By Beth McCabe
Long before Hollywood started letting Charlize Theron, Zoe Saldana, Emily Blunt, Gal Gadot et. al. play kick-ass roles, little girls dreamed of power.
When I was growing up, comic book heroes were male. Heck, everyone of consequence in our world was male. Publishers tried to get us to buy Supergirl and Batgirl, but we weren’t stupid. We knew they were just bratty kid sisters.
We shrugged, accepted our sorry lot in life, and bought a Superman. Or an Archie. But those of us lucky enough to get our sticky little hands on Diana Prince and the Amazons found a hero of our own with awesome power, strength, and heart.
(Note for purists: although the original WW was introduced almost two decades before BG and SG, my introduction to her was the WW reboot around the same time the latter two appeared.)
Lynda Carter’s TV series portrayal doesn’t get enough credit. It was cool. But it took a really long time, and a director of the female persuasion, Patty Jenkins, for our hero to make it to the big screen.
So I got seriously pissed when Director James Cameron (Avatar, Terminator) disrespected the movie. This was personal.
Read the full article at Luna Station Quarterly.
Diane Morrison 