No prior knowledge of Greek folklore is required to view the latest summer epic, Troy. These days, audiences are bound to know more about who the film's stars are dating than anything about the poems, mythology or stories upon which the film is loosely based. For those approaching the material with a clean slate, it will make for enthralling storytelling. And for the academics looking to dissect its accuracy, there may be minor cause for peeve-osity at the omission of the Greek deities, featured so prominently in Homer's epic poem the Iliad, but overall, considering this is a Hollywood blockbuster, the plot still more or less works.
Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom and Eric Bana star as Achilles, Paris and Hector. Their combined screentime in either shirtless or tunic-less mode will no doubt help in box office draw among the ladies, and perhaps even with respect to DVD sales down the road. You never know. Anyway, Paris has been smooching the lovely Helen (Diane Kruger), despite her marriage to the bully Menelaus (Brendan Gleeson). When the two young lovebirds decide to set sail for Troy together, trouble starts a brewin'. Menelaus seeks the help and swift action of his brother Agamemnon (Brian Cox) and Paris's brother Hector is miffed to have had a war started over the tryst. Achilles, a backbencher with no love for Agamemnon, is enlisted to wage war on the Trojans.
It is at this point that a lot of Big Battles step in and a lot of Majestic Music starts to swell. Although the CGI work in Troy is a little more seamless than an average movie, the emotional impact is about as blasé, not to mention a little too familiar. In one scene, as tension builds at the Trojan fortress, we feel instantly transported to Helm's Deep in The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (it doesn't help that good old Legolas and Boromir are in the cast here). In another, as dozens of frontline Spartans jump ashore from the flagship out of a thousand vessels, the ghost of Saving Private Ryan's up-close Normandy carnage is not only summoned, but mimicked in places.
Despite the film's comparably longer running time, few are likely to fall asleep during Troy. It is reminiscent of the big epics of yester-year only in look and in dialogue; the action sequences here are far more extensive and frequent, providing plenty of entertainment for those half expecting to be dulled by speeches and dramatic diversions. The most agreeable piece of casting is with King Priam, played with innate nobility and empathy by Peter O'Toole. That his presence alone elevates his scenes above any number of other scenes in the film that simply try too hard may even earn him a supporting actor nomination next year. Brad Pitt, however, fares far less well thanks in part to David Benioff's script, which attempts to polarize a character who should be either completely or almost completely good and pure. Here, in a story that attempts to explore the humane aspects of characters such as Hector and Priam, Achilles arguably comes off as one of the biggest villains in the film, which works heavily against it as a whole.
Some of the mis-steps in the details are difficult to digest. At the beginning, a giant soldier is called on to fight Achilles, who is otherwise pre-occupied. We are meant to believe that two entire armies will wait where they stand while a boy is summoned to get Achilles, a superhero who takes his good old-fashioned time getting ready. When he finally shows up, the waves of soldiers part for him, he does a god-like Matrix maneuver, yet the leader of the opposing army has never even heard of him. Another eye-rolling incident occurs about a third of the way into the movie, when initially I was impressed by a small detail that I caught out of the corner of my eye. A corpse lay on the ground and coins were placed over the eyelids of the fallen soldier. I grinned to myself that the producers did their research, because I knew this was a ceremonial custom in which the dead are given fare to pay the boatman Charon, who will take their souls across the river Styx. However, a few minutes later, they showed the same tradition again, this time more prominently. Then a third time. Then a fourth. And on and on, sometimes even in the dialogue as well. It was irritating because what could have been a small little detail that demonstrated a striving for precision ended up being a contrived repetitive device to latch onto.
This multiplex offering is directed by Wolfgang Petersen, who underwhelmed us with The Perfect Storm and Air Force One. It's possible that a film like Troy will have its staunch supporters and vehement opposers, but I tend to think it's more likely to fall into Wolfie's trend: impartial viewers who are unmoved and indifferent to what's up there on the screen. Certainly, that's the camp that I found myself falling into by its muted conclusion.
