WW84, FOUR

We have a continuation of the Wonder Woman character. Is she still a Nine?

She’s very physical, of course. The thing she values most, her superpowers, are threatened by her wish. In the opening sequence, when she’s a child, she’s physically driven and very Nine-ish, very much the Diana we remember.

To wish for Steve’s return, especially when you don’t know that you’re actually wishing for something that can come true, is a move any Enneagram number could follow. Lost love and broken hearts.

Steve, however, causes problems for a Nine. He magically inhabits another man’s body without his permission or knowledge. I suspect a Nine, a Body Type, would find that egregious. In order to keep Steve, Diana must accept the loss of her prowess. Again, I have doubts that a Nine would roll with this. The failing of her own body would be unacceptable, as would the injustice of using someone else’s body. Either the production team has written a Diana who violates her own character, or they’ve changed Enneagram numbers on her.

What number, if any, would follow these conditions? Well, not a Body Type. Probably not Head, either. Too many rules are broken. Heart is the only possibility. Diana puts everything aside for love.

They’ve made Diana a Four. Her loneliness, her depression, consume her. She barely can generate a friendship with Barbara. Her fighting is peremptory. The only physical joy we see is her flying, which could be attributed to emotion and her memory of Steve. And when she meets the Body Donator — the man who was Steve — she seems nostalgic rather than horrified. It’s about her and her feelings, not a consciousness of him. 

I was sad that more of this movie wasn’t about WW and Cheetah. The change from Nine to Four would be responsible for that. A Nine story would look outward more; the Four story looks inward.

Presumably now that she’s made peace with Steve’s passing she can resume her duties as Wonder Woman. If they’re financed for another movie, will they flip her back to a Nine?

CHEETAH, SIX

We see more of her as Barbara Minerva. Cheetah gets one fight scene in full furry regalia, and she seems like a character that is only rage, not personality, at this point. But, cool name, cool title.

Her alter ego is stereotypically geeky and awkward. She can’t walk in high heels until after the wish. No one listens to her until after the wish. She’s metaphorically invisible. She’s physically vulnerable to harassment. Honestly, these traits are so cliche it’s painful. I, and I don’t think I’m alone, expected more originality from the WW84 team.

This is who we have, though, and this is who Wiig had to play. What did she have to work with?

She had niceness. Everyone who wishes, according to the Rules of the Magic, loses what is most important to them. Max Lord risks his son. This is a tangible fear and an actionable one: I want to keep my son. Pascal is given a playable trait. Wiig is given: I want to keep my pleasant outlook on life.

Which Enneagram number is the nicest? She’s socially unable to connect, so not a Heart Type. The high heel thing suggests she’s not a Body Type. The brainy job suggests she’s a Head Type. Not a Seven — they’re not awkward like that.

A Six, because Wonder Woman, the person she wishes to emulate, is a Nine. Sixes move to Nine in strength. And, I’m surprised to realize, Sixes in their purest form are indeed the nicest number.

The Boy in the Iceberg

As the very first episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender this one contains a lot of Rules of the Magic events. We have a fantasy world that needs explaining. The introduction before the credits carries a lot of weight, but we’ll need more for this initial look.

ONE

We meet Katara and Sokka, sister and brother, as they fish ice-laden water in a canoe. This entire episode is very good at summing up a character in one scene. Sokka’s humor, how he becomes the slapstick butt of the joke often, is introduced. Katara as sincere, serious, and unsure of her abilities, are shown right away. And we learn something about water bending. Boom.

TWO

An unexpected flow of water puts the canoe in danger, then crashes it. Certainly this is Trouble, but is it enough? After Katara and Sokka become stranded on a little iceberg they argue. As Katara becomes angrier, she unconsciously bends water behind her, making large waves. A sizable iceberg rises from the ocean. This is also Trouble.

Perhaps the combination of these events is the Two. Perhaps only one of them. Because this episode is continued, and this is not a complete Enneagram story arc, I can’t know for sure. Often the Two and Three can’t be labeled until I can look at the end and see the whole movement.

THREE

Inside the large iceberg is another, a blue bubble with a boy suspended in the middle. The arrow marking on his forehead glows. He’s alive. This discovery of Aang could be the Three.

Katara attacks the berg, breaking it open, and it explodes with a beam of light shooting into the sky. This magical moment could also be the Three.

FOUR

I think those are our only options, because the next scene shows Zuko and Uncle Iroh on their Fire Nation ship, searching for the Avatar. Again, each character is perfectly introduced. At this point we only know Zuko as a villain, but we see his drive. Iroh’s gentility helps soften Zuko’s obsessiveness.

And then we officially meet Aang and Appa. (Appa!) We learn the magic of air bending. We sense that Aang is avoiding something.

Everything we see is information we’ll need later in the series. The Southern Tribe has no men in the village and no benders. The war with the Fire Nation has been going on for one hundred years, and Aang knows nothing about it. Zuko must find the Avatar to restore his honor and return home. It’s all presented in a way that feels organic, not like exposition.

SWITCH

Again, I’m guessing without the rest of the story, but it seems natural that the episode break would come at the Switch. Aang and Katara accidentally trip a trap in an abandoned Fire Nation ship, sending a beacon into the air. Zuko, using a spyglass, sees them and the village. He is headed right for them. Cliffhanger! Stay tuned until next week.

MR. POTTER, FIVE

He’s the villain. He’s stingy, cross, and infirm. He’s ambitious. Without George he practically turns Bedford Falls into Vegas. He certainly fits a lot of tropes: greedy capitalist villain, angry physically-challenged villain, crotchety old man villain. If he had a mustache, he’d twirl it.

Underneath all of that stereotyping, do we have an Enneagram? When he realizes that Uncle Billy has left the bank deposit in the newspaper, does he have a brief moment, a flash, of sympathy? (Well, no. He takes an evil glee in knowing a secret.) When he and George are the only two to keep their heads during the bank run, he admires George as more than a competitor. And when he offers George a job, tempting him to sell the Savings and Loan for an easier life, isn’t he almost successful because he knows what pains George the most? Either he’s just the Devil, or he’s a man who has watched George over the years. Does he have — gasp — fatherly feelings toward George?

Let’s make some guesses. Potter physically declines with age, which in the most general and anecdotal way possible suggests a Head Type.

Five, Six, or Seven? Not a Six. He doesn’t seem to have a moral code, a black-and-white view of the world. He’s bad because he’s stingy and cheap, not because some great wrong offends him.

He’s a Five. A Five’s besetting sin is stinginess. They’re just knee-jerk that way. They’re also uncanny in their observation of others. Potter’s understanding of George, of what drives him and of what he fears, fits this. And the Bedford Falls he creates without George is just a mash-up of others’ vices. A Five would become overwhelmed with a bunch of competing desires and step away, letting everyone do as they want. As long as order was maintained a Five would turn hermit and escape.

Also, a Five’s social clumsiness can turn them into a curmudgeon. They want to be liked but other people are so baffling! Potter is a Five pushed to all the extremes.

UNCLE BILLY, TWO

He’s forgetful. When Mr. Bailey dies no one suggests that Uncle Billy could run the Savings and Loan. He’s a beautiful, loyal heart, but a manager he is not.

Uncle Billy loses the deposit — forgets it — because he wants a piece of Mr. Potter. He just has to tell him off, which causes him to leave the money behind, momentarily forgotten. Is this a trait that helps identify his Enneagram? Anyone would want a righteous poke at Potter. Not everyone would let their emotion out until the deposit was secured, though.

And when George yells at him . . . oh, doesn’t it break your heart? It’s because Uncle Billy, in a small way, deserves it. He’s a grown man who can’t be trusted with a grown-up’s responsibility. However, it’s possible that Billy is mentally challenged. No one spells it out, but that’s how he’s played. Without George, in the angel’s version, Billy is committed to a mental institution. No one’s asked him to step up, no one’s depended on his support. On his own he can’t cope.

I’m tempted to say that Uncle Billy has no Enneagram. He has the strings on his fingers, and all else could be attributed to challenge rather than personality. Is he a Head Type? A Body Type? Probably not. As a Heart Type is he a befuddled Two? His sweet enthusiasm, and his love for George, are priceless. 

Actually, that’s the clue that he’s a Two, albeit a challenged Two. Sevens, which is George, tend to collect Twos as precious sidekicks. (Notice that Clarence is also a Two.) Without George, Billy has no purpose or direction.

MARY HATCH, NULL

She’s determined. She wants George and she pursues any opening he gives her. She’s organized. Very. Ridiculously so. She leads the local USO while refinishing an old house and raising her children.

All of the community facets –such as parties for Savings and Loan customers — are a joy to her. When George needs help she calls so many people, local and further away, because she’s established those social connections over the years. Everyone loves Mary.

What Enneagram is she? Her effortless ability to juggle so much suggests a Three. Her belovedness suggests a Two. Her organizational skills could also suggest a One.

Is Mary more of a perfect-wife archetype than an actual character? Does she have any flaws? The honeymoon dinner with the chicken rotisserie that uses the turntable is wonderful, but possibly too clever.

Is Mary so Not Me that I have trouble accepting her as believable? Haha, maybe. This is George’s story, though, through and through. He arcs, he faces a true crisis. Mary is a set piece. All of George’s woes belong solely to him because what man could complain about this wife? She’s designed to be perfect.

Hmph. I’m disappointed.

I’m also relieved, because she’s a high bar to face every Christmas season. If she’s not an actual character I don’t need to measure myself against her. Whew.

CLARENCE, TWO

He’s an angel. He’s an inept angel. In the hierarchy of heavenly beings, he’s on the bottom rung.

The more I think about Clarence, the more he bugs me. He’s so twee! As a trope subverter — dufus angel — he feels very contrived. Of course this bumbling fool will find a way to save George’s soul. No competent angel could figure out how to show George the purpose of his life? All the wise angels were busy? And heaven is ordered like a first-grade classroom, with wings passed out like gold stars for getting the math quiz correct?

Whew, I had no idea poor Clarence pushed my outrage button like this!

He connects with George on an emotional and sympathetic level. Heart Type. Not a Three, obviously. (A Three on the bottom rung of the angel ladder? Puh-leaze.) He’s too gentle with George to be a Four.

Two. He has that oddball quality. Heaven is happy to have him, they just can’t figure out what to do with him yet. To devise a plan that shows such heartbreak to not only the family but the entire town, is not something a Head or Body would’ve thought up. Not in this way. The social fabric of Bedford Falls is ruined by George’s absence. That’s very Heart.

HOME SWEET PINEAPPLE

ONE

Something. A group of somethings. Worms hopping together, all saying, “Walking.”

TWO

They stop. “Hungry.” 

THREE

They swarm and consume a coral structure in two seconds. Alright, their group-minded behavior is really funny, like Finding Nemo’s seagulls. Frightening, but funny.

FOUR

“Still hungry.” There goes some fish’s boat/car. “Dang nematodes,” says the fish. Ah, a name for this being. I got them confused with the Anchovies from the first episode. #CreaturesThatSwarm

“Thirsty.” Pan camera to reveal the pineapple neighborhood. Rut-roh.

Aaaargh! They pull out straws and suck on the house! It shrinks, still a perfect pineapple. Spongebob, inside, sleeps. Gary’s food bowl shrinks and disappears. The foghorn alarm gets smaller, ringing higher, until it disappears. Only Spongebob and Gary stay their size.

The house is shrinking around them. Spongebob calls Squidward on the shell phone. It shrinks away.

Patrick opens his rock. The pineapple shrinks away, leaving Spongebob and Gary in the crater. “Nematodes.” The only thing left is “this little pebble”.

Squid and Pat see that Spongebob’s house is gone. 

Thinking Spongebob will now vacate the neighborhood, Squidward shakes his hand and wishes him well. Party streamers come from the Head window.

Spongebob pockets the “pebble”. (I know, I’ve seen it. But I still think the pebble insert would be a sufficient clue for someone watching the episode for the first time.)

SWITCH

Move back with Mom and Dad? There’s their picture as an insert! (They’re so cute.) No, we’ll build you a new house!

FIVE

Shiny, hard hat-wearing duo. With tools! No surprise, but they’re terrible at building. Montage of their hijinks. And then there’s a finished pineapple. A small one. It’s the size of a hat. And it breaks.

Now where? Rockmates with Patrick. The rock is like a shared blanket. Hahaha! Trouble, ending with Patrick dreaming of spiders and smashing the rock on Spongebob. They always give you the joke you expect, and then take it one further. And even more. Cracking up.

Squidward sleeps peacefully. He agrees to let Spongebob stay. Wait for it . . . yup. There’s the close-up of his eyes bugging out as he wakes up enough to realize what he’s said. Kicked out.

Nighttime over the ocean. Moon and island shot. Dissolve to day.

Squidward wakes up. It’s a celebration day. He’s so happy to be saying farewell to Spongebob. 

Patrick cries. Mom and Dad drive up to gather Spongebob and his bags.

SIX

Spongebob reaches in his pocket! 

Destruction vs. Creation as the Three/Six? Visually it’s a stretch, but thematically it’s quite good. A large coral and a small seed don’t seem connected at first glance. I guess you could also say that the Three is the action of a crowd and the Six is the effort of an individual. It gets even lovelier!

SEVEN

He buries the pebble in his house crater and waters it with his tears. Underground shot of the pebble absorbing the water and activating.

EIGHT

Shaking hands goodbye. Squid, still in the crater, does a dance. Intercut Patrick holding back the boat/car, the pebble glowing, and the Squiddie victory performance.

A large vine sprouts next to the crater, grows a pineapple (with windows and door), and drops it on Squidward’s head.

“My house is back!” They all go inside, happy, and step on a flattened Squidward under the floor dirt.

NINE

“I’m back forever!” says Spongebob.

Squid, still a sand figure, mumbles, “Forever?” Thwarted again, buddy.

GEORGE BAILEY, SEVEN

When I was younger I couldn’t stand to watch George beaten down by life and denied his dreams. Duty keeps him from adventure. Self-sacrifice locks him at home while his brother pursues the world. From a certain perspective this is a very painful story.

What kind of a man takes a job he hates in order to fulfill his father’s promises, marries a woman he loves although she prefers a lifestyle that repulses him, and turns to thoughts of suicide when life wearies him, as all life does?

I’m immediately distracted by tall, lanky Jimmy Stewart, who fits a specific body build. Is George a Four or a Five? I doubt it. He’s not funny enough or contemplative enough for either.

Is George a Seven? Someone who dreams big is more heartbreaking than a practical man. A One, a Three — these heroes would bring a completely different, more encouraging story. Not a Six; a Six expects to be disappointed by life. Not a Two; George sees his house as a millstone rather than a quirky mansion.

Seven, Eight, or Nine? He does save his brother’s life on the ice. Any of these numbers could accomplish this. In every other way he shows no aptitude for physical activity, so I’ll say he’s not a Body Type.

Seven it is. What other number could wish for something more, be the kind of person who could achieve steamer-trunk adventures, and yet honors his commitments? His heroism is quiet, the kind that real men can attain, but it makes for depressing storytelling.

YUKON CORNELIUS, EIGHT

The tongue, right? Tasting his thrown axe for that sweet gold ore.

He’s so jolly! (Hey, Skinny Santa, this is how you do it.) His little doggos and his cheer, his adventurous spirit and his easygoing acceptance — who doesn’t love Yukon? He’s a little bit of a mentor, a wise man, for Rudolph and Hermey. He’s a loner, after all, and he knows how to find peace and contentment in the wild.

Who is this bearded Mountain Man?

He has gadgets and friends, a sled loaded with paraphernalia, and an open and welcoming personality. Society is an odd match for him — square peg, round hole — and his heart, when given, is 100% yours. Two?

No, wait! He’s an Eight (who moves to Two in strength). Look at that robust torso! He’s so aggressive and confident around the Abominable. And who else would tame the beast? Too funny. Only an Eight would create a very Humble Bumble.

Didn’t you just love him when you were a child? He’s brash and comfortable. But that tongue thing — and somehow tasting weird things is an Eight quality, who knew? — was always a little too far.