a modern odyssey: how queer casting ignited a hollywood debate.

Written by Dean Russell (he/him), Head of Comms at Proud Changemakers

Ancient Greece is having a moment again. This time thanks to Christopher Nolan’s new film, The Odyssey  and of course, the internet is already spiralling over the rumoured casting: Lupita Nyong’o as Helen of Troy(apparently “the face that launched a thousand ships” can’t be Black?) and Elliot Page as Achilles (a trans hero? clutch your pearls!).

But here’s the thing: if you actually look closer at Greek mythology and culture, the outrage is pretty ridiculous.

I grew up obsessed with these stories. The gods, the monsters, the drama, the tanned, lean, musclebound heroes in very short togas definitely didn’t hurt… but I digress. But the more you dig into these myths and legends, the clearer it becomes: the ancient Greeks were far more fluid about sexuality and gender than the people complaining about it today.

Achilles and Patroclus? Deeply queer-coded long before modern retellings like The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, brought their love story front and centre. Apollo? In his grief, he literally turned his male lovers into flowers and trees. Caeneus? A transmasculine warrior blessed by Poseidon. Sappho? The original lesbian icon, writing love poetry to women on the island of Lesbos.

Queerness wasn’t a footnote. It was woven into the culture, the myths, the art and even the armies. The Sacred Band of Thebes, an elite military unit and one the most successful in the ancient world, was made up of 150 male couples and literally defeated Sparta, yes that Sparta of 300 fame. (Take that, Gerard Butler!)

So, when people get worked up about Elliot Page playing Achilles, it’s worth remembering: these stories have always been retold, reshaped, reinterpreted. Greek Gods played by English actors, Grecian heroes played by Americans… nobody batted an eyelid. But a queer reinterpretation? Suddenly it’s “not accurate”.

The truth is really quite simple. Queer people have always existed and we’ve always belonged in these stories. Seeing ourselves reflected in them isn’t rewriting history, it’s reclaiming what was already there.

And honestly, if ancient Greece could handle gods turning into swans, golden rain, and men becoming flowers, modern audiences will survive a trans Achilles. If anything, it brings these myths closer to the spirit they were born from. Wild, fluid, imaginative and unapologetically human.