The Huckleberries Vol. 25 - The Odyssey & The Invite

     Obviously we want to have an area for reviewing new films here at The Film Encomium, but we want to send a message with our methodology. That message is a simple one: Don’t forget about the fun. 

Yes, film can be transformative, prophetic, and groundbreaking. It can also be none of those things and still be a damn good time, and we want to validate both of those experiences. If you want to bask in satirical critiques of both literature and society, we recommend the Coen Brothers; but if you want to become well-rounded, you should also pay your proper respects to the Russo Brothers.

It is from the balance of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn that we draw inspiration for the title of this section. Tom is clever; Tom is great. If there were one of those boys we were going to try to get into Harvard, it would be young Mr. Sawyer…but he will always need his Huckleberry. 

We all need our Huckleberries. Art needs its Huckleberries. Sometimes beauty is in the little things and reasoned reflection. Other times beauty is loud, bright, and bold. In the interest of providing our readers with a comprehensive experience, we are not willing to skip The Huckleberries. 

So, with that in mind, here are two exceptional flicks that dropped in theaters recently. The first will show you the lengths someone might go to if their true love sat waiting across an endless ocean. The second will show you the lengths someone might go to if their true love sat waiting across an endless apartment. Enjoy!

The Odyssey -

This website did not exist the last time Christopher Nolan released a feature film, so perhaps it behooves us to provide you with some background on our complex feelings about such an iconic director. It would not be reasonable to say that we at The Film Encomium dislike Mr. Nolan, but it may be fair to say that our opinion on him has—in recent years—been below market value. There is little debate that the man is a bona fide artistic genius, but as sometimes happens with genius, we feel that he developed a slight tendency to say yes to a few too many of his own ideas over the years. The splendor never went away, but in the years since The Dark Knight, his movies began to include 1-2 too many storylines and run 15-45 minutes longer than necessary. 

Now, we clearly don’t usually focus on the negative around here, but it felt necessary to give you some context before delving into loving analysis of The Odyssey. The truth is, all those intricacies and elaborations which sometimes lead Nolan flicks to wander or linger are qualities that feel custom-built for adapting this particular story. Desiring to do a deep dive into every single inch of a story is a much more charming quality when someone is reproducing a 3,000-year-old epic than when they are simply postulating endlessly at products of their own imagination. 

 Which is perhaps why there is so much to discuss regarding how remarkable and outstanding this particular iteration of Homer’s legendary poem is. It is immaculate in both grand design and attention to detail. There are very few films in cinema history that can call themselves equal to this when it comes to inspired use of practical effects. There are gargantuan threats to Odysseus throughout this tale, and the task of bringing them to life with little-to-no CGI must have been equally imposing. 

The devout commitment to craft very obviously crossed over into the cast where there was a true ensemble of performers driving one another to an unforgettable level of combined excellence. Matt Damon leads the pack as Odysseus, but every single role is filled with a skilled thespian fully inhabiting their respective character. The actors themselves endured many of the trials portrayed in the film—from having their faces physically deformed, to shooting action scenes on the open ocean, and even locking themselves inside the Trojan Horse itself—which is just one more aspect of the final creation that contributes to its intense emotional resonance. 

In the end, all that really needs to be said is that The Odyssey and Christopher Nolan were made for one another. There will be many people who debate this, but as far as this outlet is concerned, we have just seen the magnum opus of one of our greatest modern directors. Never has his particular style paid such profound and instantly timeless dividends. This is the fourth perfect film of 2026, and it is the greatest entry into one of the most elite auteur filmographies. Everyone should watch it on the largest screen they can find, and no one needs to bother remaking this legend again for a very long time. 

Oh, and it’s time for us to start including Ludwig Göransson in conversations about who is the single greatest film composer of all time—with no qualifiers whatsoever necessary. 

The Invite -

Another adapted work, The Invite is one of several reimaginings of Cesc Gay’s stage play Los vecinos de Arribas; the first of which Gay himself first brought to the silver screen in 2020’s The People Upstairs. The concept has quickly garnered global appeal, as subsequent adaptations have surfaced in Switzerland, Italy, France, and an upcoming Dutch/Belgian collaboration—not to mention this A24-produced iteration here in the United States. It certainly seems to carry the right combination of simplicity and gravitas to be fluent in the universal language of storytelling. 

The screenplay was adapted by Rashida Jones and Will McCormack, but it was Olivia Wilde taking the helm on this comedic gem. Wilde—who also takes on one of the four costarring roles in the film—exercises her vision for this production with both heart and precision. This is her third foray into the director’s chair, and although her sophomore attempt Don’t Worry Darling was a bit more rocky, The Invite has her back on the illustrious trajectory that her first movie Booksmart had her set on. At this point, there is every reason to consider her one of the rising directors in Hollywood with the highest ceiling for potential.

  With that being said, her work behind the camera shouldn’t overshadow the remarkable work she does in front of it. The format of this film is such that there are only four speaking roles and almost their entire storyline takes place within a single apartment. Those aspects of this piece will make it an attractive target for local theater groups to take their own shot at adapting, but it also serves the purpose of allowing incredibly skilled actors to flex their chops a little bit—and that is very much what we have with the version in question. 

Wilde’s character is neurotic and unhinged whilst still making the audience sympathetic with her plight. Seth Rogen may never be the chameleon-esque type who can morph into a total stranger, but he has gained the capacity to do subtle and understated work within the scope of his specific archetype. Penélope Cruz’s character Pína manages to bridge divides between others just as Cruz herself is able to bridge the humorous and dramatic angles of this film together. And as for Edward Norton? He reminds us all once again that his theatrical legacy should be as much about his flawless comedic timing as it is about any of the more serious roles he has taken on. 

All in all, this is a work that is not overly complex, yet is sophisticated in the manner it engages its audience emotionally. It is made in such a personal fashion that one cannot help but find it relatable. Carried along on clever writing and standout individual talents, this is an exploration of connections and consequences. You wouldn’t be wrong if you called it the funniest movie of the year, but it is also so much more than that.  

~The Film Encomium~