
The Geography: From Malta to Cabo Wabo
One of the more amusing tangents in the episode concerns the filming locations. To recreate the ancient world, the production traveled to Malta, Morocco, and… Mexico.
Specifically, the massive walls of Troy were built in Cabo San Lucas. Dr. Noe jokes that this location is famous for Sammy Hagar and his “Cabo Wabo” tequila . This leads to the disturbing mental image of Sammy Hagar perhaps serving as an extra in the background, or maybe even standing in for the Red-Haired Menelaus. It is a reminder of the “Hollywoodizing” of the geography—the Troad is nowhere near the Pacific Ocean, but in the movies, whatever looks epic wins.
The Bad: O Tempora, O Mores! (The Narrative Choices)
For two professors of Classics, the film takes liberties that are hard to forgive. The primary issue is the script’s desire to “fix” Homer for a modern audience.
The Absence of the Gods
The most glaring omission is the removal of the divine machinery. In Homer, the gods (Di Immortales) are active participants. In Petersen’s Troy, they are reduced to statues. Dr. Noe argues this strips the story of its metaphysical weight.
- The Atheist Achilles: The film turns Achilles into a proto-atheist who desecrates Apollo’s temple with zero consequences. In the myth, such hubris would result in immediate divine retribution (or at least a very difficult trip home).
- The Loss of Fate: Without the gods, the war becomes just a petty squabble over a woman and some land, rather than a cosmic event ordained by Zeus.
The “Briseis” Problem
The character of Briseis (Rose Byrne) is a prime example of Hollywood efficiency gone wrong. In the Iliad, she is a war prize with very few lines. In the movie, she becomes a composite character absorbing the roles of three different women:
- Briseis: The love interest.
- Cassandra: The royal priestess of Apollo.
- Clytemnestra: The killer of Agamemnon. Yes, in this film, Briseis kills Agamemnon by stabbing him in the neck during the sack of Troy. This robs the audience of the tragic aftermath of the war, where Agamemnon should be murdered by his wife in his bath. Dr. Noe calls this a “total lack of self-control” on the part of the filmmakers.
The “Boy Band” Cast
The hosts note a certain aesthetic choice in the casting of the younger Trojan heroes. Paris (Orlando Bloom), Patroclus (Garrett Hedlund), and Aeneas all have a distinct “Boy Band” quality—pretty, slight, and looking like they belong more in One Direction rather than a Bronze Age war.
- Patroclus: Described as appearing like he walked off an “after-school special,” his lack of grit makes his impersonation of Achilles laughable rather than tragic.
- Aeneas: The future founder of Rome is given a “Sword of Troy” by Paris in a scene that feels entirely unearned, simply because he is the only other young, handsome guy left standing.
The Ugly: Horribile Dictu (The Illies Awards)
To wrap up their critique, the hosts hand out their own specialized awards, dubbed “The Illies” (named after the Iliad).
The Tiresias Award (Most Obnoxious Character)
- Nominees: Paris (Orlando Bloom) and Patroclus.
- Winner: Patroclus. While Paris is annoying, he is supposed to be. Patroclus is meant to be a noble warrior, but the performance is so wooden and “boyish” that it becomes insufferable.
The Procrustes Award (Scene That Should Be Cut)
Named after the mythical figure who cut people down to size, this award goes to the most unnecessary scene.
- Winner: The “Heart-to-Heart” between Paris and Priam. Paris tells his father, “You love every inch of Troy… every grain of sand.” The hosts found this dialogue so overwrought (“every grain of sand?!”) that it elicited groans rather than tears.
- Runner-Up: The passing of the “Sword of Troy” to Aeneas. A clumsy attempt to set up a sequel that would never happen.
The Worst Performance
- Winner: Orlando Bloom. While Dr. Noe eventually developed some sympathy for Bloom after watching the behind-the-scenes features (acknowledging it’s a hard role to play a coward), the performance ultimately lacks the complexity required to make Paris interesting.
- Runner-Up: Diane Kruger (Helen). The hosts felt she wasn’t given enough “fire.” Helen is the daughter of Zeus; she should be commanding, not just a passive victim of fate.
The Saving Graces: Sean Bean and Peter O’Toole
It wasn’t all bad acting. The hosts take time to praise the veterans.
- Sean Bean as Odysseus: Known to fantasy fans as Boromir, Bean brings a grounded, wily intelligence to Odysseus. He narrates the opening and closing, anchoring the film with his voice. The hosts appreciated his delivery of the line, “We all play with the toys the gods have given us”.
- Peter O’Toole as Priam: O’Toole brings “Old Hollywood Gravitas” to the role of the Trojan King. Even when delivering cheesy lines about grains of sand, he commands the screen with absolute authority.
Latin Language Spotlight
For those looking to expand their Lexicon and understand the film’s context, here are the key terms:
- Ilium: The Latin name for Troy.
- Bellum: War.
- Ira: Wrath. The defining emotion of Achilles.
- Superbia: Arrogance. The hubris displayed by Agamemnon (and the film’s Achilles).
- Pietas: Duty. Hector represents duty to family and state.
- Machina: The device or scheme (like the Trojan Horse, or the plot devices used by Benioff).
- Vomitorium: The exits of a theater (and the name of the Ad Navseam studio).
Conclusion: A “Carnegie Hall” of Gore
The film ends with a montage of destruction that Dr. Noe describes as a “Carnegie Hall” of gore—a macabre spectacle where Apollo’s temple becomes a slaughterhouse.
Dr. Noe concludes the episode with a reflection on the etymology of the name Homer itself.
- Homeros can mean “Hostage.” (Many viewers felt like hostages during the 3-hour runtime).
- Homeros can mean “He who does not see” (Blind). Dr. Noe jokes that if Homer were alive to see Troy, he might be glad he was blind.
The Gustatory Parting Shot
We leave you with a quote from Charles de Gaulle, reflecting on the difficulty of governing a nation with too many choices—a sentiment that could apply to adapting a poem with too many characters:
“How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese?”
Valete!
