We’ve all been there, sitting in a dim theatre, utterly mesmerised by breathtaking visuals, mesmerising sound design, and sweeping camera angles, only to have a main character open their mouth and say dialogue so terribly written it feels like a cold slap in the face.

Classical translator Emily Wilson’s harsh critique of Christopher Nolan’s popular adaptation of the Odyssey is currently causing a complete meltdown on the film side of the internet. Wilson analyses how Nolan renders complicated characters lifeless and flattens epic myth into emotionally hollow spectacle in her scathing article for the London Review of Books. Her criticism touched a raw nerve among both fans and movie buffs, as evidenced by The Guardian’s quick coverage of her attack.
Wilson didn’t end there. Commentators applauded her willingness to state what Hollywood ignores in a widely shared LitHub compilation of her harshest remarks. In a YouTube Short [00:22], Wilson elaborated on her observations that Nolan’s protagonist lacked genuine human drive, leaving us with endless self-pity rather than real, breathing motivation.
“I also wanted to try to make a somewhat serious point, which is that ideally a protagonist, whether it’s in a film or a written narrative, needs to have desires, needs to want things.” – Emily Wilson

Nolan’s error is a sign of a serious ego issue in modern filmmaking, not a singular error. For decades, director-writers, or “auteurs,” if we’re feeling fancy, have persuaded us that mastery over every word on the page is necessary for cinematic brilliance.
But let’s face it, screenwriting and directing require completely different skill sets. Visual visionaries consider rhythm, colour schemes, shadows, and scale. Screenwriters consider subtext, rhythm, vulnerability, and true human warmth. Characters become flat exposition machines and cease to sound like humans when a visual director works without a professional screenwriter to check their ego. Although Nolan is capable of creating surreal visual landscapes, his characters frequently speak to an empty room as though they are reading from a textbook.
Staying in your lane is completely acceptable. Despite not being the author of Jurassic Park or Jaws, Steven Spielberg allowed talented screenwriters to handle the human heart while he controlled the spectacle, making both films timeless masterpieces.
Hollywood has to quit using screenplay as a way to enhance the egos of visual directors. Give the typewriter back to those who truly understand how humans communicate and let the masterminds create amazing worlds.