I don’t feel any great need to apologize for allowing myself to be captivated by any form of media. I remember watching the old “Adventures of Superman” TV show with awe and wonder. I didn’t understand it completely, but there was something magical about seeing and hearing that beloved opening.
“…who fights a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way…” Those words were magic to me then and now. They mean something.
And years later, when Superman was reborn in “Superman – The Movie” I had to come to terms with a terrible reality: I would never actually become Superman. No one would.
This sounds trivial and silly. It wasn’t trivial and silly to me. It hurt and it changed my life.
It was a hard part of growing up, of leaving behind some of my childhood.
But I never gave up on the idea of the hero, the savior, the protector. I never will.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually expect anyone to magically or by using superhuman abilities to protect me.
But I do cling to the fundamental belief that there is a hero in all of us. There is some part of us that strives to do the right thing against all odds.
And that is why I love Wonder Woman. I’m not going to argue film technique or the particulars of what does and does not make a great film.
I’m going with my heart on this one. And Wonder Woman made my heart sing. It moved me to tears again and again. It filled me with the same childish innocent joy and hope I felt when I watched George Reeves fly across the screen and save the day.
It allowed me to, without reservation or hesitation, believe that there are great, good gods in the world and they are looking out for me.
And I want to believe that. A part of me needs to believe that.
I believe in you Diana. I believe in you Kal-El.
I will always believe.