A note to all you Jeremy Martin obsessives out there: When you cut out this review and paste it next to my previous review in your officially licensed Jeremy Martin Commemorative Film Critique Scrapbook ($24.95 at sacurrent.com), you’ll notice I gave Watchmen, a faithful and occasionally incredible big-budget adaptation of maybe the most acclaimed graphic novel ever, a rating one half-star lower than I’m giving Wonder Woman, a direct-to-DVD cartoon featuring the voice of that chick from Felicity. I’m not trying to say Wonder Woman is a better comic-book film, but I am saying that it’s probably the best movie anyone’s capable of making starring Wonder Woman (voiced here by Russell) — that perpetually delayed Joss Whedon project notwithstanding. We’ll never see her decapitate someone in a live-action film; the studio will insist on a PG rating. We’ll never see Wonder Woman’s mother, Queen Hippolyta (Madsen), lead an army of Amazons into battle against mythological monsters; Warner Bros. won’t approve that kind of special-effects budget. And we’ll certainly never see love interest Steve Trevor (voiced awesomely by Nathan “Mal from Firefly” Fillion) suck any less than he does right here. He’s sort of a smug shitbird, but he’s a decent fighter and capable dude requiring only a minimum of ass-saving, for the first time almost worthy of scoring some Amazonian tail. And Wonder Woman totally owns him. She tackles Trevor and surfs down a mountain on his back. She drinks him under the table without getting buzzed. Sure, a lot of this is obvious pandering to feminists in an effort to distract from the, like, five decades of comics in which DC’s flagship super heroine was mostly tied up and tickled with ostrich feathers by women in leopard suits, but it’s proof that female superheroes don’t have to be lame, and it deserves four stars just for that. But not five, because she still has that freaking invisible plane.