PENELOPE

Men get all the glory. Take Odysseus: the bloke went off to war, had a run-in with a Cyclops and a handful of Sirens on the way back, and suddenly he’s Homer’s darling and roaming bards are talking about him for the next dozen centuries. Yet none of this much interests director Ben Ferris. In the Australian-Croation film Penelope, Ferris has concentrated instead on Odysseus’ long-suffering wife, who had a war all of her own to wage as she waited for her husband to return. In sweeping, choreographed scenes, Penelope explores the two decades through which Penelope (Natalie Finderle) bided her time, outwitting the suitors who would have gladly taken a place in the marital bed and a tilt at the family coffers. Twenty years, after all, is a long time. It is long enough to grow old. It is long enough to become disoriented, to lose your place in the present, to watch your child become a man. Haunting, moody and beautiful, Penelope charts the psychological struggle of being the one left behind.