People make a big deal out of Odysseus 'not really apologizing,' but I think that completely misses the point about how Poseidon just sang a whole dang song about ruthlessly murdering your enemies and then in the next verse low-key mocks Odysseus for even thinking he would accept an apology.
Odysseus says that letting Polyphemus live was because he wants to be merciful
And to an extent, sure, he's sick of killing after the war
But he also just wanted to feel good about himself
He had absolutely no reason to give Polyphemus his name and address, and outright demand that Polyphemus carry the knowledge of who crippled him unto his dying days, except to hurt him
Which rather flies in the face of his whole "I don't wanna perpetuate the cycle of violence and bloodshed anymore"
He wants to make Polyphemus suffer for killing his friend, yet also get to claim the moral high ground
And even when he's on his knees before a god he still tries to frame it as him being an innocent man who not only had no choice but to blind Polyphemus, but who "meant no harm" and "took no pleasure" in doing so
Which is an outright lie
Odysseus meant tons of deliberate harm, he wanted Polyphemus to suffer, and he did so out of vengeance for fallen friends (No different than Polyphemus taking out his grief over his slaughtered sheep on Odysseus and his men)
But Odysseus is hanging a fig leaf over it all that says "But at least I didn't kill him, so that makes me better than him"
Ignoring the infant he threw off a wall
Sure, Poseidon was never going to just let him go no matter what he said
But Odysseus wasn't trying to call a bluff here, he was desperately grabbing at the only hope he had in the face of divine wrath
And he still couldn't admit his sins
Hence the false righteousness that Poseidon is calling him out for
In the Odyssey, when Odysseus reveals his name to Polyphemus, he does it as part of a boast about how he's so strong and smart and warlord-y and was thus able to beat him.
Also, Poseidon could have meant for Odysseus and his crew to just beg for forgiveness rather than want any "fairness". In which case he'd kill a small/half chunk, tell him again he sucks, then leave. It's more likely Poseidon was indeed planning to ignore any apology, but I like Odysseus digging himself in deeper
Back on Polyphemus, in that incident Odysseus was acting disrespectful from the start. His crew walks into a likely to be inhabited place, kills his pet, then when P asks for them to pay in the sense of justice, Odysseus frames it as a transaction and treats the loss of his beloved pet flippantly. So his whole speech about being merciful and Polyphemus being an evil monster really is self-righteous
I had always taken the "line between naivete and hopefulness" line as being a bit of chastisment from poisidon to himself about letting himself believe that ody might actually admit fault and take responsibility.
1. As a classicist, I appreciate your use of the correct plural. People jump to cyclopi and cyclopses, but cyclopes is correct and a good word and it made me happy to see.
2. Polyphemus is a shepherd in the Odyssey, this isn't him taking on the cattle of the sun from Helios. I don't recall him having a favorite sheep, but the attempted sheep thievery is the reason he gives for killing and eating them all, in so far as he provides justification at all. Unless you just meant in him giving a shit at all about the sheep beyond as his property, in which case, yeah, I don't recall him being genuinely sad. Though it has been a while.
3. In the Odyssey, Odysseus has already pissed Poseidon off before the book starts. Not for killing Astyanax, but for claiming full credit for the Trojan Horse. Poseidon contributed the idea (IIRC this is why it's a horse in the first place) and received no credit, so Odysseus maiming his son was just making him more mad. Don't think it's canon to Epic, but I wanted to share all the same.
2. Polyphemus is a shepherd in the Odyssey, this isn't him taking on the cattle of the sun from Helios. I don't recall him having a favorite sheep, but the attempted sheep thievery is the reason he gives for killing and eating them all, in so far as he provides justification at all. Unless you just meant in him giving a shit at all about the sheep beyond as his property, in which case, yeah, I don't recall him being genuinely sad. Though it has been a while.
"Unmoved, he said, "Well, foreigner, you are
a fool, or from some very distant country.
You order me to fear the gods! My people
think nothing of Zeus with his big scepter,
nor any god; our strength is more than theirs.
If I spare you or your friends, it will not
be out of fear of Zeus. I do their bidding
of my own heart. But are you going far
in that fine ship of yours, or somewhere near?"
The next four songs tell of Odysseus and his men's visit to the island of Aeae, and their encounter there with the witch-demigod Circe. Coming right on the heels of Poseidon throwing them clear across the Mediterranean and killing eleven twelfths of them, and with "Epic" so far leaning very hard into the darker and more psychological aspects of the Odyssey, this could have easily been too much bleakness.
However, "Epic" throws a curveball here and reimagines the Circe encounter considerably. In fact, it turns it into a surprise hope spot while still managing to stay *mostly* true to the sequence of events. It makes it serve the story well, and deviates from the source material without (at least, to my decidedly non-Greek understanding) disrespecting it.
Gigi delivers another top-tier animatic to rival their work for "Keep Your Friends Close" as Odysseus' remaining crew makes a pit stop on Aeae and encounter a powerful new foe. The sunset color scheme fits both the implied time and place of the events, and evokes a dreamy, sensual atmosphere while still suggesting the danger of a coming night.
Gigi also tops their old animation-flex by intercutting TWO spinning-around-a-character shots together in high tempo during the fastest part of the music. Impressive, and also hilarious when you know about the real life circumstances that led to it. They also give a ton of personality to Circe, having the witch kinetically bounce and flip her way around the scene as she revels in her power and control.
Anyway, the story!
Odysseus sends Eurylochus to lead a few men inland to find more supplies, while he sits on the beach and beats himself up over the recent disaster with Poseidon. Eurylochus comes back early and alone, and - in a pace-changing rap monologue that subsequently gives way to something almost discolike - he tells of how all the men but him were unable to resist the beautiful woman who invited them into her palace full of attractive nymph maidservants and delicious food. Eurylochus' prickly, pessimistic nature turns out to have guided him well in this instance, as he watched through the window as the others ate the food and were promptly transformed into pigs.
Gigi's imagery adds one small detail that makes the entire thing far more gruesome by implication. It's specifically roasted pig that Circe serves them. And her lyrics make it clear that they're not the first group of sailors she's transformed.
This begins (well, I guess technically it started with Polyphemus) what will turn out to be an ongoing theme of cannibalism and cannibal-like imagery throughout the rest of "Epic." In later songs it's the music itself that starts leaning into this, not just the third party animatics.
Eurylochus, great guy that he is, declares that they've dealt with too much magic bullshit already and should just cut and run now. Odysseus refuses to abandon his men to be fattened and roasted for the next group of visitors though, and defies Eurylochus' misgivings to go attempt some kind of rescue. Through it all, Circe sings her own little villain song about the harsh necessities of survival, and the importance of ensuring one has complete power and control over everyone and everything around themselves.
...
And yeah, she has her song within the song. "Puppeteer" is like three or four songs in one track, and it flows like water.
...
Her lyrics do hint at Circe having more complex motives here than the arbitrarily malevolent and predatory Odyssey version of her. There's one place where the animatic goes an extra step and turns one of her lines to the lured soldiers, "I've got you, don't worry Circe's got you now," into a kind of double-entendre. The song on its own makes it seem like she's still talking to her soon-to-be-pigified victims, but the animatic shows her turning to one of her nymphs and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder while assuring her that she's got this under control.
Nice extra bit of foreshadowing. Clearly, this animatic was made after the next few songs had already been released.
On a casting note, Circe's voice immediately stands out for being the only non-American sounding VA. The singer's heavy London accent makes Circe seem distinctly foreign to the rest of the cast, like she's something different and out-of-context for the heroes. I've since learn that this accent is an affectation rather than the singer's natural dialect, so yeah, this aspect is probably deliberate.
I've also since learned that she was voiced by creator Rivera-Herran's girlfriend, and that he also performs the voice of Odysseus himself. So, that's kinda cute.
Not quite as powerful musically as some of the earlier tracks, but Circe's balance of seduction and menace and Eurylochus' transition from rap solo to more typical rock opera dialogue were minor standouts within it, and the musical diversity of the track is impressive. As far as visuals go, it's probably one of the best animatics so far, great work from Gigi.
After leaving Eurylochus and proceeding alone toward Circe's lair, Odysseus is surprised by lute chords, a color shift from monochrome to blue, and the god Hermes. True to mythology, Hermes is played as a flighty trickster figure here, even moreso than the musical's take on Aeolus. However, unlike Aeolus, his role in the Odyssey isn't made darker or more double-edged. In fact, he's the first purely helpful figure that the travellers encounter on this painful adventure.
Also, he too has a British accent. Not sure if this one is affected or not. Maybe Aeae is just the Little England of the ancient Mediterranean or something, idk.
A Flamenco-ish dance number, delivered with whimsical camp gay mannerisms, has Hermes inform Odysseus that Circe isn't a level-appropriate encounter for him, but that he's got a way of changing that. The moly root (or "holy moly" as he dad-jokingly calls it at one point) will...well, in the Odyssey it just gave Odysseus temporary spell immunity, but here it turns him into a temporary stand-user. He can create a monster, and maintain and control its existence for several minutes, with any harm done to him being absorbed by his creation. Heh, well, sure, okay.
In the source material, Hermes is sort of vaguely implied to have shown up to help here because of some ties between him and the Ithacan royal family. That isn't hinted at in the musical, though. Instead, Hermes says that he's here because he wants to, as per his divine purview, "send a message."
Two songs from now, the message will become apparent.
Smushing these two together because they're really one song, and because - though the animatics are by different artists - the work on "Done For" really didn't impress me much. With the exception of how AnniFlamma portrayed the stand-battle between Circe and Odysseus. That part was done really well.
I don't know if Circe has any mythic connections to the chimaera, but the decision to have Odysseus conjure a cyclops to fight it is an inspired one. It shows that Polyphemus, with all that he represents and all the consequences that the encounter with him have had, are very much at the top of Odysseus' mind. And also, on a purely practical level, Polyphemus was almost certainly the most physically powerful creature that Odysseus has ever seen, so it makes sense he'd draw on those memories to create a fighting machine.
These songs are a proper duet, with Circe and Odysseus singing opposing verses before harmonizing as their conflicting agendas reveal shared motivations. Circe explains that because of how humans have treated her nymphs in the past, she's adopted a "shoot first, ask questions never" policy when it comes to visiting sailors. Given that her method of shooting involved playing the sex card among other types of bait, and that she specifies men in particular as the ones who pushed her to this, well, the implications about what used to happen are pretty clear.
When her magic is unable to get through the moly root's powers, she resorts to her...well, to what's normally her first resort, heh.
Odysseus hasn't seen a woman since he set sail from Troy, and he hasn't touched a woman since he departed from Ithaca twelve years ago. He's tempted. But his motivation for going through all of this is his overwhelming love for his wife and son, and being unfaithful to her is one line he simply will not cross. He recoils from Circe's seduction attempt and falls to his knees, explaining what he needs to do and why. The animatic has him actually abandon the advantage he'd gained in the stand battle and drop his weapon, leaving himself defenceless as he begs for her to have mercy on him and his men.
Circe (who, in the animatic, had been getting ready to stick a poisoned dagger in his back the moment he let his guard down. Apparently, this is a visual storytelling beat that Rivera-Harrens actually suggested to the animatic-artists himself, so it's very much the musical's intent and not just artistic license) stops what she's doing. She puts her clothes back on. She sits down, and...soon they're like this:
A look of pain and remorse crosses the witch's face, before her voice takes on an innocently, chastely cheerful tone, and she relents. Not only does she turn his men human again, but she offers - purely as a favor - to help Odysseus find a way home. As best she can, at least. She can't make sea travel safe for someone on Poseidon's shitlist, but she knows of someone who might know how to do it. The prophet Tiresias is dead, but Circe's magic allows the living to visit the realm of Hades and commune with its residents. The ghost of Tiresias has historically been pretty happy to keep advising those among the living who can reach him, so Odysseus should consult him.
The rising crescendo of the ending, when Circe turns the pigs back into men and the animatic shows them joyfully running back to the ship and embracing their comrades, is one of the most powerful moments of "Epic" so far. Especially with Circe's last words hanging over the scene.
"There are many ways of persuasion, there are many modes of control. Perhaps one act of kindness might lead to kinder souls down the road. I remember actions of passion, for I have been in love once before. Maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more."
There have been plenty of emotional moments throughout the album, but this is the only one - apart from Odysseus' shameful act at the end of "Just a Man" - that brought me to tears. And for the opposite reasons.
...
Earlier, in "Wouldn't You Like," Hermes said that he was trying to send someone a message. When Odysseus uses his temporary stando powers in "Done For," Circe immediately concludes that Hermes must be responsible for this (there's actually a pretty funny gag here, but I digress). Implying that Hermes has been on her case for some time. Wouldn't it make perfect sense for the Messenger of the Gods to be able to sniff out the perfect proxy - the one person most likely for the recipient to listen to - when he happens into the area?
In fact, who's to say that the ship coming to Aeae was a coincidence in the first place? Hermes is often portrayed as a guide as well as a messenger. After they escaped Poseidon and started looking for a resupply island, Hermes might well have guided them here so that this - despite his many faults - remarkably faithful man could help him get through to Circe.
Circe is obviously a foil to Penelope. Penelope is waiting on Odysseus' home island, and he's worried about still being worthy of her love when he gets to her. Circe is waiting on a dangerous island in hostile waters, and she turns men into subhumans. To Odysseus himself, though, she isn't a foil but a mirror. Not a dark mirror, or a twisted mirror. Just a plain mirror. Which means that, just like her, perhaps he can start making steps toward redemption, and toward creating a world where killers like themselves will no longer be created.
In the Homeric original, Odysseus only got his men free and his tip about Tiresias by agreeing to be Circe's lover for a year before resuming his journey. "Epic" flips it around, making it Odysseus' refusal to be seduced that convinces Circe to help them instead of killing them. The really ironic thing is that, from where I'm sitting, someone like Circe is probably easier for Odysseus as he is now to relate to than Penelope is. If it weren't for their lack of genuine interest in each other being the foundation of their new friendship, I'd ship them so hard right now.
Well, their singers at least got the same vibes apparently.
...
Anyway. Surprisingly positive and uplifting spin on what was one of the most unpleasant bits of the Odyssey. The darkness is coming back quickly, though.
In a shameless nod to the "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies, this animatic has decided that traveling to the underworld means having your ship flip itself over and vanish under the surface of the water.
I lol'd. Things get heavy right after this, though.
Before casting the spell, Circe warned them about what they were likely to see and hear in Hades. However, Odysseus is still not prepared. The 500+ men who drowned a few days ago are only the first ghosts that are waiting to haunt him. Their asking him why he couldn't just kill the damned cyclops so they could live, only the first haunting moans that assail his ears. Next, of course, is the infant prince of Troy, forever falling from a tower with a shadowy figure at its top. Then Polites, still singing defiantly that life can be amazing if you just greet it with open arms, as he drifts forever through a sea of the dead.
Odysseus sings - in a tight-chested howl - that these are why he can't sleep. It's even worse seeing them up close like this. And then he hears a new (for the audience) voice, and sees a face he didn't expect.
His mother, still singing about how she's sure her son will come back from the war any day now. She'll wait. She'll see him if it's the last thing she ever sees. She'll make sure she lives long enough to see him come back. She'll make sure.
The fantasy of going back home like nothing's happened is gone. Home has changed since he was there. Changed for the worse. Just like he himself has. And knowing that she died waiting for him to come back from a pointless war that he never intended to sink that much damned time into is just a twist of the knife.
On a casting note...on one hand, Rivera-Harrens casting his own mother as the mother of the character he voices gives it a nice meta touch. On the other hand, it does seem kinda weird that Odysseus' mother has a Puerto Rican accent and none of the other Greeks do. She's a good singer, they're clearly a very musical family, but.
The ship makes it to the little underworld-island-place that Tiresias hangs out on, and a freshly re-traumatized Odysseus hops off to talk to him.
It's a pity that this is Tiresias' only song in the entire album, because the voice they got for him is a standout even against Epic's top-tier lineup.
Still, if he had to only have one song, this was definitely the one to give him. Much like "Keep Your Friends Close," "No Longer You" is very stylistically different from most of the album. The sweeping, operatic belting, the caravel-like spin (too bad the animatic wasn't Gigi again ) of the music and voice...you know what it reminds me of, actually? "Le Miserable." Yeah, it's like a Le Mis song surrounded by mostly Hamilton songs. There might be a bit of a meta joke here, harkening to an older style of musical for the song delivered by a man out of time.
Anyway, Ghost Tiresias might have the single best singer in this whole damned project. I'd have to hear more of him to say it with confidence, but he's definitely in at least the top three. On to the content now!
Tiresias answers Odysseus' question - does he see any possible world in which he makes it home? - in spirit rather than in letter. What Odysseus is really asking, just as his dream sequence in "Keep Your Friends Close" spelled out - is whether he can have his old life back. To which the answer is, of course, no. Tiresias sees a man who is "no longer you" entering the Ithacan palace, trying to (bloodily) assert control over an island that has been kingless for far too many years, and being alone with Penelope.
Odysseus wilfully misinterprets this as "someone else is going to steal my wife and kingdom," and promptly runs off to feel sorry for himself and curse the gods for never giving him a chance.
In the Homeric original, Odysseus only got his men free and his tip about Tiresias by agreeing to be Circe's lover for a year before resuming his journey. "Epic" flips it around, making it Odysseus' refusal to be seduced that convinces Circe to help them instead of killing them. The really ironic thing is that, from where I'm sitting, someone like Circe is probably easier for Odysseus as he is now to relate to than Penelope is. If it weren't for their lack of genuine interest in each other being the foundation of their new friendship, I'd ship them so hard right now.
Yeah, and I don't blame him. While a sad number of other ancient sources act like he just forgot about leaving for a year, in at least one other myth Circe turns a married king into a bird for refusing to sleep with her when he explicitly declares he wants to be loyal to his wife. We know what she gets up to, and there's no indication moly lasts forever.
While IMO it's an important part of the story, removing some (all? (I've not yet seen how Calypso is handled)) of Odysseus' being raped is absolutely the right move for a musical that isn't going to focus on that alone. Like, absolutely the best and easiest thing to cut that I can think of.
Apparently, this is a visual storytelling beat that Rivera-Harrens actually suggested to the animatic-artists himself, so it's very much the musical's intent and not just artistic license
Don't recall if he suggested it to the community directly, but he and Talya Sindel did act it out and this video was around over a year before the Circe Saga album came out in full so the animatic makers (some of whom made animatics even of just partial clips like these) had plenty of time to make art/mini animatics of that scene.
Yeah, and I don't blame him. While a sad number of other ancient sources act like he just forgot about leaving for a year, in at least one other myth Circe turns a married king into a bird for refusing to sleep with her when he explicitly declares he wants to be loyal to his wife. We know what she gets up to, and there's no indication moly lasts forever.
While IMO it's an important part of the story, removing some (all? (I've not yet seen how Calypso is handled)) of Odysseus' being raped is absolutely the right move for a musical that isn't going to focus on that alone. Like, absolutely the best and easiest thing to cut that I can think of.
Calypso might be easier to swing because there isn't the weird ambiguity you see with Circe in the text--Odysseus flat out states that nothing between them is consensual and begs her to let him go in what we're told is a repeated effort on his part. As opposed to Circe, Calypso is essentially nothing but an obstacle.
Calypso might be easier to swing because there isn't the weird ambiguity you see with Circe in the text--Odysseus flat out states that nothing between them is consensual and begs her to let him go in what we're told is a repeated effort on his part. As opposed to Circe, Calypso is essentially nothing but an obstacle.
I've seen ahead beyond the commissioned parts (sorry to anyone who was hoping to purchase a blind reaction to the rest of Epic), and it plays Calypso as a pretty blatant metaphor for drug addiction.
Gigi's imagery adds one small detail that makes the entire thing far more gruesome by implication. It's specifically roasted pig that Circe serves them. And her lyrics make it clear that they're not the first group of sailors she's transformed.
