Wonder Woman

I snuck away from socialising tonight to indulge a guilty pleasure. If you’re going to see a blockbuster, best to immerse yourself in Imax and 3-D, an experience not ready-and-to-hand in my little village in Maine.

I settled into the middle seat – surprisingly sparse turn-out for a Saturday night in Denver – prepared for banality. And there’s cheap thrills a’plenty here, in CG effects and Hollywood schmaltz as well. I can’t imagine Robin Wright felt happy with those faux-Greek war helms – but then again it’s hard to see her as anything other than Claire Underwood.

Gal Gadot, however, inhabits the role of Diana – Artemis, the chaste huntress, sister to Apollo – so charmingly she totally redeems the effort. The clever script allows her both innocence and a few hard-hitting but deft feminist jabs – and gets away with it fully tongue-in-cheek, because after all, it’s a comic book.

(And I loved the hints they drop of a forthcoming collaboration with the Batman. Bring her on.)

It’s worth it to watch her – her command of languages is real, and she has amazing kinetic memory, no matter how many stunt doubles were used. The choreography of the athletic feats is unparalleled, and whatever your orientation, it is a pleasure to see a well-put together woman moving gracefully and with strength through the middle of the action.

Name another movie so commanded by strong women, including the director, and speaking for the feminist cause of peace – who knew what could be done with a lasso and bracelets?