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mandoalorian · 3 years

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I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Twelve: Family

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: THE FINAL CHAPTER! very emotional, new beginnings, bullying mention, poverty mention, abuse mention, allusions to pregnancy.

Word count: 3000>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED.

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Twelve - Epilogue [coming soon!]

“I don’t know if I could do it,” Maxwell sighed, pacing around in anxious circles. He looked different, in his denim jeans and khaki-green cable knit sweater. It made a change from the oversized powersuits he once donned. Alistair was sat at the dining room table, colouring in, and Max was having a nervous breakdown about getting his haircut. “I’ve had the blonde in for so long.”

You smiled, running your fingers through his shaggy and unstyled hair. When it wasn’t perfectly coiffed, it was wavy and glossy, and smelled distinctly like the freshest green apples. “It’ll be okay. Think of it as washing away all the terrible things that went on in the past and starting anew. Like… turning over a new leaf.”

You made a very good point. Maxwell knew he had to suck it up and just do it. It would be okay. He didn’t have to be Max Lord anymore, and he didn’t have this television persona to live up to. His main focus now was just being a father, and that’s all that mattered. All he needed to be, was himself. Maxwell Lorenzano.

“Daddy look!” Alistair smiled, waving around the piece of paper he’d spent the morning drawing on. It was stained slightly from his breakfast, and crinkled in the corners for where he’d applied slightly too much pressure when colouring, but all-in-all, it was perfect. Maxwell took the artwork and looked closely at it. Another typical family portrait of you, Alistair and Max. But this time, Maxwell was doting brown hair, and it reminded him of his younger days when he was first starting out as a businessman. “This is how you’ll look when you come home from the salon!”

“Wow Alistair, I love it!” Maxwell praised, unable to contain his grin. He held the portrait to his face and showed it off. “What do you think?” he asked you. “Do you think I’ll look good with the brown hair?”

You giggled and nodded your head, before pressing the palm of your hand flat against Maxwell’s chest and brushing your lips against his. “You’ll look so handsome, I’m sure.”

“Ew!” Alistair cried, pulling the paper from his father’s hand as you kissed him softly on the lips. The curve of Max’s nose nudged against yours and he laughed at his son’s reaction.

“Alright,” you said, pointing your finger. “You better go. Don’t want to miss your appointment.”

Maxwell nodded and took a deep breath. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” he announced.

The second Maxwell left the house, your stomach began to twist. You’d been living at Lord manor for a month now but truthfully, it felt like a lifetime. It felt like you had always been there. You were adjusting to your new life pretty well, but this morning sickness that you had started to get was an unwelcome experience. Amazon’s never got ill, so this was brand new to you, and you weren’t enjoying it one bit.

You rubbed your stomach and took a sip of the glass of water that you’d been nursing. Sliding down to sit next to Alistair, you watched as he finished his drawing, adding a few final perfections. Once it was done, you hung it to the refrigerator and praised him for his hard work.

“Ali, why don’t you grab your shoes and we’ll have a walk down to the Smithsonian?” you smiled, grabbing your jacket that was hanging over the kitchen door.

“Ooh! Is there a new exhibition?” He enquired curiously, hopping onto his feet and fastening his shoe laces.

“I don’t think so,” you admitted sheepishly. “I have to go meet with some friends.”

Taking the bus was a new experience for both you and Alistair. Joe, Maxwell’s driver, would normally drive Alistair around to and from places. But not today. The bus was slightly smelly and the seats were sticky, but by the looks of it, Alistair was having the time of his life. He pointed out the window, grinning, and talked to you about all the different D.C. landmarks the both of you passed as you were driven into the city centre. He might have only been six years old, but that was six years of living in the world of man. You’d only been here for a month, and so Alistair could teach you a lot.

Driving past the park, Alistair gasped, and shuffled into your body. “That’s the park where we first met,” Alistair pointed. You narrowed your eyes as you took in the sight of tall green trees and shrubbery. He was right. “Do you remember that day? You were wearing an awesome superhero costume like something out of my comic books. And you wore a tiara, and I asked if you were a princess. And you scared my bullies away, and helped me look for dad.”

“I remember.” you smiled, ruffling Alistair’s dark hair.

You remembered asking Alistair what his father looked like, and the only thing the boy could say was ‘strong, cool, and the best dad in the world’. Counting your lucky stars, you were so thankful you had found your forever family. You had come so far from that moment.

“Did you ever tell daddy… about those bullies in the park?” Alistair asked you hesitantly, his voice suddenly small and timid.

You pulled off him and looked him in the eyes. “No. Why?”

Alistair paused for a moment and glanced back out the window. “I was afraid he’d be disappointed in me.”

Your heart shattered in your chest. “Ali,” you said quietly, tears threatening to prick your eyes. “Your father could never, ever be disappointed in you. You know that, yes?”

Alistair nodded his head silently.

“He loves you so much,” you continued. “And the whole bullying thing… I think he’d understand better than anyone else.”

You remembered all the visions you had of Maxwell, even seeing him as a child at one point. You remembered him wearing rugged clothes that were too small for him and how he was picked on for his broken shoes.

“Really? You think so?” Alistair asked.

“I know so,” you confirmed, pressing a kiss into Alistair’s hair. “Those bullies will never amount to anything if they continue doing what they’re doing. But you are so much better than them. Stronger. Your power lies in your heart, and in the truth, and in love.”

Alistair smiled. “You’re a real hero, aren’t you?”

“We’re all heroes.”

————

Yourself, Maxwell and Alistair loved trips to the Smithsonian. Diana always organised special access for the three of you, to go after hours when the entire museum was empty. Alistair was admiring the fish in the aquarium, when you noticed Barbara and Diana, and waved them over.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Diana smiled.

“It was sort of an impulse thing,” you explained. “Uhm, actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

You pulled Diana to one side and left Barbara with Alistair. “Remember how you said ‘I owe you one’, since I like… got your girlfriend to renounce her wish and kinda helped you save the world by destroying the second dreamstone?” you grinned, trying to hold back a laugh.

Diana rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “What are you plotting?”

“Max has been… worried, to say the least. We’re going to have to sell Black Gold and it’s a real shame because-- he worked so hard on it. We have some money and well, I haven’t exactly ran this by him yet but I was thinking about investing what we do have into the Smithsonian. Just like what Maxwell promised to do in the first place.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Diana sighed. “The gemology department is doing just fine.”

You shook your head, your smile only growing. “No Di, that’s not what I was getting at. How would you feel about… expanding the gemology department?”

“I’m not quite sure I follow…”

“I’ve heard Barbara talk about how there’s a lack of space to facilitate all the rocks and stones the Smithsonian keeps bringing in. She has a real fear that the entire paleontology department could be shut down and replaced with something else.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

“That’s true…”

“So what if we use the Black Gold building as an extension for the Smithsonian, and have it specialise in all these fancy rocks and gems and stones. We could transport everything over and then we could utilize the leftover funds that Maxwell has, to keep all the palaeontologists and geologists employed. Hell, with a whole new building, we could even create more jobs for people. It would also mean that we wouldn’t have to fire Max’s old employees and-- Oh Di, I just know Max would love it. He really does have a passion for gemology. And his son, Ali… he has an interest too.”

“So I heard,” Diana rolled her eyes, but, to be frank, she liked what you were getting at. An expansion wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing… “It’s a big responsibility though, and it seems you haven’t even spoken to Maxwell about it. You would get funding from the Smithsonian as an institution, yes, but… it would still be Max’s business. Do you really think he could handle that? After what happened to his last business?”

“He’s smart,” you assured her. “And he’s a good businessman. He knows all these things I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Last time he just got unlucky. But this, this could really be something great. We have the building, and the passion, and enough money to get started. Please Diana… I know you could make this happen. Please.”

Diana spent a moment pondering the possibilities before shrugging her shoulders in defeat. “Alright,” She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

You grinned and squealed excitedly, wrapping your arms around your half sister and squeezing her tight. “Thank you Di!” She laughed and rubbed your back before you pulled off her. “Oh, and Di… there’s one more thing.”

Diana tilted her head and gazed at you with fresh bewilderment. Looking around the museum to make sure no one was around to hear what you had to say, you leaned into the Amazon and whispered a confession you’d been keeping to yourself for the past month.

————

Maxwell sat in the chair and frowned upon seeing his reflection in the mirror. “What can I do for you?” asked the stylist as she smacked her lips on a piece of gum. Max wasn’t sure if he could really bring himself to do this, until he remembered your words. This was ‘turning over a new leaf’-- a new start and fresh beginnings.

“Uh, a trim please,” Maxwell requested before taking a shaky exhale. It was now or never, he just had to take the leap. “No, that’s not everything,” he sighed. “Could you perhaps take the blonde… out of my hair?” The question left his lips with an air of unsurity. Could one even do that? Take the colour out of hair?

“You want the colour stripped?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. Maxwell supposed that was one way of putting it.

“Yes, I do.” he confirmed.

The stylist processed Maxwell’s words for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “As you wish.”

As the stylist wrapped Max’s shaggy golden locks into foil, he closed his eyes. He’d come so far since the whole dreamstone debacle. His whole life had been a rollercoaster of up and down events but now, finally, things were evening out for him -- in the best way possible. He’d fallen in love and secured his family and home. The only thing he was mildly worried about, was the issue with Black Gold. But he knew that he’d somehow figure it out, especially now that he had you by his side to help him.

He’d always seen himself as an independent man. He fought hard to be as successful. He escaped his hometown, his abusive father, he ran away from poverty and was discriminated against by upper class white businessmen who told him he could never amount to anything. He proved all of them wrong. Because now, he had everything he could ever want. He didn’t need stacks of money or material possessions when he had you and Alistair. Maybe he wasn’t as independent as he once thought he was. Maybe, just maybe, he liked the company of others. He liked having you and his son around.

In his fight for wealth and success, he’d lost everything that mattered the most. But most importantly, he had lost himself. Maxwell swore that he’d never let that happen again.

As the stylist removed the silver foil from his hair, Maxwell nervously anticipated the result. His once bottle blonde hair was now a chocolate brown colour, and it reminded him distinctly of his youth. Max couldn’t help but feel like he looked younger, and he wasn’t going to complain about that.

He just hoped you liked it as much as he did.

————

“I just don’t understand why mommy is taking so long,” Alistair grumbled as he and Barbara waited outside the ladies restroom. “And why did auntie Diana have to go into the toilet with her?”

Barbara stifled a laugh. “You’re inpatient, just like your dad.”

Impatience must’ve run in the family because you were sitting on the toilet seat, tapping your food as anxiety flooded your body. You didn’t expect to be this nervous. You’d wanted a child for so long -- in fact, your whole life to be exact. But now that there was a chance of it actually happening, you were beyond terrified. Maybe it was the fact Maxwell didn’t know about your symptoms, but you knew better than to feel alone. You were never going to be alone.

“How long left?” you asked Diana, who checked her wristwatch. It was an antique from the early 1900’s, something very special and something she kept very close to her heart.

“It should be ready now.” she told you, handing you the stick you had just peed on.

“I don’t want to look.” you squirmed, covering your face with your hands.

“Wow,” Diana hummed, her jaw parting slightly when she took in the results.

“Wh-- what is it?” you asked, nervously.

“You’re pregnant.”

————

When Maxwell came home, you were shocked to say the least. His brown hair was absolutely gorgeous, and it suited him better than you’d expected. The deep shade was identical to the colour in his sparkling eyes. Jokingly, he tossed his hair and you let out a laugh.

“I was right,” you giggled, running your fingers through his locks. “So handsome.”

“I love it daddy!” Alistair cheered.

“Thanks buddy,” Maxwell grinned. “I like it too.”

Taking a deep breath, you took Max’s hand and pulled him into the living room, shutting the door behind you. It was quiet in there -- the perfect place to tell Maxwell your news. It had been a nostalgic day, and even standing in the living room reminded you of the time Max first brought you home.

“Is everything alright?” he asked you, slightly concerned. But your warm smile soon eased him. You felt the need to wrap your arms around him and envelop him into a hug. Max had taken a big step today, and you were proud of him, but now it was your moment. It was now or never.

Harnessing every ounce of confidence within you, you took his hands and looked him in the eye. “Max, I’m pregnant.”

Max’s brown eyes widened and he was completely lost for words. “I-- you-- you’re--”

“Yes.” you smiled, taking his hands and placing them on your stomach.

His shocked expression turned into an elated grin as he processed the good news. “You’re really--”

“I am.” you confirmed.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen Maxwell so happy in your life. He wrapped his arms around you and held you so tight, like he was afraid to let you go. He swore in that moment he would never leave you, or his growing family, ever again.

This was it for him.

This was the start of Maxwell Lorenzano’s new life.

————

THE END.

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Author’s Note: “I won’t cry” she says while sobbing into her Google Docs document. Thank you all for reading I Believe In Love. It’s a story I have wanted to share with you since I saw WW84 in the theatre, and I just can’t believe it’s finally over. This fic will always have a special place in my heart. The themes and plot points mean so much to me, but not only that, I’ve had the most amazing feedback on this fic and I will honestly cherish that for the rest of my life. I poured my heart and soul into writing I Believe In Love and it honestly one of my biggest comforts. I want you all to know that an epilogue is coming and if you have any requests for these characters I have created, feel free to send them my way. I adore my Amazon Goddess!Reader and I would absolutely love to continue their story at some point in the future. If you’ve followed me on this journey over the past four months, all I can really say is thank you. I love you so so much.

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#maxwell lord #max lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84 #pedro pascal smut #ibil

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dweemeister · 3 years

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NOTE: This is the second film released theatrically during the COVID-19 pandemic that I am reviewing – I saw Wonder Woman 1984 at the Regency Theatres Directors Cut Cinema’s drive-in operation in Laguna Niguel, California. Because moviegoing carries risks at this time, please remember to follow health and safety guidelines as outlined by your local, regional, and national health officials.

Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)

It took decades for a female superhero movie to make a lasting cultural impact. The honor fell to Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman (2017) – no matter what you think of it, the film dispelled any perceptions that a female-driven superhero movie could never be a cinematic phenomenon. Jenkins returns, as does Gal Gadot as Diana Prince/Wonder Woman and Chris Pine, in Wonder Woman 1984. This sequel is at its best when not proclaiming to the audience its self-importance – an aspect commonly found in and that plagues the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) – and, unfortunately, its poor screenplay oscillates between a flighty romp and superheroic maximalism. For Patty Jenkins, whose filmography is regrettably small mostly due to the lack of opportunities afforded to women directors, she could not have envisioned Wonder Woman’s success, nor the impossible expectations put upon her to surpass the first film. As it is, WW84 is an entertaining, if troubled sophomore effort.

Seven decades after we saw her in the first film and after a prologue during her childhood on Themyscira, Diana Prince (Gadot; Lilly Aspell as young Diana) is working as a restorationist at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C. In her off hours, she performs the occasional heroic act as Wonder Woman. One of the newest hires is gemologist Barbara Ann Minerva (Kristen Wiig). Diana and Barbara, from an FBI request, identify a stolen artifact as the Dreamstone – a gem that, according to legend, has the power to grant a person one wish. On accident, Diana wishes for her long-dead lover Steve Trevor (Pine) to come back to life; envious of Diana’s looks and wallowing in self-pity, Barbara off-handedly wishes to be like Diana. Both wishes come true, but in ways profaning the literal meanings of the respective wishes. For Barbara, this means a transformation into one of Wonder Woman’s archnemeses, Cheetah. Elsewhere in D.C., struggling television infomercial pitchman Max Lord (Pedro Pascal) wishes to procure the stone to revive his flagging business.

Robin Wright and Connie Nielsen are barely in the film as Antiope and Hippolyta, respectively. Lynda Carter, who played Diana on the ABC television series Wonder Woman from 1976-1979, has a self-aware moment which will delight fans.

1980s American culture is the nostalgic fixation at this moment in popular culture (with the march of time, each decade seems to be beholden to its own moment of nostalgic media cycles). Think of television shows like Stranger Things; movies like Adventureland (2009) and It (2017). The generation that came of age during Reagan’s America grew up in a time where the veneer of the Soviet-backed Eastern bloc was crumbling from within, and where Reaganomics spurred prevalent materialism and indulgence. Unadulterated greed and desire are in every corner of WW84 – from the terrible attempts at flirting with Diana and Barbara that easily qualifies as harassment, the difficulty in renouncing wishes on the Dreamstone, Max Lord’s inability to balance his business commitments in order to make time for his son, Alistair (Lucian Perez). WW84 captures this consumerist, entitled attitude throughout, and remarks on how corrosive this mindset is. Admittedly, it is simple messaging from the screenwriting team – Jenkins; Geoff Johns (a DC Comics writer and producer for comics, television, and film since 2000); and Dave Callaham (2014’s Godzilla, 2019’s Zombieland: Double Tap) – but they never contradict that central message.

WW84 progresses to its hackneyed, natural conclusion. But along the way, the screenplay is bogged down in the havoc that ensues from fulfilled wishes via the Dreamstone. The film’s impressive, animated start cannot build on its own momentum when – after the fulfillment of Barbara’s wish – it begins to clearly delineate its time between Diana/Steve, Barbara, and Max Lord. In their respective thirds of WW84, each character learns more about their granted wishes and the Dreamstone’s nature. The set-up for each third follows the same process: a monologue dripping with disappointment with their life directions, confusion in discovering their wish becoming true, and the exultation of their wild imagination defying all sense of reality. WW84 cannot help itself slathering on the foreshadowing and the repetitive narrative structure. The screenplay’s sins are compounded by the screenwriters’ inability to properly and consistently define the limitations of the Dreamstone’s powers – leading to expositional dumps occurring in the movie well past their welcome. As morbidly entertaining as watching humanity run amok with half-baked and ill-considered wishes is (credit to whoever choreographed the third act’s mass chaos), WW84’s unpolished storytelling leaves behind a somewhat befuddling mess.

The movie’s relative lightness in its opening two acts, though entertaining, throws away Diana’s characterization of a solitary, somewhat maternal protective figure in favor of a decades-long yearning for Steve. Are we really to believe that she has spent every waking moment since World War I pining – no pun intended – for someone she knew for probably less than a month? Whatever chemistry Gadot (whose performance as Diana remains at a laudable standard) and Pine had in the first film has evaporated into a labored dynamic in WW84, and she is too quickly is prepared to leave behind her life as museum preservationist by day/superhero-if-not-by-night-then-during-non-working-hours for him. Her behavior concerning Steve – and this is not even mentioning the ethically murky fact that Steve’s soul inhabits the body of a male stranger for the entirety of his resurrection – does not square with any notion of human growth, especially as most of the twentieth century has passed Diana by.

Putting aside the amusing transformation of Barbara from a bookish, clumsy gemologist to an unspectacled femme fatale, the emergence of not one, but two, villains weakens the characterizations, motivations, and portrayals of both. Thus, WW84 spends less time sympathizing with Barbara’s status as a social outcast, so too the relationship between Max Lord and his forgiving – at film’s end, at least – son (the only aspect of Lord’s life that exists outside work). The film’s divided attention between Barbara and Max Lord assures that their concluding actions become too cartoonish, depthless. It’s not that I am demanding that WW84 (or any superhero movie) should provide brooding, soliloquizing philosopher-poets for a villain. Far from it, especially when noting what the likes of Christopher Nolan and, more recently (and exasperatingly), Zack Snyder have offered in their interpretations of D.C. Comics characters’ mythos. Instead, Barbara and Max Lord become caricatures, rather than fully realized, flawed individuals who retain strands of their goodness even as their actions plunge them into villainy.

Though lacking a moment matching the brilliance of Wonder Woman’s entrance into No Man’s Land from the first film, WW84 contains its share of pulsating combat scenes. Cheetah’s debut during a confrontation at the White House is crisply edited by Richard Pearson (2004’s The Bourne Supremacy, 2006’s United 93) and shot by Matthew Jensen (Wonder Woman). The fight, unlike so many littering action movies nowadays, makes geometric sense of who is doing what and where. This collaboration of cinematographer and editor reaches its peak with a vehicular fight in Egypt that resembles something out of an Indiana Jones movie (minus the comedy that usually occurs during an Indiana Jones vehicular fight). It is a wonderfully choreographed scene, but one mired in its poor depiction of the Egyptians involved. WW84 concludes with a dud of a fight. This is not because of terrible CGI, or the revelation that their mothers share the same name. Instead, it is the lack of lighting that destroys this moment. The final fight between Wonder Woman and Cheetah is so poorly lit that the combat becomes an amalgam of flailing limbs and incomprehensible movement. Cheetah, who by this point appears as if she wandered off the set of Tom Hooper’s Cats (2019), appears to be nothing more than a ball of spotted fur. It is a disappointing end to an erratic sequel.

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Longtime readers know that I have pilloried composer Hans Zimmer again and again for dispensing with melodies and for relying too heavily on ostinatos, electronics, and musical texture on his recent film scores. I’m a simple person with certain biases: as a classically-trained amateur pianist-violinist, I prefer scores that have musical interest within and outside the context of a film (would I enjoy playing this score in an orchestra and listening to it in a concert setting?). The worst of his imitators and colleagues at Remote Control Productions are on a train to my musical shit list. His score to Wonder Woman 1984 is a rare bright spot (aside from maybe his work in the Kung Fu Panda series) in a decade marked by excess. The film opens with “Themyscira” – a synth-y prelude quoting Wonder Woman’s motif, but one that blossoms into orchestral triumphalism. This cue crescendos from 0:27 to 1:11 on the back of string ostinatos, regal brass, and chorus chanting pianissimo. The orchestra and chorus explode to life at 1:11 in a majestic, ascending melody celebrating the joys of Amazonian life on Themyscira. A hummable, singable melody in a 2020s Hans Zimmer score? Yes! Alongside Wonder Woman’s now-iconic electric cello motif, Zimmer has composed a secondary motif for her beginning at 1:53 in “Themyscira” (and which eclipses the electric cello motif in terms of appearances in the score). Another throwback occurs during the cue “1984”, a jubilant cycling of rhythmic melodies that could easily been in a 1980s film scored by Alan Silvestri, perhaps even younger Zimmer himself. Even when Zimmer is introducing villainous motifs or the motif for the Dreamstone, his contemporary obsession for droning synth is tempered by ostinatos in the strings and winds, rather than ear-splitting percussion.

Zimmer’s love theme for Diana and Steve is “Wish We Had More Time” – and I cannot recall the last time the composer brought forth such affecting romantic music. A languid melody led by strings speaks to Diana’s longing – however one may disapprove of it – in ways reminiscent, but still inferior to, of Italian movie scores during the 1980s and ‘90s (think: Luis Bacalov, Ennio Morricone, Nicola Piovani). One quibble: beginning at 1:13 until 2:12 in “Wish We Had More Time”, the second violin tremolos are much too loud, and are just as audible as the melodies by lower strings, first violins, and winds. Hans Zimmer’s score to WW84 is the most thematically fascinating he has composed over the last decade, and it – not Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy, not Inception (2010), and sure as hell not the sonic assault that is Dunkirk (2017) – represents the best of what he can be as a film score composer.

The temptation to elevate the dramatic stakes for sequels is present among all the major Hollywood studios. WW84 is not immune to this temptation, but it, at times, resists it. Its ungainly conclusion and dreadful narrative structure reflect those expectations, but one could not classify it as grimdark, such as almost everything Zack Snyder has directed. This is not a Wonder Woman limping her way through apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic times. Patty Jenkins’ sequel, however flawed, unironically celebrates its own corniness and absurdity – one cannot say this about the MCU (which does so only via metatextual humor). Many of us can no longer experience for the first time Wonder Woman emerging from the Allied trenches of WWI, but Wonder Woman 1984 provides a vision of superhero movies particular to creator William Moulton Marston, director Patty Jenkins, and Gal Gadot’s portrayal of Diana Prince. It even allows for faint echoes of the Lynda Carter Wonder Woman series that would not have been appropriate in the first film. Flawed though this film is, its approach, after a decade or so of building cinematic universes of dramatic escalations, signifies a refreshing change of pace.

My rating: 6/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

Also in this series: Wonder Woman (2017)

#Wonder Woman 1984 #WW84 #Wonder Woman #Patty Jenkins #Gal Gadot #Chris Pine #Kristen Wiig #Pedro Pascal #Robin Wright #Connie Nielsen #Lynda Carter #Geoff Johns #Dave Callaham #Matthew Jensen #Hans Zimmer #My Movie Odyssey

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