“Pomo Homer”: A Review of Troy  © 2004 Christopher S. Morrissey

                  Briseis is revealed as Achilles’ heel in Wolfgang Petersen’s Troy, a postmillennial retelling of the plot of Homer’s Iliad. Homer enclosed the Calydonian boar hunt in his Iliad, a myth within the myth, as both a nod to what was previously big box office for bards, and a guide to old hat newly worn (Il. 9.646-737). Phoenix’s internal account of the mythical Meleagar thus mirrors Homer’s own innovative portrayal of the insufficient merit, in the archaic age, of a warrior’s mere rage. Petersen’s Troy likewise constructs a new story around the re-interpreted core events of an old myth, appropriating and humanizing the characters for a new age.

In Homer, Briseis is a bit part. She is mere booty, a prize occasioning Achilles and Agamemnon’s quarrel as they compete for wartime power and recognition (1.138-221, 334-55). Homer uses this quarrel to explore the common humanity of both Achilles and Agamemnon. Eventually they abandon the mad fantasies that have shattered their lives (9.19-32, 137-9; 16.115-9). Homer ends both with their reconciliation to each other and Achilles’ to his mortality (23.979-92; 24.591-646). The theme of the narrative is Achilles’ resentment and, as Eric Gans has argued, the poem exhibits high culture’s expulsion of this ethically destructive and morally potent rage.

In the Troy movie, Briseis reprises her role as the narrative’s plot device. But she assumes a new centrality with her postmodern victim status. Disappointingly, Agamemnon is a stock Hollywood villain with no redeeming qualities, and he gets his postmodern comeuppance when the empowered female victim, Briseis, kills him with her knife. This spares Clytaemestra her famous murder (Od. 11.439-529, 24.219-25), and, in our age of war amidst wild accusations of empire, demographically satisfies the resentment of the masses on the periphery, but with the cheapest of pop culture tricks. Achilles himself arrives too late to rescue Briseis, the feminist damsel in distress. But he is not too late to be shot down by Paris’ arrows, the first into his notable heel. Briseis thus becomes (in the movie’s reinterpretation of the human desires driving the Trojan War) Achilles’ fatal weakness (whereas in Homer it is his outsized rage and resentment).

The formally clichéd tragic Hollywood ending is deployed, however, with self-conscious formal innovations involving the new femme fatale, Briseis. Achilles’ character arc (played out in an MTV time span of days, not as the culmination of a ten-year war) is reconfigured to pivot on new heroic content: his erotic surrender under Briseis’ knife. His heroism is thus rehabilitated (according to postmodern necessity) by Briseis. She allows him to get in touch with his sensitive side, to make the fatal decision to resolve to abandon the Trojan War and to sail for Greece with her. Patroclus’ death functions to dispel this fantasy (which here romantically doubles Helen’s; but cf. Homer, Il. 16.115-9). Achilles’ reconceived character thus marks the movie as a postmillennial reflection on the clichéd sacrificial requirements of the postmodern esthetic. Although belatedly (i.e. anachronistically) heroic for Briseis, Achilles must die in a Hollywood catharsis anyway. Yet Paris’ arrows bring redemption for the classical hero, in a redemption palatable to the romantics of the new millennium.

In the postmodern retelling of the legend, it is Achilles’ desire to rescue Briseis from the sack of Troy and play the apparently obsolete male hero that constitutes his fatal mythical flaw, rendering him vulnerable. But his willing sacrifice of himself to these postmodern narrative exigencies tragically highlights the problem that Briseis’ newfound victimary centrality poses for classical male heroism. Both erotic and martial desire (Paris and Patroclus) claim victim status, putting the affirmative action on the victims’ behalf (of Hector and Achilles) into plot-driving conflict. The sacrificial solution reveals a doubling of the romantic tragedy: if Paris and Helen are victims, then so are Achilles and Briseis. But this Hollywood ending is not just Achilles’ but also postmodernism’s Achilles heel. For Apollo’s delayed sacrifice of the impious Achilles to his priestess Briseis reconstitutes Achilles’ real (and heretofore undisclosed) glory as nothing less than immortal chivalry.

Works Cited

 

Gans, Eric. “The Culture of Resentment,” Philosophy and Literature 8.1 (1984): 55-66.

Homer, The Iliad. Translated by Robert Fagles. Penguin, 1990.

Homer, The Odyssey. Translated by Robert Fagles. Penguin, 1996.