The 2010 version of Clash of the Titans continues the ten-plus year run of movies set in the ancient world that have followed upon the success of Gladiator back in 2000. Some of these films have tried to portray actual events from ancient Greek and Roman history (Alexander, 300, etc.), while others have opted for the cinematic possibilities of portraying more fanciful tales drawn from mythology (Troy, The Immortals, etc.). Although Clash obviously falls in the latter category, all these films share one thing in common: they’re less concerned about portraying the ancient world historically accurately than they are with making as much money as possible (surprise!). For that to happen, besides the usual crowd pleasing exoticism, sex, violence, and special effects, they must portray stories, characters, and values that reflect their modern audiences more than those of the ancients whom they purport to depict. In the case of Clash, the emphasis is squarely on the crowd pleasers, held together by a tenuous story and minimal character development that remind us that men are better than gods (ancient Greek ones, anyway), good is better than evil, and moderate piety is better than either proud atheism or fanatical devotion.

Clash presents a story of the hero Perseus that resembles the ancient Greek myth only in its most familiar ways. Yes, Perseus was the son of Zeus and a mortal woman; yes, he did cut off Medusa’s head; and, yes, he did save Andromeda from a sea monster. Other than that the film’s plot is mostly a fabrication of its screenwriters’ rather limited imaginations. Initially a reluctant fisherman who wants nothing more than to be an ordinary man, Perseus (Sam Worthington—much more likable here than in his star-making Avatar role) transforms into a bad-ass demigod hero when caught up in a titanic battle that pits gods against humans and even gods against gods (none of whom are actually Titans, by the way). Blaming the gods for the death of his adoptive mortal family (yes, the all-to familiar filmic inspiration of vengeance for harm done to one’s family), Perseus joins a human rebellion against the gods that culminates in his showdown with a giant sea monster called the Kraken—borrowed from Norse mythology by way of the 1981 version of Clash. In fact, the new Clash is clearly more indebted to the 1981 version than it is to the original Greek myth, borrowing from it as well the character Calibos (the hideous, accursed version of King Acrisius, who looks a lot like an Uru-kai plucked from The Lord of the Rings), a fight with giant scorpions, and a prominent role for the flying horse Pegasus (which barely figures in the original myth)—though credit should be given to the filmmakers for explicitly dumping the 1981 film’s Star Wars R2-D2-inspired mechanical owl, Bubo! At any rate, the plot of the new film is complicated (of course!) by a subplot involving Hades’ (a sympathetically evil Ralph Fiennes) attempt to use the human rebellion against the gods to overthrow his brother Zeus (the ubiquitous but always reliable Liam Neeson) as master of the universe. This allows Perseus’ fight to become directed at the villainous Hades, which in turn allows Perseus to become reconciled with his estranged blood father Zeus, whose only shortcoming in the film is the rather benign need for people to love him so much.

The story of Clash, while pretty thin, necessarily has to embody values and characters that a modern audience can relate to, even at the cost of altering the ancient Greek myth. In the original myth Perseus must complete the seemingly impossible task of cutting off the head of Medusa in order to save his mother from the clutches of an unwanted suitor (long story…). In succeeding, Perseus shows the patriarchal ancient Greeks that mortal men are capable of more than we might expect, particularly those who are blessed with special talents (they must be part divine!). At the same time he also shows us what it takes to become a man, maturing from a boy under a woman’s protection (his mother’s) to a man who now protects his women. To do this he must prove his power over women (resisting the temptation to look at, and then slaying Medusa) and to overcome male rivals for his women (the unwanted suitor). He doesn’t do all this alone, however, as the gods provide him with guidance and special tools, like winged sandals, an adamantine sword, and a cap of invisibility. So, we see that the powers-that-be in the universe can both help and hinder mortal men, but in the end it is up to us to take advantage of our good fortune and overcome our ill fortune in order to fulfill our true potential.

By contrast, in the 2010 film Perseus’ mother is killed off at the very beginning of the film, thereby eliminating the whole ancient Greek boy-becoming-a-man theme. Conversely, a prominent place is given to both of Perseus’ fathers, his adoptive father, a humble, hard-working fisherman, who curses the unjust gods, and his blood father, Zeus, for whom Perseus has much ambivalence, but who can’t help loving his son and helping him when he needs it most—something to which modern fathers (and anyone who’s seen the Star Wars saga) could certainly relate. A good-versus-evil theme is also injected into the story through the god Hades, who, contrary to his role in ancient Greek religion (and the Perseus myth, from which he is completely absent, by the way), is made out to be a Satanic figure and the main cause of human suffering—a thoroughly Judeo-Christian-Islamic concept—and (of course!) good triumphs over evil in the end. One should, however, give the film credit for adding a little nuance to this tired theme by concocting the character of a religious fanatic who preaches pious devotion to the gods, haranguing the people to appease them by sacrificing the young maiden Andromeda to the Kraken. Not only does he get his just due (crushed under an avalanche of falling columns during the Kraken’s attack), but we also find that by the end of the movie, Perseus, who had so hated the gods, finally accepts the help of Zeus and is somewhat reconciled with him in the end. Still, this too is a modern notion wholly appropriate to our times rather than to ancient Greece: neither radical liberal atheism nor conservative religious fanaticism are good—moderate devotion is the best way (to get a big audience, that is).

But who in the audience really notices such themes except for pedantic, anal-retentive academics like me? For most people, it’s enough for the film simply to have themes that don’t run contrary to their values—the less noticeable, in fact, the better. The film’s main attraction is its escapist exoticism, action scenes, and special effects, and on those accounts, it’s pretty darned successful. For an old codger like me, I still hold a lot of nostalgia for the Ray Harryhausen stop-action, clay model special effects of 1981’s Clash, but I can’t deny that I enjoyed 2010’s depiction of Perseus’ battles with various and sundry monsters, including giant scorpions, the even more giant, H.R. Giger-inspired, Alien-like Kraken, and, of course, the hideous Medusa (well, not that hideous, actually—she had a pretty hot body . . . if you exclude the snakey tail). I guess I should also mention that we can root for Perseus and his band of merry men against such monsters because we’ve rooted for them in countless other action films, just under different names—the same wise-cracking, fearless assemblage of warriors we’ve seen everywhere from Aliens to 300. When all is said and done, 2010’s Clash of the Titans is a fun film; an enjoyable one-and-a-half hour diversion from the cares of life and nothing more—but that’s all the filmmakers set out to create, and that’s all that most moviegoers require, though some day, I hope we will get more.