Gal Gadot: “My lieyeefe…(beat)…hahsn’t been whutyouproblythinkithahs….(bump-bump-bump-bump)…we ahll have our strahggles.”
Kristin Wiig: “Yehvuhbeeninlohhf?
GG (smiling): “A lohnng time agooh.”
I guess I’m wondering why Chris Pine‘s Steve Trevor character, a mortal in his mid 30s when he ran into Wonder Woman during the first World War and who sorta kinda blew himself up in Act Three…I’m not only wondering how he escaped death, but how come he isn’t at least 105 years old in 1984? Obviously there’s an explanation.
I mostly hated the first Wonder Woman. I was okay with Gadot and Pine’s romantic scenes, but I hated the D.C. Amazonian-destiny-mythology bullshit. I found Robin Wright‘s Antiope and Connie Nielsen‘s Hippolyta irksome, and I couldn’t stand Danny Huston‘s Erich Ludendorff and David Thewlis‘s Ares. Their turgid dialogue, I mean.
Welcome to 1984…to big hair, shoulder pads, no smart phones or iPads, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Reagan in the White House, Huey Lewis and the News‘ “The Heart of Rock & Roll”, shitty 480p TVs, Lionel Richie performing “All Night Long” at the close of the Los Angeles Olympics, etc. Oh, and disco was dead in ’84 — it flourished from ’76 to ’80 or ’81.
I was still the proverbial lad in ’84…no marriage, no kids, driving a beater, living in Beachwood Canyon.