The Flash is supposed to be the latest attempt by Warner Brothers to unite their myriad DC Comics superhero properties into an extended universe along the lines of the one that Marvel has been milking for billions of dollars in ticket sales over the last year or so. In theory, this approach makes sense because the super-speedy character has proven to be a fan favorite in recent years, thanks to the popularity of a long-running TV series and well-received appearances by the character in Batman vs. Superman and Justice League, where he was played by rising star Ezra Miller. However, something seems too have gone horribly wrong in its seemingly endless journey to the big screen and I am not referring to the litany of off-screen transgressions reportedly committed by Miller that made headlines last year. Here is a film that is so overloaded with characters and incidents—most of them driven by a desire for cheap fan service than dramatic necessity—that its central figure (you know, the one with his name in the title) almost seems like a bystander to their own story for long stretches. That is bad enough but to make matters even worse, on the rare occasions when our titular hero is allowed to take center stage, it is in the form of a performance(s) so abrasive and off-putting that you’ll be wishing for either the peripheral nonsense to return or for a projection snafu that replaces it with a showing of the infinitely superior Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse instead.
When we pick up with the Flash, a.k.a. Barry Allen (Miller), he is working in a mind-numbing low-level job, struggling to prove the innocence of his father (Ron Livingston), who was sent to prison for the 2013 murder of his mother (Maribel Verdú) and, when time permits, aiding the likes of Batman and other superheroes in stopping the kind of cataclysmic crimes and events that are regular occurrences in this universe. At one point, Barry discovers that his super-speed is so tremendous that he can break the time-space continuum and literally go back in time. Inspired by this discovery, Barry discusses with Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) the possibility of going back in time to make one tiny little adjustment—involving nothing more than a forgotten can of tomatoes—that, if successful, will prevent the death of his mother and the loss of his father. Bruce quite sensibly informs him that this is a terrible idea for all the potential chaos that it could inspire and reminds him that as sad and troubled as their respective pasts may have been, they are a large part of what made them who they are today.
This is eminently sensible advice—even if it does come from a rich guy who dresses up in costume to punch bad guys in lieu of therapy—so Barry naturally decides to ignore it and zips back in time to do a tomato-based adjustment or two. Unfortunately, this inadvertently strands him in another timeline in which his parents are fine but where his 18-year-old alter-ego is an immature goofball. While trying to figure out how to correct that error, it turns out that General Zod (Michael Shannon) is arriving to carry out the Earth-destroying plot that was at the center of Man of Steel and to make matters even worse, this particular universe appears to be Superman-free. Determined to stop Zod, the Barrys decide to recruit Batman to help them, only to find out that in this particular universe, the Dark Knight comes in the form of none other than Michael Keaton. After the requisite amount of nagging, he signs on and the three set off to save the world and hopefully set things right, aided in no small part by Kryptonian refugee Kara (Sasha Calle) as well as a number of other familiar faces that I will not mention here, though I am sure that the internet is currently awash with spoilers in this regard.
In theory, The Flash is ostensibly attempting to do two things—reposition the character’s standing in the DC world from offbeat supporting player to full-fledged central hero and serve as a vehicle for gather as many of the existing DC films as possible under one narrative umbrella in order to finally establish the DCEU as a viable project destined to rival the MCU. Unfortunately, in the film’s long journey to the screen, some things have happened to short-circuit those moves long before it came close to hitting multiplexes—the various scandals involving Miller (egregious enough to cause some to think that the film might actually be reshot with another performer or shelved entirely) and the decision to bring in a new creative team to relaunch the DCEU within the next couple of years, making the story feel more like the ending of a not-exactly-loved era than the beginning of a brave new cinematic world. Another problem with the film’s delayed timing is that by coming out now, it reveals itself to be a superhero film built around multiverses, alternative timelines and all the various attendant details that, arriving in the wake of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Spider-Man: No Way Home, Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania and the glorious Spider-Man: Across the Multi-Verse, that cannot help but feel more than a little familiar this time around.
And yet, even if the timing for The Flash had been absolutely spot-on, I am not entirely certain that it would have helped matters much in the long run. The film gets off to a pretty good start with a jumbo-sized set piece—which begins with Barry struggling to satisfy his enormous caloric needs before expanding to him trying to use his powers to save the residents of the maternity ward of a collapsing hospital—that merges action with weirdo slapstick humor of the sort that Richard Lester controversially deployed at the beginning of Superman III. However, once that comes to a conclusion and the story proper kicks in, what should have been a story about Barry coming to realize that it is more important to come to terms with the past that to attempt to change it winds up getting bogged down with a lot of narrative fat and extraneous characters that almost leaves The Flash feeling like a side character than the central focus.
In fact, for many viewers, The Flash will be less notable as the debut of the character in his own dedicated feature and more so for the fact that it marks the return of Michael Keaton to the role of Batman for the first time since 1992’s Batman Returns. Keaton is pretty much the best thing here—he has a scene where he illustrates the problems and complications of the multiverse concept that is so effective that it should be screened as a prologue to any future superhero film utilizing that concept—but his appearance feels so much like blatant fan service (including direct quotes of two of his most famous lines from the original 1989 film) that it too often comes as a sort of distraction. (His appearance comes off as especially odd since director Andy Muschietti never even tries to evoke the Gothic stylings that Burton applied so successfully to the character and his environment.) The deployment of Supergirl feels even more forced—although newcomer Calle is okay in the part, she doesn’t have anything to do and she approaches the part with the same kind of glum dourness that Zack Snyder applied so unsuccessfully to his past contributions to the DCEU.
That said, perhaps the decision to put more of a focus on these side characters (to the point where the appearance of Keaton, which was presumably meant to be a surprise reveal, has pretty much become the focus of the promotional campaign) came about as a result of the unavoidable fact that the theoretical focus of the film, the performances by Miller, were not quite working. In their previous appearances as The Flash, Miller brought a refreshing bit of jittery energy to the proceedings that was reasonably winning but, it must be remembered, they were only one member of an ensemble. Here, however, they never quite manage to click and the offbeat energy that worked in small doses only serves as a reminder here that sometimes less is indeed more. This is not to say that they aren’t making an effort—Miller is certainly giving it their all as the two variations of Barry—but he ultimately comes across as more abrasive than winning here.
Ultimately, The Flash is more of a miss than a mess—it is preferable to the crushingly disappointing likes of Quantumania but never quite works in the end. The story is far more concerned with scoring easy laughs and applause from comic book fanatics with in-jokes and stunt casting than in telling a compelling story (especially a sequence near the conclusion that veers from the mawkish to the lunatic thanks to the performers dragged into the proceedings), the action beats are mostly forgettable (including some startlingly shoddy-looking visual effects) and a central hero who is often more annoying than anything else. More significantly, there is the inescapable fact that Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse tells much of the same story as this film does, only in a smarter, funnier and more visually stylish manner that will still reverberate with viewers long after the current superhero vogue has finally faded. The Flash, on the other hand, doesn’t bring much of anything new to the table—the most effective moments are bits borne almost entirely out of viewer nostalgia while the rest of it vanishes from the mind almost as quickly as its hero. You’ve seen worse superhero movies than The Flash, I suppose, but I can almost guarantee that you have seen much better ones over the years as well.