Where Did the Magic Go? (A proffered defense of WW84)

Everyone knows that magic is not real. We all know that when Penn and Teller mystify us in Las Vegas, we are just being fed an illusion. We know it is fake.

But we still love it.

Why do we no longer hold the same love for film?

Film, like magic, requires a suspension of disbelief. If we spend the entire Penn and Teller show trying to disprove their tricks, looking for wires, proclaiming to our significant others who may be with us, friends and family, how each and every trick is done, if we do that, then the magic is gone. We don’t like the show. We are not delighted, resting in delight of what we have seen or what we have been purportedly shown. Our joy is gone, no laughter escapes our lips, or rather, no laughter free of derision and scorn. In place of joy, of magic, of delight, is a cold, harsh cynicism. A brutal desire to destroy the act blooms in our minds, and we do that, to anyone who would listen. We spill the beans on the tricks, we talk brashly about how we were not drawn in for a minute, and how we hated the experience, and how thank god, the casino serves alcohol while the show is going on.

Some people do approach magic like that, with a disillusioned eye, determined to spread the disillusion.

But, from what little experience I have with magic shows (thank you Penn and Teller), the majority of the audience does not approach magic that way. Instead, they embrace the illusion. We want to believe in the magic, we want to feel that rush of adrenaline when something unexplainable takes place. We want the joy.

Film used to be that way.

From it’s inception, going back to Eedweard Muybridge and his moving photographs, the moving picture elicited joy, delight, awe. We delighted as Charlie Chaplin struggled to survive in Modern Times, tangling himself with machines, but in a manner that suggested mirth and produced comedy. We were swept up by Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh in Gone With the Wind, enamored with their doomed romances, both with each other and with a world that never existed. We traveled with John Wayne in The Searchers, soaking up the film’s wild vistas. We luxuriated in Al Pacino’s decadent, but tragic life in The Godfather, eagerly accepting a deal we couldn’t refuse. We fought an alien menace with Ellen Ripley in James Cameron’s Aliens. Then Cameron showed us the magic of living metal in Terminator 2 and we sat in awe and delight.

But then we started to take our films with a grain of salt. We began to tear at the illusion. We complained about the naked plot of blue aliens and humans in Avatar; derisively calling it Dances With Wolves in space. We spent hours embracing and then viciously ripping apart our most beloved space opera, the Star Wars films, particularly with an eye to those released in 1999 and after. Even the films we loved, we tore at, spending countless words and minutes proclaiming the faults and shortcomings of huge box office hits, the Marvel Cinematic Universe films. Don’t believe me? Just go on YouTube and search. We maintained our ability to suspend disbelief, but we reserved it, for specific films, for reasons we cannot even put into words.

A week ago, well, not quite a week, WW84 came out.

It had a decent enough box office for these pandemic times, and the suits seemed to be sufficiently happy with it’s initial performance to announce a sequel. But social media became alive with derision. Twitter in particular became a seething cesspool of negative opinion all directed at the film.

Now, we are all entitled to our own opinions on any film. And we are all entitled to voice those opinions in any way we wish. I do not denounce this is any way.

But I do bemoan the loss of our desire to suspend disbelief.

WW84 leans heavily into it’s roots, which in this case is the 80’s television show, Wonder Woman, with Linda Carter. The film is awash with nods and winks to that era, and that show.

I loved it.

But I’ll let you in on a secret — I never watched the Linda Carter show…like ever.

Here is a movie though, that comes in, and immediately proclaims to it’s audience, “This is a magic trick. This is not real. Now, let us begin.” WW84 makes no bones about it’s existence as slight of hand, illusion, and it embraces it.

When I read the majority of the complaints others voice about this film, most of them amount to a rejection of the suspension of disbelief. Now, you may say to me, “Alan. It’s clearly not a good movie, if I can’t suspend my disbelief. That’s part of the film’s job, to put me in a position to suspend my disbelief.”

I won’t argue with that point. It is valid. But I will again point to my observation of the beginning of this film, that this film pushes it’s unreality upon you and says, “Come with me!” It cries out for the audience to actively suspend their disbelief, not just passively as a response to the film, but actively with the film. The film, in many ways, is constantly saying, “Remember when!” It invites you to travel backwards in time, and delight in the movement of pictures, in the absurd joy of Chaplin fighting with a machine.

That does not work for everyone, but it does work for me.

I took the invitation and went with Patty Jenkins on her journey. I found that she tried deftly to take the old magic and inject some modern sensibility into it, though not in a way that was obvious, creating a situation that feels wrong, from the beginning, but that you eventually get used to, only to be reminded, in the end, that it was wrong all along.

Patty gives us minor delights, little moments we are invited to cherish instead of large moments that overwhelm us. We have become used to large moments that overwhelm us, particularly in super hero films. We rarely spend time on small moments anymore, the first time Barbara Minerva deftly jumps on a chair in heels to avoid a mop bucket spill, flying through fireworks, even a simple red balloon drifting upwards into the clouds. Even the larger moments are imbued with the feel of smaller ones — Diana learning to fly, fighting through an armored convoy, even showing the entire world the Truth of their actions, and reminding the audience at the same time — their enjoyment is their decision.

Only you can save the world.

Again, it will not work for everyone. I’m not so naïve as to believe that any film will appeal to everyone. Nothing is perhaps more subjective than film, well, any entertainment really. You like what you like, and you don’t like what you don’t like. But if you’re reading nothing but negative reactions to WW84, but you’re still interested in seeing it, then embrace it for what it is — a magic trick, a moving picture, something amazing and out of its own time, a personal invitation to embrace your ability to suspend disbelief and feel joy, feel delight, feel awe.

In this day and age, we could all use a little more of those feelings, and we have the ability to find them, embrace them, share them. Even if WW84 is not your thing, find something that is, and embrace it. Because Patty is right, only you can save the world.