- June 12, 2025
- 11:47 am
In 1981, one of the most surprising and visionary reinterpretations of Western mythological heritage came to life: Ulysses 31, an animated series co-produced by the French DIC Audiovisuel and the Japanese studio TMS Entertainment. This work masterfully blends Homer’s Odyssey with the futuristic aesthetic of the post-Star Wars era, effectively transporting the Achaean hero into a world of starships, cosmic deities, and alien civilizations. The result is not merely a pop reinterpretation of the myth, but a true existential, philosophical, and technological allegory.
Protagonist is Ulysses, commander of the spaceship Odysseus, who is condemned by the gods of Olympus to wander through space alongside his son Telemachus and a small crew of robotic and humanoid companions, after defying the gods to save his comrades from an unjust sacrifice. Ulysses is a man who opposes the higher will, but in this new version, Olympus is no longer a dwelling on a sacred mountain. Instead, it is an impersonal astral superstructure, ruling with cold logic and without empathy.
Ulysses’ crime is placing love and justice above the pre-established order
Although formally designed for a young audience, the series immediately stands out for its mature tone, rarefied atmospheres, and a visual design influenced as much by Greek mythology as by Japanese space opera, Art Deco geometry, and minimalist science fiction. The gods are depicted as entities of light and absolute power, unreachable, speaking in neutral and menacing tones. The monsters are no longer made of flesh and blood, but are intelligent artificial systems, worlds ruled by semi-autonomous AIs, rebellious automatons, beings mutated by science and time.
All this contributes to defining a universe that anticipates the cyber-existential aesthetic of many later anime and films, from Evangelion to The Matrix.
The comparison between the gods of Ulysses 31 and modern artificial intelligences is both evocative and well-founded. The cosmic Olympus of the series behaves like an inaccessible network, capable of observing, punishing, and altering human destiny without offering explanations. In this sense, it becomes a metaphor for the growing delegation of power that contemporary society grants to algorithms and automated systems: search engines, social networks, predictive tools, voice assistants. Ulysses, who fights to maintain an autonomous course and a personal memory, foreshadows the modern individual lost in a sea of data, surrounded by information he no longer controls.
Within the series, the hero prevails through through ingenuity, courage, and memory
His drive to return becomes a metaphor for a deep need for identity and continuity. Moreover, his loyalty to his loved ones, his unbreaking will to protect his son, and his remembrance of Earth all define Ulysses as a symbol of human resistance in a dehumanized world. The contrast is clear: whereas machines speak in monotone and think in terms of efficiency, Ulysses speaks in the name of freedom, error, and compassion.
Furthermore, the aesthetic construction of the universe in Ulysses 31 is highly significant. The settings are cold and geometric, dominated by electric blue, white, and metal. Each planet represents a trial, a moral riddle, and a psychological symbol. Some episodes directly rework Homeric events: for example, the space version of Polyphemus is a gigantic blind robot that imprisons travelers. Even Circe appears as an entity capable of manipulating memories and identities. As in the Odyssey, all these encounters challenge the hero’s will and raise profound questions about the essence of being human.
In addition, technology in this series does not play a redemptive role. It is not a source of linear progress but rather a field of ambiguity. The most advanced tools can serve justice or oppression. Artificial intelligence is neither inherently good nor evil; instead, it reflects the will that drives it or, worse, its absence. In this context, Ulysses is a man of the past hurled into the future. He commands a starship, yet his heart still beats for a lost world — a world that only makes sense if the memory of its humanity is preserved.
From a contemporary perspective, this vision becomes prophetic
Today, we find ourselves immersed in a digital revolution that risks severing the threads of symbolic continuity. Culture, history, physicality, and language are reformatted in the name of efficiency. In this artificial sea, the figure of Ulysses is more relevant than ever. He represents the individual who stubbornly seeks the path home, not to a physical place, but to an inner truth, a coherence with one’s past and vocation.
Ulysses 31 is therefore much more than a creative remake
It is a manifesto of postmodern anxiety, an animated philosophy that raises important questions about freedom, identity, and the ethics of technology. Just as Homer’s Ulysses once challenged Poseidon to return to Ithaca, today humanity faces new storms: omnipresent artificial intelligences, opaque surveillance systems, and illusions of connection. The question remains: where are we returning to? And what awaits us at the end of the journey?
As the saying goes, “It is not power that makes us human, but memory. Not the speed at which we travel, but our return.”
In an age where everything accelerates, Ulysses 31 invites us to slow down, to think, and to remember. Because without memory, there is no identity. And without identity, there is no true freedom.