I live in the desert to lessen human noise (as noted I'm a telepath), but sometimes that noise is focused in a way that forces me to listen. Former FBI Director James Comey's recent testimony produced such focused noise. I would have given-in and listened ad nauseum but I'm frustrated by the public assumption, abetted by the media, that the hearings and subsequent investigation might result in President Trump's downfall. You don't have to be a psychic to know that no downfall is imminent, that the hearings will be forgotten at the first national emergency and obscured ever after.
Still, it's hard to escape such "news"-induced mental tsunamis. One night I needed something else to think about, and I found it in the new movie Wonder Woman, presented by some reviewers as a feminist vision to counteract the current male resurgence. I had planned to see it at the Cinemark 22 in Lancaster, close to home, but my friend Doug called to see if I'd like to go with him and his wife Susan to the Edwards Stadium 6 in Calabasas, a white enclave in the rolling hills northwest of the melting pot of the San Fernando Valley. I jumped at the chance for human society and a break from the importunings of my psychic animal friends (see previous posts), and last night drove 67 miles from Pearblossom to Calabasas.
On the way I abandoned my hesitations and listened to NPR analysis of Comey's testimony- and found the same insidious suggestion that this story might end in something gratifying. Trump's statements to Comey about dropping charges against Michael Flynn (the "smoking gun") are apparently not recorded. There is no paper evidence, no other witness. It's Comey's word against Trump's, which means end of story, no downfall this time. [Postscript, 7/18/17: Donald Trump Jr. and others may be sacrificed, but the President has created a safe personal bubble.]
In a lame show of freedom from media, I announced, "I'm done with this shit!" and turned off the radio just as I entered the parking lot of the Calabasas Commons, an upscale open-air mall that is actually quite pleasant though it looks like an Italian village re-dreamed by Disney and has speakers hidden in bushes that play, night and day (so to speak) only songs by the Rat Pack (Rick Caruso, are you listening?).
I parked as close to the theater as I could, which was fairly close because it was a Wednesday night and local high schools had a few days to go before the summer shut-down. There was a long line next to the theater where people were waiting for free ice cream at a newly opened Jeni's, and it was there I spotted Doug and Susan, engaged in their decades long debate about whether a long line is ever worth waiting in, Doug feeling not, Susan believing that good things come to those who wait.
I waited with them and, lo and behold, a good thing, in the form of creamy, sweet ice cream, came to us, albeit on tiny plastic spoons.
"Someone remind me why we're seeing Wonder Woman," said Doug, who generally preempts my role as curmudgeon when we're together.
"Because it's there," explained Susan.
"And because it's a distraction from the Comey waste of time," I added, to reaffirm my credentials as a malcontent.
We bought tickets and entered the faux-palace, finding plush, reclining seats in the three-fourths filled auditorium. I held down a button on my armrest and the seat moved horizontally until I was nearly supine. It was not the most comfortable position for watching the screen, but I felt only the far setting would give me my money's worth.
Wonder Woman can be described as a series of action scenes surrounding lingering shots of actress Gal Gadot’s pretty face. We were struck by the smart casting of this soft and hard looking woman to kick the crap out of many men (to be fair, she kicks the crap out of one woman, the weird Dr. Poison). Gadot's Israeli identity has given the film a political dimension, and some are scouring it for Zionist meaning. I looked for something, but unless women are Hebrews and men are Canaanites, or vice versa- either a stretch- I'm not seeing it.
Gadot was credible in the role and a strong choice, giving some depth to an otherwise ridiculous and lazy film. It opens with a fantastical CGI city, carved into the mountains of a hidden island, where an all-female society known as the Amazons lives. There are few biological details, but we get the impression that the women do not reproduce and are immortal. The exception, and the only child on the island, is eight-year-old Diana (young Wonder Woman), who was created by Zeus back in the day.
A note on Zeus: even though he was a notorious male chauvinist and serial rapist, Zeus was apparently in the Amazons' court, defending them from the evil and ultra-male God of War, Aries, by making the Amazons' island invisible and by creating the super-warrior Diana. For these signs of support, Zeus' rap sheet is forgotten.
Viewers expecting moral clarity in the movie for depicting women as a force for peace and nurturing, and men as a force for brutality and war, may be confused by the Amazon culture, in which women continually train for battle against a hypothetical male army that will arise when Aries wakes up from an assumed dormancy (Diana learns when she arrives, fully grown suddenly, on the French front in World War I, that Aries has been anything but dormant).
Back to the idyllic island: Beautiful women smile and gaze at one another as they perfect man-killing arrows and magic cords that force men to tell the truth. Everyone is in harmony with nature except, as noted, little Diana, who drives her elders crazy by wanting to practice warfare all the time. Derivative and tedious dialogue reveals that Diana's mother wants to protect her from her warrior fate by not telling her the truth, that Zeus created Diana to be a "god killer" whose destiny is to kill Aries, so that there will be no more war and the Amazons can go back to designing lethal weapons and perhaps quilting.
To recap: In Wonder Woman, men represent the murderous, destructive instincts. Women represent, well...I guess the opposite, somehow. Since the Amazons are obsessed by war and don't reproduce- even Diana's interest in having babies is nil- you have to wonder what the contrast is.
More symbolism: The only way Diana can kill Aries is with a magic sword designed by Zeus, giving us a story in which a woman must use a phallic symbol to kill a man. I'm not complaining about the symbolism; I'm just asking: What does it mean? You'd think a true feminist story would entail a heroine killing a man with a symbolic vagina- maybe whacking Aries over the head with one of Judy Chicago's ceramic vulvas.
On the drive home I absently turned on the radio and got an unpleasant dose of Comey- commentary. I punched channel buttons furiously until I found the Pretenders' My city was gone. Listening to the soothing mantra, I thought about the similarity between the Comey hearings and Wonder Woman. Like the movie, the hearings do not answer the questions they are supposed to answer.
In the case of the hearings, there is especially one unanswered question: What do the hearings have to do with getting rid of Trump? The Watergate era, when there were countervailing forces from federal branches other than the executive, seems over, at least for the President. He need only wait for the first distracting national emergency to get off scot-free.
What of Wonder Woman and feminism? The biological sciences will soon give us the ability to turn both femininity and masculinity into anything we want them to be. If we're going to make educated decisions about that, we probably should look more realistically at what it means to be male and female. Hopefully we won't be burdened with too much Hollywood schlock on the subject.