Wonder Woman Is the Superhero (and Film) We Desperately Need
I was prepared to hate Wonder Woman.
The trailers underwhelmed, and Chris Pine always sat firmly at the bottom of the Hollywood Chris hierarchy for me (Hemsworth, Pratt, Evans, and then Pine).
But for two hours and 20 minutes on Monday night, I sat captivated at Wonder Woman's Sydney premiere. And by the time the credits rolled, I was convinced it deserved a Best Picture Oscar nomination.
Literally bouncing in my seat with excitement over what I'd just watched, I turned to my fiancé share the joy – but he scrunched up his face and shook his head.
"The plot was just so unbelievable," he shrugged dismissively.
And as we exited the cinema, I heard one man grumble to his friend, "The first part was OK, I guess. Then it got boring."
Oh, to have seen Wonder Woman in a women-only screening.
You see, men, I have an alarming, possibly earth-shattering, message: Wonder Woman wasn't made specifically for you.
I realise this concept may be difficult to grasp. Men (particularly white men) have grown accustomed to having countless on-screen heroes created in their image. Not just Spider-Man, Batman, Iron Man, Superman, and the like. But GI Joe, Harry Potter, Luke Skywalker, and Peter Pan.
It's a given that outside of niche "girly" genres like romantic comedies and young-adult dramas, men will be given top billing.
And if not top billing, then at least top reward.
Female superheroes of the past – Catwoman, Elektra, and even the Lynda Carter version of Wonder Woman – were designed primarily to recruit and please a male audience. Decoration and eye candy allowed to take centre stage as a novelty act, rather than as authentic icons for young women.
Meanwhile, for all of our advances, millennial women were raised largely on lovesick Disney princesses and secondary female characters presented alternately as pillars of support or temptation in testosterone-driven stories.
Robin Wright; Image: Warner Brothers
But with 2017's Wonder Woman, director Patty Jenkins gives us what no one has before: a major superhero movie directed by a woman.
And on the disastrous heels of DC's Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice and Suicide Squad, she's single-handedly saved an empire.
In fact, this movie is so good, it's convinced me that Chris Pine is, in fact, the best Chris. Let that sink in.
An origin story in the greatest sense, Jenkins' Wonder Woman follows Diana (the immensely talented Gal Gadot), the Amazonian princess who will become Wonder Woman. After she rescues an American pilot named Steve (Pine, sporting an impressive command of turtlenecks and fur-collared jackets), she chooses to leave her utopian matriarchal society and march directly into the horrors of World War I. All with the hopes of saving humanity from the wrath of the god Ares.
But unlike recent Star Wars films that satisfy themselves with a single female protagonist and 15 male supporting roles, Jenkins gives us the full range of womanhood in her female characters. They're strong queens (Diana's mother, played by Connie Nielsen) and defiant warriors (Robin Wright as Antiope). They're bumbling and comedic British ladies (Lucy Davis as Steve's secretary).
And yes, one is a manically evil German chemist (Elena Anaya) plotting to murder innocent civilians with poisonous gas.
The imprint of a female director and crew is everywhere (producer Deborah Snyder has said they tried to hire "as many female members" as possible).
It's in Lindy Hemming's costume design, that sees Diana's armour hugging her body just as a man's would – and yet miraculously managing to yield no heaving cleavage or, under Jenkins' direction, gratuitous up-the-skirt shots.
Men, still go see Wonder Woman. Parents, taken your sons to see Wonder Woman.
Jenkins has said her goal was to create a "badass", but she did far beyond that. Diana is strong and she's feminine. She speaks hundreds of languages and is firm in her convictions. She scissor kicks bad guys and coos at babies.
And her compassion isn't her weakness, but her strength.
I got surprise goosebumps when Diana fell down a stone wall and triumphantly clawed her way back to the top with her own strength.
And when she crossed a battlefield, calmly deflecting machine gun fire with her wrists, tears streamed down my face – not out of sadness or distress at her plight, but born of an unexpected gratitude for this Wonder Woman's mere existence.
That's the thing about representation: Sometimes you don't realise how badly you've been missing it until it's finally there, staring triumphantly back at you.
At the close of the Cannes Film Festival this week, jury member Jessica Chastain passionately discussed the portrayal of female characters in 2017's lineup.
"The one thing I really took away from this experience is how the world views women from the female characters that I saw represented," she said candidly. "And it was quite disturbing to me, to be honest…
"I do hope that when we include more female storytellers we will have more of the women that I recognise in my day-to-day life: one's that are proactive, have their own agencies, don't just react to the men around them. They have their own point of view."
Because Jenkins, sadly, is still a rarity. Just 7 percent of movie and TV directors are women. And men outnumber women nearly five to one in key production roles.
Representation matters.
It matters to the cancer-stricken girl who receives a doll with a matching prosthetic leg. It matters to the Black women empowered by Beyonce'sLemonade.
And it matters to the millions of girls and women who will see themselves and their potential strength in Diana – and in Patty Jenkins.
Wonder Woman opens in Australian cinemas on June 1.
