Real Talk: Ernest Cline and Problems in Nerdery


I seem to be doing a lot more Real Talks recently, and while that’s definitely a format I enjoy writing in, I wanted to shy away from it a bit more in the next few months. After all, this blog is a place to focus on the glitter in the world, and my Real Talk posts have a tendency to be a bit more on the depressing side. Having said that, I saw something in the last few days that it is so, SO important for me to talk about and raise awareness of that I just had to write this.

As many of you will already know, we have a movie adaptation of the book Ready Player One coming out later this year. I have never read Ready Player One, but I was certainly excited about the movie. Who wouldn’t be with all those awesome nerdy references in the trailer alone!?

But then I saw a post in a Facebook group pointing me toward a poem written by the book’s author Ernest Cline. The poster wanted to make sure the broader community knew about it before seeing the film. I checked it out, and it made me vomit a little in my mouth. It was something written in “praise” of nerd girls, but its misogynistic overtones are obvious to anyone who reads or listens to it. I don’t want to republish the poem without Cline’s permission, and to be honest, I wouldn’t want to put it on my blog anyway, but for those curious to read the whole thing it can be found here (and it should be accompanied by a huge trigger warning for objectifying women, graphic sexuality and misogyny).

The poem is entitled “Epic Nerd Girl Porn”.

It contains the line “They’re objects.” in reference to women who don’t fit Cline’s description of “a real woman”, specifically in porn. The whole poem is pretty much in that vein. It’s absolutely disgusting.

There is a dark side of nerd culture which seems to speak about women that way and to be quite frank, it terrifies me. It doesn’t just terrify me for the women that Cline describes as objects though, it terrifies me for all women (and men who have been in similarly vulnerable situations). You see, in a former relationship, I was the “nerd girl” dating a guy who believed the same type of things that Cline is writing about.

To be fair to myself, I didn’t realise that my ex held those opinions when I started dating him. It took a while for them to come out, just as it took a while for him to start getting angry at me for not being what I apparently seemed to be on the packet. In my limited experience, what Cline and my ex actually mean when they talk about “nerd girls” is a fictional perfect woman who, not only looks perfect but agrees with every nerdy opinion they have, and knows everything about every nerdy thing. I, as someone who isn’t particularly academically intelligent, was simply not good enough so my ex would lose his temper with me, talk over me and call me stupid. He seemed to think of all women in this way, almost like a virgin/whore complex, except it was a nerd-girl/slut complex.

That relationship was so bad I seriously considered cutting myself off from all things nerdy (which I had loved long before the relationship) just to get away from him and some of the people associated with him when it ended. It didn’t help that three of his gaming friends came into my workplace on separate occasions to threaten me and make me feel unsafe. I was SO lucky to have a supportive workplace and incredibly workmates at the time so it never went further than that, but I still have nightmares almost two years later. I worried that all nerd culture was tarnished by men like that who thought it was their right to treat women badly, after all, hadn’t women treated them badly in high school?

At the same time, I happened to start reading and watching a bunch of games journalism and I discovered something wonderful. Those awful, awful people weren’t in charge of nerd culture anymore, in fact, they’re becoming a smaller and smaller part of it, thanks to others standing up to them and calling them out on their bullshit. Slowly but surely, nerds are becoming the accepting community that they were always meant to be. But there’s still a ways to go. Giving a man like Ernest Cline the chance to represent us as nerds of all genders is a step backwards. As much as he claims to, he clearly doesn’t have any respect for women, nerdy or otherwise.  There are better writers and there are better nerds.

I’m not going to end this post with a call to boycott Ready Player One, but instead, I will say: keep yourself informed and let yourself make your own decision. Don’t let him get away with this if you feel it’s wrong just because he’s written a nerdy movie. Gamers are better than this. Nerds are better than this. We are better than this.


Movie: Justice League and why it is everything Age of Ultron should have been

While this review does not contain spoilers for the Justice League movie, it does contain spoilers for previous DC films, including Man of Steel, Batman Vs Superman: Dawn of Justice and Wonder Woman, as well as Marvel’s Age of Ultron. 

I have to admit when it comes to their movies, I much prefer Marvel to DC. Not just because Marvel has a much bigger universe, boasting seventeen films to DC’s five, but because Marvel doesn’t seem to take itself as seriously as DC. As I said in my review of Thor Ragnarok, I have a great appreciation for superhero movies that embrace the over-the-top nature of comics. To be honest, I’d much prefer to watch a silly superhero film like Thor Ragnarok or Guardians of the Galaxy than a serious take on them like Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy (excellent though it is).

Having said that in recent years I have found the lighter tone in Marvel films to border on being callous, particularly in the most recent Avengers film, Age of Ultron. It’s difficult to see superheroes quipping with each other while towns burns and civilians die. It makes them seem uncaring like they are battling the enemy more for their own gratification than to save people. As my partner pointed out recently, in Marvel movies civilians kind of feel like ants. Not so with DC.


At the end of Man of Steel, there is a huge battle between Superman and General Zodd, which involves them punching each other through buildings. It ended pretty much levelling downtown Metropolis and caused a huge amount of controversy among fans. Superman has always taken huge efforts to protect every day people and minimize (if not totally rule out) any civilians casualties, and here he was smashing his way through buildings without a care for anyone those buildings might contain. But DC was able to learn from those mistakes.

Ever since Man of Steel, DC have excelled at showing the human face of the conflict. Batman Versus Superman opens with Bruce Wayne seeing the destruction of Metropolis first hand, including being told by one of his employees that no one left in the building is getting out, they’ve evacuated all they could but it is not enough. It’s probably the best scene in the whole movie in terms of sheer emotional impact, at least in my opinion. Wonder Woman followed suit showing the liberation and consequent destruction of the village of Veld. However, it is Justice League that does it most simply, and probably in the best way.


Justice League shows Batman and Wonder Woman forming an alliance of superhumans (well, superhumans and one rich guy) to fight the monstrous Steppenwolf who seeks to unite the three mother boxes which will turn Earth into one giant hellscape. Early in the film, while elsewhere the Justice League are still teaming up, we are introduced to a Russian family who lives in the shadow of a power plant that has been abandoned after a reactor leak. A power plant that just so happens to be the perfect place for Steppenwolf and his army of flying techno monkeys to use as their base. The film revisits this family again and again as they deal with the destruction of their home, right from the moment of Steppenwolf’s arrival through to the end of the film. We don’t just see the impact on them in the hour of battle, we see them across days while they struggle to stay alive against impossible odds. Deciding to include them as part of the movie was an excellent bit of filmmaking, and is one of the many things that makes Justice League work so well.


Justice League also prioritises minimising the human casualties in the same way people expected the original Man of Steel to. Flash is initially very nervous in battle, so Batman tells him to focus on saving the innocent, to just try and save just one person’s life. Saving human life feels like an important part of the fight in Justice League, rather than being totally secondary to the battle and trading quips with your teammates.

On top of that, Justice League knows when to use its sense of humour. While it doesn’t same the same funny or lighthearted nature of a Marvel film, the humour is still definitely there, just not in the middle of battles where people’s lives are at risk. The Justice League tend to crack their jokes to ease the tension in the quieter moments, which gives the audience more time to enjoy the joke without being whipped to the next bit of the action. It also shows a very human side to the superheroes, after all, who hasn’t cracked a joke at some point to ease the tension when under great stress?


Ultimately, Justice League’s biggest strength is showing off the humanity of its heroes, even the ones who aren’t technically human. They struggle to relate to the world, they make awkward jokes and they treasure the lives of others. They fall in love, are scared of failure and worry about making the wrong decisions. They are imperfect (despite how Gal Gardot and Jason Momoa look). It might be because of the decision to make the DCU a considerably darker than the MCU, but it works really well in this case. DC have given some much-needed shades of grey to a superhero genre that was quickly becoming black and white. It continues the tradition of Wonder Woman in making heroes who are powerful yet fallible and incredibly lovable and that is something to be applauded.

I hope that DC keeps up the pattern of making heroes who care about the little people, and who make mistakes. Hopefully, it will give Marvel a chance to think about the way it uses civilians in its films. I’ll be very interested to see the next couple of efforts from both studios. For the moment at least, it seems like the two competing studios compliment each other by being different, and that makes it a great time to be an audience member.



Also, I’m shocked that anyone pulled off the pretending something is a skateboard/surfboard when it isn’t. Congratulations Jason Momoa! 😛


What did you think of Justice League? Did you enjoy the darker tone, or do you prefer more fun superhero films? Let me know what you think in the comments, on Facebook or Twitter.

Movie: Murder on the Orient Express, and why it’s better to leave some questions unanswered (spoilers)

The small screen seems to constantly be adapting Agatha Christie; there are miniseries, there are seasons upon seasons of Poirot and Miss Marple, there’s even a couple of Doctor Who episodes! The big screen not so much, at least not in the English speaking world (India and France seem to have an enduring love for seeing Poirot on the silver screen). That’s why I was surprised to hear about a Kenneth Branagh adaptation of Murder on the Orient Express in 2015, particularly as Branagh himself would be playing the famed Belgian. In my head, Poirot has always been short, slightly plump and balding. He looked exactly like David Suchet (who played him for 24 years in the ITV series of the same name). Branagh is tall, blonde and has a charm about him that always seems to follow him into any role, it makes for a brilliant actor, but not one that I could imagine happily fitting into Poirot’s precise shoes.


Therein lies a problem.

Murder on the Orient Express is one of the most-loved of the Poirot novels. Not only that, it’s seen many fantastic adaptations over the years, including one in the long-running David Suchet series I previously mentioned. References to it are scattered through literature and television alike. It was likely that most of Murder on the Orient Express’ audience would enter the cinema already knowing the solution to the crime at the centre of the film. The question was, what did the filmmakers want to tell us that was new? What would hold the audience’s interest?

At least part of the answer seemed to be a very hammy interpretation of Poirot both from Michael Green, (the film’s scriptwriter) and from Branagh. It’s an idea that may have worked in an adaptation of another one of the Poirot books, but this is Murder on the Orient Express. The plot discusses the definitions of right and wrong, and what can drive perfectly ordinary people to commit a meticulously-planned murder. It’s not something that’s meant to have a main character who enjoys overacting and eating the scenery for breakfast. By the time Branagh shifts into a more serious mode towards the very end of the film, when the solution has presented itself and he is confronting the murders, it feels like a break in character. He’s taken threats to his life and a murder pretty damn lightly, so it’s somewhat surprising that his character decides to suddenly take things seriously.

It’s particularly disappointing that Branagh’s Poirot is so over-the-top because his supporting cast is absolutely fantastic. Judi Dench, Derek Jacobi, Penelope Cruz and Olivia Coleman show why they are so critically acclaimed in their individual work with ease. Willem Dafoe and Josh Gad both vary between strangely comical, tragic and loathsome. Daisy Ridley is wonderful (as always) in her first outing on the big screen since playing Rey in Force Awakens, and Leslie Odom Jr. who plays her love interest is fantastically conflicted throughout the film. Johnny Depp’s character, being the victim, is only alive for the first quarter of the movie, but he makes the most of it, very quickly showing the audience what a slimeball his character is. All of the supporting cast was amazing, but it was Tom Bateman’s performance as Bouc that I enjoyed the most (although that might be because ever since I saw him in Da Vinci’s Demons, he has been a particular favourite of mine). More often than not, it was his character’s more subtle silliness that got the audience in my cinema laughing, while Poirot’s attempts at slapstick only elicited groans.



But while it didn’t cause such a vocal response, I think there was a bigger problem with the movie: the ending. At the end of the film, Poirot confronts his fellow passengers with the truth: they have all conspired and committed the murder of Samuel Rachett aka Lanfranco Cassetti, the man who ruined the lives of the Armstrong family by kidnapping and killing their two-year-old daughter. These are the people left alive after the subsequent deaths of nearly the whole family trying to get the justice they never received. Poirot then decides to let them go free, as he believes that they need to move on with their lives and that no justice would come from turning them in. He gives the officers coming to collect the body of Rachett at the next station a false solution and heads off to his next case leaving the train behind. It’s all very neatly wrapped up, complete with a bow at the top, however, neither the original book nor the excellent David Suchet adaptation give such a clear-cut conclusion.

It’s certainly implied in the book that Poirot will let the murderers go, by his two offsiders offering to change their testimonies, but it is never explicitly stated. Better still, the Suchet version never reveals what Poirot says to the police, simply that he gives them a key bit of evidence, before walking away in tears, holding his rosary. These endings, in my opinion, are significantly more powerful. Murder on the Orient Express is set in a time where people still were hanged for murder and therefore looks at the idea of what this style of justice is worth. The life of one of these twelve? Two? All of them? The audience is given the same information as Poirot, but then it’s left up to them to decide, having received no answer from the story.



Branagh’s Murder on the Orient Express is significantly less powerful. It simply hands its audience an answer. No amount of dialogue about split souls or whether the twelve murders are “true killers” can bring back the moral discussion this film so miserably fails to have about what is right. Poirot decides that the twelve are justified, so the audience is left with the sense they must have been. It’s disappointing, given how interesting the film could have been.

That’s not to say Murder on the Orient Express isn’t enjoyable, it certainly is. It’s exceptionally cleverly shot, beautifully scored and as I’ve previously said, the supporting cast is amazing. It definitely made for a lovely Sunday morning, but it could have been something more. This could have been a film that engaged me long after I left the cinema as the TV adaptation did before it. I believe, as a filmmaker, that audiences are intelligent and should be allowed to make up their own mind about how they view a film, rather than being told how to think. Hopefully, the next big screen adaptation of a mystery will embrace that too.


I’d love to know what you think! Would you prefer to be to given answers at the end of films or make up your own minds? Which Poirot did you prefer? Let me know in the comments, on Facebook or Twitter.

Movie: Thor Ragnarok, and why it lived up to its trailer

I love movies. I worked at a cinema for three and a bit years. I make short films. In high school, I spent my entire allowance going to the cinema on a Friday night. I. Love. Movies. But, in recent years I found going to the movies a more and more disappointing experience (mostly). Why? Because Hollywood has started consistently putting the only good/memorable bits of each film in its trailer. The trailer for Dark Tower looked pretty amazing and mysterious. The film itself, impressively meh (and it wasted Katheryn Winnick, which is a cardinal sin). The trailer for Atomic Blonde looked insanely kick-ass and amazing. The movie felt like the first film of a freshly graduated film student (and it wasted both James McAvoy AND Charlize Theron, two more sins). The trailer for Thor: Ragnarok looked funny, upbeat and beautiful…



And the film was funnier, more upbeat and more beautiful than the trailer. It was so good to have had a marketing campaign that was based around humour, and then to have the movie actually live up to it!

Having said that, I am aware that, as an Australian, I am smack bang in the middle of the target market, as director Taika Waititi said that a bunch of the humour in the movie was specifically targeted at Australian and New Zealander audiences. That must have at least been partially true because the cinema I went to see the film in roared with laughter for a good two-thirds of the film. It ended up being one of the most special experiences I’ve had in a cinema. It’s rare that I feel so connected to the rest of the audience, particularly as someone who is very self-conscious around their laugh.


The other thing that’s amazing about Thor Ragnarok is how well Waititi has built the humour into the foundations of the film. Marvel films throw out funny lines and have their superheroes quipping at one another, but it is often against a backdrop of a more serious nature; the destruction of a city or the middle of a dangerous chase. It can be somewhat disconcerting and dehumanising when they are seen in their full context, and it makes me feel, as an audience member, that they are only there to help sell the film as part of the trailer.  Thor Ragnarok certainly has a couple of silly lines in serious situations, but they always make sense in the context and never detract from the gravity of the scene.

Not only that, Thor Ragnarok embraces the over the top nature of the comics in a way that rarely happens in superhero movies. It knowingly winks at the audiences, sharing with you that the whole situation is silly without making fun of it. This is a film that contains a creature made out of rock who ended up exiled from his home planet because he didn’t hand out enough pamphlets for his revolution and Jeff Goldblum in sparkly blue eyeliner. There’s really no way to play those things seriously, and yet it doesn’t come across as being dumb either, just wonderfully innocent and playful. There’s nothing in the movie that feels forced, or there purely for the sake of marketing (with the possible exception of the Doctor Strange scene).



In fact, Thor Ragnarok doesn’t feel like a film that was made to be marketed to anyone in particular. It feels like something that was made simply for the joy of it. There’s a freedom about it, which is unsurprising given that an estimated 80% of the dialogue was improvised. Even long-term MCU stars, such as Mark Ruffalo, were concerned that the cast was having too much freedom making this film, and that at some point there was going to be a call coming in to tell the production to reel it back or to start again. The call never came. And not making that call was probably one of the smartest things the marketing department at Marvel has ever done.

Giving Taika Waititi and his cast freedom to improvise and create something different for Thor Ragnarok has enabled them to make a fun, charming and exceptionally funny film, which has drawn audiences all over the world in with its quirky sense of humour. It’s kept all the promises made in its trailers which means people are more likely to watch it again, to tell friends positive things and ultimately be that little bit less sick of superhero films. It doesn’t just live up to its own trailer, it lives up to the promise of the fun, not too serious film that Marvel has been promising us for years and never fully delivering on until now. Let’s hope Marvel keeps taking risks and delivering at the same level into the future.


Did you love Thor Ragnarok? Did you hate it? I’d love to hear other people’s opinions about it. Let me know in the comments, or on Twitter or Facebook.

Movie: Blade Runner 2049, and why it’s what movie sequels should be

Blade Runner is one of those rare films that I’ve studied and still love, which is pretty amazing considering I think I’ve ended up studying it in three different classes across the course of my life. Having said that, when I first started hearing about a Blade Runner sequel in early 2012, I was highly sceptical. Would it recapture the magic? Would it be able to have the same level of philosophy? Would it be convincingly set in the same complex and beautiful world?

My scepticism only grew as the Hollywood remake-and-sequel machine hit its maximum output in the last few years. Every second film seems to be part of a franchise, and so many of them are mediocre. Even films that I’ve loved in the last couple of years (Star Wars: Force Awakens for one) have kind of re-hashed stories that their respective franchises have already covered. It can be fun to watch, but it’s disappointing as an audience member to be watching the same films over and over with different titles, particularly when there is an opportunity to add something different and exciting to an already developed universe.


The idea that Blade Runner 2049 would just be another one of these films cashing in on nostalgia was so disappointing to me that, despite being impressed by trailers that didn’t actually reveal the whole story for once, I wasn’t sure I wanted to watch the film. But by the time the early reviews were out I was convinced. Critics raved about it as they had the first, and more importantly, those who were fans talked of it being a true sequel, “… a film that was worth the 35-year wait..” (Thanks to Scott Collura from IGN for that quote)

So on a balmy Wednesday night, I headed to my local cinema to watch it, and for once, a sequel in no way disappointed me. I was impressed by the original story, stunning visual effects and performances that made me cry multiple times. Everything seems like it’s had a huge amount of effort poured into it in order to create something special, something worthy of its audience. It’s incredible to me that this new film actually managed to build on the story and world of the original because it’s so rare that that properly happens these days.


Blade Runner 2049 adds to the world by taking the story further into the dystopian future. It is set after an android rebellion, where newer, more obedient models (Nexus-9’s) built by the sinister Wallace Corporation, hunt down the Nexus-7 models of the first film. At the heart of the film is Agent K (Ryan Gosling) who hunts down a former medic Nexus-7 (Dave Bautista) who tells him that he is only able to destroy his own kind because he has never seen a miracle. The story picks up from there and focuses on the idea of what makes an individual’s reality more than what makes their humanity, but it contains all the philosophy one would expect from a true Blade Runner sequel. As one of my fellow audience members commented as we left the theatre, “This is deep sci-fi.”

My favourite thing by far about Blade Runner 2049, however, is how it plays with our expectations of how stories are meant to unfold. As audiences we are used to seeing the Legacy Players (to steal a Star Wars term) being rolled out early in sequels, whereas Blade Runner 2049 only shows the audience Deckard in the final third of the movie. As audiences we expect to have similar main characters throughout a franchise but despite sharing the same job Rick Deckard and Agent K could not be more different. As audiences (of blockbusters at least) we expect there to be a limit as to how much emotional pain our lead characters can endure, but Blade Runner 2049 doesn’t shy away from the emotional pain of having your identity shaped and re-shaped by others.


I have heard a lot of criticism among friends that Blade Runner 2049 doesn’t recreate the same story and philosophy that the first film did. It doesn’t have the same questions about what is human and what is android. As I have already mentioned there are fewer questions about humanity. But what good is a sequel, particular of a series of films with its base so strongly set in philosophy, if it takes us over familiar and safe ground? We’ve already discussed what it means to be human brilliantly in Blade Runner, so to expand on that point to talk about the nature of reality and the experience of humanity gives Blade Runner 2049 its own purpose.

Ultimately, it’s this reason that Blade Runner 2049 is such an important sequel; it has it’s own reason for existing, rather than just continuing a story in order to make more money. It raises it’s own issues, without ignoring the ones raised in the first film. It expands both the history and world of the universe without making feel like a new place. I can only hope that we get more sequels of this sort in the future because if we did, I wouldn’t mind the sequel machine quite so much. My fingers are crossed.


I am so curious what other people think of Blade Runner 2049! And sequels in general! Do you agree? Or do you wish the original Blade Runner had been left as a stand alone? Let me know in the comments.

Movie: Wonder Woman, and why it’s brilliant but not perfect

I, and many, many other movie-goers, loved DC and Patty Jenkin’s recent Wonder Woman movie. It was the DC movie we’d all been waiting for, hell, it was the superhero movie we’d all been waiting for. It’s got a kick-ass female hero, two incredible settings (the beautiful Themyscira contrasting with the tragic backdrop of World War One), a female director AND it actually delivers on all its promise


There are problems. Problems that when watching to moving I couldn’t ignore. Problems that distracted me so much that when I left the movie theatre I had to think for a good ten minutes or so about whether I’d actually liked the film (spoiler alert: I loved it). It wasn’t helped by the fact that I saw Wonder Woman quite late in its run, and had been listening to my friends rave about it for weeks. Still, I don’t think I could have not questioned some of the writing choices and the VERY odd casting decision that drags this movie off the instant-top-ten-films pedestal and leaves it stranded somewhere in my top hundred. I’m not saying these issues ruined the movie for me, I’m fairly sure no amount of issues could ruin such a visually and emotionally strong film, but they certainly stick in the mind.


Wonder Woman Poster

Before I get too ahead of myself though, let’s talk about the things that work for Wonder Woman and one of those is definitely the woman herself. I have to admit, I was one of those people who was initially against the casting of Gal Gardot who sported none of Diana Prince’s traditionally curvy stature. I’ll be the first in line for a piece of humble pie. Gardot shines in the role, balancing the innocence, anger, love and comedy of her part perfectly. The performance combined with strong writing and direction gives the audience one of the most tangible superheroes to date, showing a woman who cannot fully comprehend the world she finds herself in but is determined to make a word-changing difference.

Nowhere are the strengths of the movie more brilliantly shown that during the siege, liberation and consequent destruction of the village of Veld in the middle of the film. It shows the horrors of war, the brilliance of a hero who isn’t willing to accept civilian casualties and the consequences of naivety, all within about thirty minutes of screen time. Chris Pine (Captain Steve Trevor), Ewen Bremner (Charlie) and Said Taghmaoui (Sameer) all shine in their supporting roles during this sequence too, showing the effects war has on those caught up fighting it.  The cinematography and score are incredible, creating what is probably my favourite superhero fight in a movie ever as Wonder Woman almost single-handedly frees Veld. Contrast this with the film’s finale and the movie’s issues all too quickly become apparent.

The finale shows Diana facing off against Aries, the god of war, who is not only secretly her half-brother, but who has been disguising himself as Sir Patrick Morgan (David Thewlis), one of the British politicians behind the armistice. As they fight, Captain Trevor and Co are busy in the background blowing up a factory of deadly gas recently invented by Doctor Poison, a German scientist. As a former modern history student, I do love the nod to the armistice having a big role in causing World War Two, but that is where my appreciation of Wonder Woman’s finale begins and end. It seems to drag on and has enough unnecessary explosions to make Michael Bay come at least once, and despite having more talking that there normally would be in the epic finale of a superhero movie, it doesn’t really give Gardot or Pine the chance to emote at all, preferring clichéd lines about love and duty. However all these sins could be forgiven if it weren’t for the biggest problem of all of them, the casting of David Thewlis as Aries.

Don’t get me wrong, I love David Thewlis. He’s my mother’s favourite actor. He has an incredible subtly about him and his performances seem to always hint a deeper layers than are seen onscreen. However, he is not a convincing Greek god, let alone god of war. He just looks weak, and British, and all the things Greek gods aren’t. Sure it makes for him being a surprising villain but once he was revealed my partner and I spent the subsequent fifteen minutes wondering how Diana wasn’t wiping the floor with him, bad CGI armour and all*. It was a very disappointing end to a film that had been incredible up to that moment, and wasn’t helped by a weird present day sequence with Diana jumping of a Parisian rooftop for no apparent reason.

Overall, Wonder Woman was a truly incredible film, but it’s ending felt rushed and kinda ruined the memory I had of the experience. It’s an amazing superhero film, probably the best we have so far, but we can do better. DC? Marvel? It’s up to you now.




*Literally the only shitty CGI in the film, it’s like they wanted us to think he was a terrible villain…