L’odyssée (2016)
(On Cable TV, January 2022) At first glance, the idea of a warts-and-all biography of French oceanographer Jacques Cousteau seems both essential and redundant: Cousteau is nearly a modern-day icon, his work in vulgarizing ocean science having reached generations of people. (Although his influence is definitely waning decades after his death—today’s younger audiences may be more familiar with the Wes Anderson parody of him in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou than having experienced his TV specials first-hand as I did as a boy.) Is there more to say? Well, yes: While L’odyssée doesn’t quite stand as a definitive take on the man, its multi-decade narrative spanning everything from the immediate aftermath of WW2 to the 1980s offers glimpses at a man who had a tumultuous personal life, scientific ambitions that were left behind by the modern world, and personal failings that were magnified by his fame. At slightly more than two hours, the film has trouble fitting all of the biographical material in itself (Cousteau’s wartime heroics are definitely given short thrift) but still manages to cram a lot in there. As befitting its subject, the film does feature some great underwater footage and decent production values despite often reaching beyond the confines of its budget. Cousteau’s ascendancy to media fame is portrayed methodically, as are the issues inherent is transforming solid-but-dull science into something made for the masses. Cousteau’s marital indiscretions are mentioned, but you will have to step out of the film to learn more about his “second family.” The same goes for much of his tainted legacy and the gradual fading of his dreams of underwater colonization—mentioned but not dwelled upon, as Cousteau’s later years were definitely not as glorious as his heydays of media fame. Still, the film serves as a visually interesting primer on Cousteau-the-man as compared to the legend. Lambert Wilson does well in a good role spanning decades of aging, as does Audrey Tautou in an often-inglorious role as the wife reminding Cousteau of his obligations to their relationship. As most flashy biopics go, L’odyssée is best watched as a condensed collection of high points rather than a serious biography: but it did spur me to read Cousteau’s Wikipedia pages (The French one is more complete) and learn a lot about him in the process. There are defendable choices in how his story is presented on-screen, choosing an Antarctic endpoint more triumphant than the slow fade (and financial implosion) that his career experienced to the end. But that’s the nature of biopics—celebrate the highs, acknowledge the lows but leave audiences on a high note. Not good science or history, but good entertainment. Cousteau would probably chuckle at the parallels.