I’ve spent much of the last year writing fantasy scripts based on Celtic mythology. And I've been wondering how the supernatural characters might project godhood.
Stories are built from intention and obstacle, desire and conflict. So what would a god actually want? And how would one help or hinder my protagonist?
Whereas the pagan gods of Norse, Greek, Maori, Celtic etc mythologies carry human traits and remain subject to Fate, the God of the Abrahamic religions interacts with Time whilst existing beyond it. No laws, least of all physics, apply to such a being.
This idea of God wouldn't make a great character in film, except maybe in comedy: when God doesn't take itself too seriously, its omnipotence becomes narratively harmless. E.g. Morgan Freeman in Bruce Almighty or Alanis Morrisette in Dogma.


Here are four theories on godhood, derived from literature, which I find more useful:
1. The Iliad, Homer (8th century BC): godhood means total commitment to the exercise of one's own power, to the fulfilment of one's own nature; it means to be incapable of self-questioning, to consider others only as obstacles.
2. Journey to the West, Wu Cheng'en (16th century): becoming an immortal (ä»™) is a spiritual quest; it means cultivating and refining your essence over centuries, understanding that 'form is emptiness, and emptiness form.'
3. Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny (1967): being a god (in this case, sci-fi humans imitate the Hindu pantheon) means being yourself to such an extent that your passions correspond with the forces of the universe.
4. American Gods, Neil Gaiman (2001): existing as a god means crystallising the concentrated essence of you, harnessing humanity's beliefs and prayers until you become something more than human.
As you can see, morality doesn't come into it: being a god is simply about cultivating power over yourself and others. It's about wreaking your primordial desires upon the world… unrestrained by humanity’s physical and psychological limitations.
What gods has the cinema offered us so far?
There are two main themes. I’m going to lay superhero-god protagonists to the side (e.g. Chris Hemsworth’s Thor and Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman) because they are first and foremost superheroes; god status merely provides their backstory. I won’t discuss ghosts here either, as their provenance is human, not divine. So, we have:
1. Dominant figures who are ruthless in upholding the law, but are easily deceived.
They may be proud and selfish, but by and large they are good, abiding by the rules of human morality. Physically they’re what you’d expect: good-looking, usually white men in good shape. Note the prevalence of British and Irish actors, for gods need to sound ancient, and Americans don’t exactly specialise in archaic language.
Note also the absence of women, an imbalance founded in mythology and hardly redressed in cinema, in which they tend to appear as sidekicks or consorts - if at all.
Clash of the Titans (2010): here, the gods are fuelled by humanity’s worship - they cannot exist without us - a dependence which Hades weaponises to trick Zeus.
The film does well to relay that the Ancient Greeks feared their gods. Hades’ appearance in the first scene is pretty terrifying.
Ralph Fiennes really spreading his wings after Voldemort.
Percy Jackson & The Olympians (2010): Zeus forbids the gods from interacting with their human children in case it leads them to forget their godly responsibilities.
It’s a kids movie and the gods aren’t the focus; their presence fulfils every abandoned child’s dream of noble parenthood - left by necessity, not choice.
Poseidon to Zeus: ‘Omnipotence has blinded you, brother’.
Thor (2011): the original, mythic Odin is not benevolent but ruthless and cunning. Marvel plays it safe with the All-Father, but in the sequel, enraged and grieving,
when asked by Thor: ‘What’s the difference between you and Malekith?’ (the villain), Odin replies: ‘The difference, my son, is that I will win.’
All hail Anthony Hopkins, king of kings.



Immortals (2011): the Greek pantheon’s defining feature was its interference in human affairs, but for narrative convenience, this Zeus insists the opposite.
Gods of Egypt (2016): the worst film here, guilty of horrendous whitewashing and boring CGI fights. But at least its gods are as power-hungry as they should be.
There was a craze for mythology in the early 2010s; this film helped to kill it.


2. Ominous spirits which animate humanity’s relationship with nature.
Relics of ages more terrifying and mysterious than our own, these creatures pursue their own goals in utter disregard for the human consequences - and in that sense, they draw more directly from the gods of myth. Physically they blend human and bestial features, often appearing as humanoids with horns and antlers.
Pan’s Labyrinth (2006): according to the director, the Faun is ‘neither good or evil, like nature … a character there to … shepherd [the protagonist] in her rite of passage, but he has no agenda. He doesn't care if she dies or lives.’
Despite his ambiguities, the Faun (like the patriarchs above) wishes to be obeyed by mortals, and like the Zeus of myth, he lusts after human women.
But the Faun is not the villain: his fairytale aspect is blurred with fascist brutality to suggest that humans are the most nightmarish creatures of all.
The Ritual (2017): the forest-dwelling Jötunn in this film is supposedly the child of Loki (there’s no direct mythic precedent). The Swedish locals worship it as divine.
The Jötunn is sustained by human belief and sacrifice - similar to the deities in Clash of the Titans and American Gods - and it offers long life in return.
Antlers (2021): this monster, inspired by the Wendigo of the Algonquin Native Americans (who barely appear in the film), possesses and devours human flesh.
The point, like in Pan’s Labyrinth, is that mankind is the true monster; the Wendigo kills people as retribution for harming the natural environment.



My fantasy scripts are inspired by both of these themes. I don’t want gods as father figures or action heroes, which are both too familiar and too human.
Nor am I making a horror film, though it will be dark.
I want the spirits in my story - godlike characters - to feel ancient and mysterious, to be human enough that audiences can relate to them, but alien enough that they can appear mythic… existing outside of Our Time.