Wonder women

I’m not an action movie kinda girl, all those transformers and bloodthirsty machines transforming from giant aircraft into giant cockroaches just don’t do it for me. CGI usually just irritates the heck out of me, looks like fancy cartoons. Blue people running around a technicolor forest? Nope.

I was not going to go see “Wonder Woman.” Not even if it might be one of the less idiotic films that’s usually thrust upon us by the Slick Rock Cinema.

But. When I read the reviews and reactions to “Wonder Woman,” including on national op-ed pages, I was intrigued. And my husband was going and my girlfriend was going, so I said what the heck. At least there’d be popcorn. With butter.

You could have knocked me over with a feather or an ornately carved shield because I liked Wonder Woman. A lot. Actually, when my husband leaned over in the middle of the movie and asked, “What do you think?” my exact answer was, “I (unfit for a family newspaper) ing love this!”

They had me from the first shots of gorgeous, strong, fierce women who could fire off an arrow backwards and upside down on a galloping horse. And continued to have me as the Amazons rappelled down cliffs and went woman to man on the beach, the better fighters bested only because the guys of course had lots of guns.

I hadn’t realized how I’d been missing something because I’d never seen it before; an entire civilization, albeit a small one, of women raised without fear and in full feminine power, completely sure of themselves. Not even conscious or caring of how truly beautiful they were.

I love it that Wonder Woman (embodied by actress Gil Gadot, who was five months pregnant while the film was shooting) actually didn’t understand why, when she came into the “real world,” she had to be trapped by a skirt – or pretend she was powerless, though that last part was over quickly enough. And that the pain and evil she saw before her, broke her heart and determined her to fight against impossible odds in service of humanity; to fight hard until the battle was done.

I love it that in the dark night of the soul which each of us experiences one way or another, she was uplifted and inspired by the bravery and courage of the mortal man who supported her and helped her be who she really was, while doing all he could in his own way to save the world.

So ladies, braid your hair, polish your shield, jump on a horse – figuratively or literally – and access your Inner Amazon. Go on and take a chance. Stand up for what you believe in. Do what you’ve been dreaming of and secretly dying to do for 10 years or 10 minutes. Do what you would, if you acted like the best of your most brave self. Do what you’ve dismissed as impossible. Be your own Wonder Woman.

Men, be a hero to your woman, even if it sometimes means putting her first, lifting her up to reach the stars or toward whatever else she believes in, because you’re strong enough and love her enough to do it.

And when you go see “Wonder Woman,” take your kids. Little boys need to see this movie as much as little girls do.

E.J. Gore is a screenwriter and author of “French Lessons, the Art of Living and Loving Well.”

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