Everybody seems to love the new Wonder Woman movie. There’s quite a bit that I like about it myself, especially the depiction of Diana’s personality. And it’s nice to see a DC movie where the atmosphere isn’t so gloomy—the literal, physical atmosphere as well as the mood, I mean.
One thing that irks me, though, is the movie’s sense of history. It doesn’t have one.
A couple of decades may not seem like a big shift, but there’s a world of difference between 1918 and 1941. Any time traveler from 2017 would experience much more profound culture shock in the WWI era than the WWII one. I’m not just referring to the external conditions of people’s lives, like technology and clothing, but also to the internal conditions: the ways that people of different classes, genders, and other categories conceived of themselves and related to one another.
The 1910s were much less recognizably modern than the 1940s, and much more “foreign” from the standpoint of the present day. There’s little sense of this “foreignness” in Wonder Woman other than the hairstyles and costumes. For a movie set a century ago, it’s notably ahistorical. This is especially true of Steve Trevor himself. None of his dialogue or his characterization would be inappropriate for an airman/intelligence officer of WWII. For that matter, none of it would be out of place for a man of our own time.
It’s interesting to contrast Wonder Woman‘s Trevor with the characters in another movie released this year, The Lost City of Z. Portions of that film take place during WWI; in fact, both Wonder Woman and Lost City have battle sequences in which troops go over the top and into the hellscape of no man’s land. But while Trevor is more or less interchangeable with a twenty-first-century American, Lost City‘s Percy Fawcett is very much a man of his time and class. Indeed, the mores of the Edwardian British upper class figure in Lost City‘s plot. Fawcett’s questionable family background hampers his advancement. It’s the story of a time and place when pedigree mattered a great deal. Its characters’ attitudes and outlooks are distinct from our own. Wonder Woman‘s Steve Trevor, by contrast, could be your next-door neighbor.
What’s especially curious is that the makers of Wonder Woman seem pretty uninterested in exploiting their period’s special relevance to everything that makes their title character singular. Wonder Woman posed quite a challenge to prevailing attitudes about femininity in 1941, but imagine what a radical figure she would’ve been in 1918, before the ratification of the Nineteenth Amendment. You’d think a movie about a superhuman warrior woman that takes place in an era when women’s lives were so circumscribed would milk that fact for all it’s worth. But the film’s engagement with 1910s gender norms is surprisingly light. There’s a passing reference to women’s suffrage, an amusing scene in which Diana tries on a corset and underskirt for the first time, and another in which her presence inside an all-male conference room causes an uproar. That’s about it. I’m not trying to argue that the filmmakers should have concentrated more on Diana’s challenge to 1918 gender norms. I just find it surprising that they didn’t engage that angle more, given their choice to set the story in the 1910s rather than the 1940s or 2010s.
I’m well aware that critiquing this movie on the basis of its historical sensibility is somewhat beside the point. It isn’t really a “historical” film in the same sense that The Lost City of Z is. Nobody goes to Wonder Woman to immerse themselves in the 1910s. The filmmakers’ only real duties were to be true to the central character and to tell a good story. But the notion of the past as a foreign country is a favorite theme of mine, so I get miffed when filmmakers and storytellers assume that people have always been more or less like us. Some of Wonder Woman‘s most enjoyable moments are the ones in which Diana finds herself a fish out of water in a world of men. But if any of us found ourselves in WWI-era Europe, we’d likely feel out of place, too.