Beautifully realized grand but human epic, faithful to the scope and spirit of its source

Rating: 10/10 (2 September 2004)

The bare bones of this material should be familiar to everyone. Paris (Orlando Bloom), a Trojan prince, falls in love with Helen (Diane Kruger), the unhappy wife of Menelaus (Brendan Gleeson), king of the Greek city-state Sparta. The trouble starts when Helen leaves Menelaus and runs off to Troy with Paris. Menelaus turns for help to his brother Agamemnon (Brian Cox), who as king of Mycenae is the most powerful man in Greece. Agamemnon seizes upon this excuse to assemble a coalition of Greek armies to attack Troy, the richest city and primary obstacle to Agamemnon's sole control of the whole region. Troy is ruled by an elderly king, Priam (Peter O'Toole), and defended by Hector (Eric Bana), Paris' older brother, who is heir to the throne and Troy's greatest warrior. Agamemnon and Menelaus lead against the Trojans a host of great Greek warriors, principally the clever Odysseus (Sean Bean), the giant Ajax (Tyler Mane), and the famous Achilles (Brad Pitt) who is believed half-immortal and thought invincible. What ensues is the Trojan War.
Thank the filmmakers for allowing themselves to be "inspired by" rather than slavishly copying the "Iliad". It is one of the great mercies of the film Troy that they spared us Homer's unendingly confusing superfluity of names and consolidated the primary roles while eliminating extraneous characters (most of whom existed in the "Iliad" solely to be killed off by one of the principals in some particularly gory fashion). Beyond this, most of the modifications of the source material serve to strengthen the story of clarify the motivations of the characters. For instance, by failing to mention that Helen also took a hoard of treasure with her when she left Menelaus for Paris, we no longer have to wonder whether Menelaus is more concerned with getting back Helen or getting back the money. His motivations become more straightforward, and thus more powerful to the audience.
Other modifications are equally successful in promoting the strength of the work. Director Wolfgang Petersen ("Das Boot") sidesteps the whole literary controversy over whether Achilles and his friend Patroclus were, or were not, bisexual lovers by treating Patroclus (Garrett Hedlund) as Achilles' young cousin and ward. In so doing, he sets up a particularly effective parallel structure between Hector's natural care and protectiveness of young Paris, on the one hand, and Achilles' for young Patroclus on the other.
In this film version, director Petersen avoids the active interference of gods in mortal events. Here whatever happens, happens, free of supernatural control. This is a legitimate directorial approach, and greatly empowers the story. It is not necessary for us, the audience, to believe in the Greek gods. It is sufficient that the characters in the story believe (or not, in the case of Achilles) in the power of the gods over their lives.
Thank the filmmakers, too, for toning down the explicitness of the violence:
reading Homer's detailed account of headloppings and disembowellings is quite revolting enough, but visualizing such on the screen would send a film straight into "NC-17" land. "Troy" effectively suggests the horrors of war and the sack of a city without actually making us watch babies being thrown from the walls.
The battle sequences in "Troy" are uniformly excellent, succeeding equally well in conveying both the grand scope of whole armies at war and the intimate consequences to individual persons. The unique nature of period combat tactics and techniques is effectively captured. The large battle sequences as well as individual encounters are each distinct and tell their own story: By the time Achilles (Mr. Pitt) and Hector (Mr. Bana) finally meet in their climactic duel, the audience is so effectively prepared and emotionally engaged that one can hear a pin drop in the theatre while the two mythic heroes battle it out. In these days of endlessly overdone computer-generated battle sequences, there is something so . . . fundamental. . . about reexamining the days of hand-to-hand combat between live men with real faces.
That the audience come to care so strongly about the fates of these characters is a great tribute to the exceptional performances of a truly exceptional ensemble cast, who take these mythic -- almost archetypal -- figures of legend and give them life and scope. Once again filmmakers successfully turn to a pantheon of great British character actors to bring power and feeling into even minor parts. Specially noteworthy are Mr. Cox for his endlessly ambitious Agamemnon and John Shrapnel for his aged adviser Nestor. I particularly enjoyed Mr. Gleeson's blunt and brutish Menelaus, who honestly doesn't seem to "get" why his beautiful young wife found him revolting. Mr. Bean's turn as the wily Odysseus is so enthralling one could eagerly await an "Odyssey" sequel. And the regal Saffron Burrows is so moving as Andromache, the loving wife and future queen of Hector, that their relationship quietly becomes even more powerful to the audience than the more explicitly rendered loves of Paris and Achilles.
Of the three principals, Mr. Bloom deserves especial credit for making the most of what must have seemed an exceedingly thankless part. He plays Paris with an earnest sincerity that not only makes us understand why Helen would throw all to the winds for his sake, but also succeeds in winning our compassion and forgiveness for the youthful blindness of an adolescent striving to become a man. The chemistry of Mr. Bloom's Paris with Mr. Bana's elder brother Hector (particularly well cast, as a pair) becomes one of the most interesting relationships in the film. Paris' question, "Do you love me, brother? Would you protect me against any enemy?", thus becomes the crux of all the conflict that follows. When Paris awkwardly dons his helmet before facing Menelaus, he appears to the audience a little boy lost in his brother's clothes; at that moment one can understand, finally, why the elder brother can never bring himself to sacrifice the younger, even to save his country.
Frankly, I expected to laugh at Mr. Pitt's turn at Achilles, thinking the part simply beyond his scope as an actor. But I confess Mr. Pitt did surprise me. After some rocky going early on -- the Phthia scenes filmed on Malta -- Mr. Pitt seemed to settle in to his character and make Achilles his own. Not a minor achievement. The film makes considerable effort to render Achilles a more sympathetic character, but it's an uphill battle. He still necessarily spends all that time sulking in his tent, for instance, for ultimately rather petty and irresponsible reasons that nonetheless produce major and severe consequences for all those who rely upon him. The character remains conflicted. If the legendary Achilles was half-immortal and hence neither quite a god nor quite human, this Achilles seems equally torn. The man "born to take lives" seems so remote from connection with the humans he kills that he seems almost bestial. There is a conscious identification with lions that seems quite deliberate: when Achilles stands atop the Trojan beach with other men's blood dripping off his helmet, he appears more ravening beast than human man. The film tries to gradually humanize Achilles through his interaction with Briseis (Rose Byrne), but that character is a composite of at least three different women from Homer's "Iliad", and at times that composite nature shows. The romance between Achilles and Briseis is ultimately less convincing in Achilles' resolution of his inner struggle than his relationship vis-a-vis his opponent, Hector. Only when Achilles can admit to himself that he has at last met a peer, an equal, and that in that meeting has destroyed a man worthier than himself, can Achilles finally connect with his own humanity. Then, and only then, can he die -- and the death of Achilles ultimately comes across more as a blessed release, than a tragedy. He has finally learned what it means to be human.
Mr. Pitt notwithstanding, however, the emotional core of both "Troy" and the "Iliad" remains not Achilles but Hector.
If the Australian-as-beeah Mr. Bana has been previously little known in the United States, that clearly is due to change. His compelling performance as the timelessly fascinating Hector is nothing short of brilliant. Hector is perhaps the most complex character ever drawn by Homer (which is saying quite a lot, given that a whole epic was devoted to Odysseus), and Mr. Bana brings Hector to life in full colour. A deceptively straightforward man, tragically caught between impossibly conflicting obligations. A surprisingly gentle and peace-loving man, doomed to spend his entire life at war. A young man, whose last shreds of youthful optimism and illusion were torn away by bitter experience long before time. A pious man, he honours the gods, but has learned through hard experience that the gods help those most who help themselves; he has learned to expect no miracles. He has seen, and probably done, terrible things, things that he shudders to contemplate, and yet must face everyday. A loving son, brother, husband, and father, he is torn by conflicting loyalties toward those he loves. Without direct political power, he nonetheless carries alone the full burden of the state. He is, in a real sense, trapped by his own success at achieving the impossible. One good man, tragically doomed by circumstances beyond his control. And yet . . . it is the manner in which he chooses to meet that doom which is itself most characteristic. Hector represents, in so many ways, the ultimate assertion of the human spirit.
Demanding role? Certainly. Yet Mr. Bana never falters. His powerful but sensitive rendition of Hector never ceases to move and fascinate, dominating the screen.
Leave it to a grand master, however: 70-year-old Mr. O'Toole has lost none of his skill and power, and his Priam at times steals the whole show. His timeless lament of a father for his slain son would move a stone to tears. After seven unsuccessful nominations, could a Best Supporting Oscar at last come within Mr. O'Toole's grasp?
Production values throughout are excellent. Cinematography and framing of shots constantly reinforce the duality of individual acts with epic scale consequences. Superior costume design keeps each major character "period" but distinct at all times, difficult to achieve in such a true cast-of-thousands picture. Even the musical score is worthy of note, especially the haunting ethnic vocal soloist (Tanja Tzarovska) whose tones echo over the destruction of war like the timeless voice of ageless loss and woe.
One final observation: Warner Brothers did themselves no service in their ill-conceived promotional campaign based so solely on Mr. Pitt. "Troy" succeeds, but succeeds as epic human drama ably realized by a truly outstanding ensemble cast. Mr. Pitt's turn as Achilles is only one part of this epic, and never really the most interesting part. More honest and effective publicity would have touted the timeless epic scope and broad emotional impact of the film: the Trojan War still interests us today because in so many ways it embodies every war, and the impacts of war on its characters still resound with an audience today because those choices, those motivations, and those impacts are equally real today.