ROBIN HOOD (1938), NINE

Most iterations of Hood will measure against Errol Flynn’s portrayal in this version. He’s an archetype. The cheerful brashness, the resolute seeking of redress, the swordplay, even the tights — he personifies the basic understanding of Robin Hood.

Is there an Enneagram under all of that?

Nine. Of course. 

He’s very physically competent. He’s the greatest archer. He can almost best Little John with the staff. He rides, he rope swings, etc. This is a Body Type.

Part of the Robin Hood mythos is his reluctance. He’s an aristocrat who can survive the Prince John regency without pain, if he so chooses. Injustice becomes too much for him and he engages in rebellion. All of this is very Nine. Trouble must push at him until he can no longer resist.

This Hood’s Marian, as a Three, is a good match for him. Her vitality will pull him forward when he would otherwise sit back.

I am curious, though, if a Hood with a different Enneagram would work. Must this character be a Nine in all versions of his story? Stick a pin in this one.

MAID MARIAN (1938), THREE

One of the most beautiful women in film, this Marian is my heroine. The costume design (wimples!), the luminous portrayal by Olivia de Havilland, and Marian’s feisty and loyal character make this the best of the Maids.

She’s brave. As a ward she has the protection of King Richard, but he’s not around. Prince John clearly tells her that she’s vulnerable. Until that moment you could argue that Marian isn’t particularly brave. She’s entitled. However, she’s a lone woman in a rough world. Sneaking to the inn to help organize an escape for Robin is above and beyond. She’s afraid for Robin, but not for herself.

Even when she’s potentially just privileged — when she’s “invited” to share a meal with the Merry Men — she sees the poor and how Robin provides for them as pitiable and just. Marian is a “broad”, a great gal who subverts your expectation that she’ll be fussy.

So what Enneagram is she? This Marian is no Body Type. She doesn’t have a penchant for archery, horseback riding, or any outdoor activities. She’s Heart. She knows how to play a room, even a large dining hall with dogs fighting over meat scraps. She’s bold and not intimidated.

Not a Two. She’s too tough. Four or Three? Her vivacity could indicate either, but I’ll say a Three because her emotions are on such an even keel. Her ups and downs only vary slightly from center.

The Avatar Returns

I must remind myself of the first part, The Boy in the Iceberg, and that this episode is a continuation, a part two. This is to be the second half of the Story Enneagram, the arc of both parts together.

SWITCH

I assumed that the episode break would be the Switch, and that seems to be true. Katara and Aang inadvertently signaled Zuko on his Fire Nation ship, revealing the Avatar’s location. When they return to the village Gran-Gran tells Aang he must leave. Katara knew not to go on the derelict, and now Aang is banished. He walks away.

FIVE

Zuko arrives, his ship breaking through the ice wall that surrounds the village. Out he comes, down the ramp, and Sokka attacks him. It’s futile. Riding a penguin, Aang slides in to save the day. He saw the ship arrive from a distance. The villagers, especially the children, are in danger from his bending fight with Zuko, though, so Aang surrenders. The Fire Nation ship, with Aang aboard, pulls out.

So far, everything up until now feels like the momentum from “Iceberg” is finishing up. The confrontation between Aang and Zuko is what we expected. Sokka, using regular warrior skills, is basically powerless in an arena of bending. A world without the Avatar is powerless against the Fire Nation.

SIX

During the skirmish we have positive confirmation that Aang is indeed the Avatar. He says, “Looking for me?” We get the great moment when Zuko, who’s been seeking a one hundred year old man, realizes his adversary is a child.

At the Three, Aang in the iceberg is revealed. He’s got the glowing forehead arrow and the beam of light. Clearly he’s special, different. At the Six we now know why. The penguin-sledding boy is more than he seemed.

SEVEN

Aang, looking around at the vulnerable villagers, surrenders to Zuko. Zuko honors his promise, takes the Avatar on board, and leaves. “Set course for the Fire Nation.”

We don’t know enough about Zuko yet to realize what a triumphant moment this is for him. Yes, the villain has won, but we’ll learn so much more about his character and what drives him. This is a taste of Zuko’s storyline.

EIGHT

Katara and Sokka will follow after Aang in their canoe. Of course Appa comes in and becomes their transport. It’s a nice little moment. Also, it’s a call-back to the Two when their canoe crashed. Good continuity.

The rest of the episode is a bang-up battle with Aang on the ship. “I’m guessing you’ve never fought an air-bender before.” And we’ve never seen an air-bender fight. It’s amazing! Fire — punching fireballs at someone or throwing an arc of flame on a roundhouse kick — makes sense. It’s just a continuation of regular martial arts technique. Air bending, though, is more magical. It’s based in aikido — using your opponent’s strength against them — but wind is used in creative, unexpected ways. It’s a great scene, a great Eight. I won’t spoil it with jaw-jaw.

Zuko doesn’t quit, though. A key character trait of his, his indomitable will even when he’s losing, leads him to inadvertently knock Aang into the ocean. Aang, sinking, starts to glow. In later episodes we’ll learn that he’s entered the Avatar state. Right now, though, he just goes to another level of power. He water bends a whirlpool that lifts him from the ocean. As an air bender he’s been winning the fight. As the Avatar, he’s a destructive force who can’t be stopped. 

He’s quickly exhausted, though, depleted. Katara and Sokka help him onto Appa, and they all escape. Zuko’s ship, bow crushed under an ice block, is left behind. “I won’t underestimate him again,” he says. Beautiful climax, beautiful resolution. Very satisfying.

NINE

Now we have our team, flying through the sky. They’ll head to the Northern Tribe where Aang and Katara can study water bending together from a master. 

First, though, some fun stops along the way are planned. Aang is a reluctant Avatar. His psychological journey to accept his destiny is already clearly a main arc. A lot of questions started in this first double episode, a lot of excitement and delivery. You’re totally hooked.

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.