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Yesterday I overheard some movie talk. Now overheard tells you that I got within earshot of a conversation I did not belong in. So, I just turned my hearing aid to stealth mode and listened to some “reel” important points.

They were talking about an upcoming Lou Gehrig film, as if anyone could say "Today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth,” better than Gary Cooper or Lou did. My imitation isn’t too bad, but I have to be talking into a fan to get the proper, choppy-syllable effect.

Yet, choosing an actor wasn’t the issue. What bothered them was that they weren’t sure viewers would engage in a plot that was about a guy from three generations back. The English teacher in me couldn’t hold back.

“Great Caesar’s ghost! Get off your Trojan High Horse. The Odyssey is about folks from at least five generations back and is the hottest ticket in town.”

Those people looked a little stunned but seemed better when I shared some insight and took a step or two back. Just like in the Christopher Nolan epic, individuals feel more comfortable if you are not close enough to hit them. Once I started explaining that movies about old people have value, they were gradually disarmed.

Let’s face it, The Odyssey is also about a lot of people finding free stuff. It’s Cracker Jacks in cinematic form. Who wouldn’t like that? A free wooden horse. All-you-can-drink wine at Ithaca. Seven years of lotus petals and Calypso dance lessons. A plethora of banquet choices at Circe’s Pork Pit. And all the monsters you’d ever want to keep an eye on.

Just like that historical classic, The Princess Bride, this is a wonderful tale about love that asserts "tru wuv, will fowow you foweva... so tweasure your wuv." In both stories love conquers almost everything, but it takes a while.

Reducing twenty years of “she loves me” and “he loves me not” and lost-love confusion to three hours was an immense task. Maybe Christopher could have just had all the main characters at a toga party singing along with Billy Ray and "Achy Breaky Heart".

That song, however, would not have done justice to the journey. No matter how strong the country twang, it cannot capture the incredible passion of yesteryear. Penelope loved Odysseus.

In the movie he loves her right back … when he remembers her. Telemachus loves his daddy, and only a conniving, cowardly con man would not love old Argos (aka Old Yeller). And almost everyone loves someone enough to swing a sword or launch an arrow in his/her honor.  "What's Love Got to Do with It?" Well, Tina, everything.

The movie is violent. Fisticuffs. Stompin’. Lost limbs and sword-and-projectile intrusions. Winning hurts. Losing hurts even more. Guilt and trauma leave some gaping wounds, but in the end the good guys sail off into the sunset without bandages.

The R rating seems justified, but I want you to know it’s got nothing to do with nudity. Despite all the beach scenes, clothes are on except for some naked pigs. Steve Reeves showed more cleavage when he wore an x-small tunic in his Hercules portrayal than you’ll see in this sword-and-sandal fantasy.

The story started when Helen of Troy launched a thousand ships. In ended when Odysseus launched in arrow through a bunch of axes. Even though the percentage appears high, the script let love win about half the time. Mickey Rooney would have liked those odds, but I doubt he could have strung the bow to get the leading role.

Before you call the content editor, consider the source of this review. I am not Siskel and Ebert. To quote the main character in Homer’s poem, I am “Nobody — that's my name. Nobody — so my mother and father call me, all my friends." If you feel you need to be more polite, Mr. Nobody would be just fine. Better yet, you can always just call me to lunch at Willow Leaves.