‘The Odyssey’ Is an Unexpected Reminder of Why I Love Writing

How Christopher Nolan altered the course of my writing career

Aug 06, 2026

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When Oppenheimer first released to theaters in the summer of 2023, I enjoyed it so much that I saw it twice. The way that director Christopher Nolan told the story of the atomic bomb pierced me so deeply that I decided to heed his repeated nudges and track down tickets for a 70mm IMAX showing. As one of the select few earthlings living within a manageable drive of a theater that actually meets those stringent screening requirements, I decided it was only right to experience the summer blockbuster “as Nolan intended.”

The above phrase has become a running joke following the release of The Odyssey as purists scramble to secure seats for those rarefied screenings, as contrarians taunt those aficionados by macgyvering ways to stream the movie on crank-powered Game Boy knock-offs, digital scales, and nicotine delivery devices instead, and as Christopher Nolan continues stoking the pandemonium on both ends by imploring viewers to seek out cinemas that, more often than not, require air travel before one can even enter their parking lots.

I had to buy tickets three weeks in advance for my 70mm outing with Oppenheimer, as I recently did with The Odyssey. But sitting down with popcorn in hand, it was immediately clear why Nolan had been so adamant. Dramatically more visual information was on display than in a typical theater. The screen occupied so much of my field of view that it immersed me in the narrative in a way that almost no movie ever had. (Interstellar was then my lone exception — another Nolan movie I had the privilege of seeing in Philadelphia’s Tuttleman IMAX before it tragically closed. As a child, I never stopped to savor being born within a 15-mile drive of two of Earth’s then forty-two remaining 70mm theaters.)

I found Oppenheimer stimulating enough that, between my two viewings, I managed to write three separate pieces on the film — one standard review, one discussion about the IMAX experience, and one about the movie’s broader cultural significance. In truth, I can’t stand to read any of them today.

And yet, I’m grateful that those humble beginnings continue to stand as enduring reminders of how much my writing has grown and changed. Those Oppenheimer pieces in particular also represented a turning point in my career as a writer, and my entire relationship with entertainment.

It was one of those articles that put me in touch with Simon Dillon, who had recently been recruited by Eric Pierce to serve as an editor for Fanfare, the largest entertainment-focused publication on Medium. It was one of the first publications I encountered that ran such a tight editorial ship that the idea of having my work there seemed like it would be a real honor. And when I began submitting there, it was among the first experiences that I had on Medium with editors who truly cared about what they published. (Sarah Paris and Paul Combs also warrant special shout-outs here.)

Seeing my work featured there for the first time, alongside a queue of so many other talented authors, felt as though I’d reached a new milestone. Though I’d been on Medium for well over a year before submitting my first article to Fanfare, I quickly recognized it as a Goldilocks zone between the rigidly bureaucratic experiences I had had writing for a professional newspaper and the hands-off-to-the-point-of-raising-concerns approach that I’d experienced with so many of Medium’s purported editors prior to then.

Fanfare’s standards pushed me just enough outside of my comfort zone to continue growing as a writer, but never so much that I felt stifled. Having such a terrific home for my entertainment pieces also inspired me to develop my writing within a particular niche in a way I never before had. (I’m still unwilling to give up pestering my email subscribers with satires about raccoons in RFK JR. costumes, heavy political diatribes, or lofty screeds on religion and the ramifications of technology. It would be an equal shame to forfeit my love for circuitously overlong anecdotes and openings.)

All of this thus far is to say that The Odyssey indirectly reminded me of my love for writing, and not because of its greatness (it is awesome), but because a new Christoper Nolan movie can’t help but mark a personal inflection point for me. It’s an anniversary of the summer three years ago when I began taking my entertainment writing more seriously, and when covering my favorite shows and movies evolved from an experiment into a core part of my voice and identity as a writer.

There’s a poetry to the fact that Oppenheimer and The Odyssey would both celebrate July releases, separated by only a few years and a few days; that I’d watch each at the same IMAX theater as an escape from the same, swampy Pennsylvania heat; and that this latest film would be every bit as spectacular and provocative as that prior entry — if not more so.

It only seemed fitting that I write another three articles on another Nolan movie to bring this journey full circle — even if this piece, admittedly, has very little to do with the film itself.

There was another actually-pertinent-to-The Odyssey topic I thought I might be able to efficiently squeeze into this reflection. But out of fear of this piece becoming even more top-heavy than it has thus far, I’ll save my thoughts on the movie’s writing for another day and keep this one focused squarely on the personal.

With that, I’ll close with a request to my readers to forgive my discursive ways, a heartfelt thank you to any of you still aboard this crazy train, and — should the gods or Aeolian winds propel me onward — a gentle warning to brace yourself for the possibility of a fourth piece on this same movie.