The Flash (a cinematic spin on Geoff Johns/Andy Kubert's The Flashpoint Paradox), directed by Andres Muschetti and scripted by Christina Hodson (et al), has taken its sweet time coming, and despite pandemic paranoia, it should have been released years ago, existing now as a permanent part of our superhero libraries. No matter. It's arrived and presently occupies global auditoriums.
Thank goodness the wait was worth it, for The Flash delivers the action-packed goods, presenting Ezra Miller's Barry Allen devising the ambitious (if not reckless) plan to zoom back in time to save his mother (Maribel Verdu) from being murdered and keeping his father (Ron Livingston) from being accused of the deed. However, like Wonder Woman 1984, The Flash has a "Monkey's Paw" caveat, molding a reality unlike any that our titular protagonist could have expected, with jarring tradeoffs unspooling.
Before the big, dimensional penetration occurs, Ben Affleck's Bruce Wayne warns Allen of the tit-for-tat gamble, but the impassioned youngster conducts his bold experiment anyway and succeeds in eradicating the heartbreaking paths that have long plagued him.
But the parallel plane also spurts Elseworld anomalies, with Michael Keaton's Bruce Wayne ruling the Batman roost, even if in dusty seclusion. Meanwhile, a Kal-El/Superman surrogate, Sasha Calle's Kara Zora-El/Supergirl is imprisoned by the Russians for scrutiny. Oh, and there's another non-Meta Allen sauntering about, an unassuming, but no less determined twin, who has as much potential to get in the way as he does to share and conquer the calamity. (Kiersey Clemons' Iris West appears, as well, to keep purists content; she's respectable in her news-hounding ways, enough not to clutter the story.)
The aforementioned components unfold as Michael Shannon's General Zod enters (i.e. tracking a certain Kryptonian for a certain insidious goal), accompanied by his Ursa-variant consort, Antje Traue's Faora-Ul. It appears that Zod's arrival is an incidental result of the tumbling state of The Flash's well-intended meddling. Regardless of the cause, with one as towering as the sadistic general (and no valiant Kryptonian in evident sight, beyond a sequestered cousin), what can Allen do to quell the quandary?
Keaton's Batman is enlisted, though the drop-in Allen anticipates another Affleck. The reveal adds a clever homolog to the mounting mission. It doesn't hurt, either, that Keaton's Caped Crusader knows his stuff and has the courage to circumvent the invaders.
Meanwhile, Supergirl gains her release (and it sure does soar, in one of the movie's best sequences). With her integral participation sealed, the quartet gains a viable fighting chance, but even so, Zod is as enraged and entitled as he was in Man of Steel, establishing odds that don't favor success for our heroes; and yet in the sphere of try-and-try-again, anything is possible, though as our protagonists learn, often to an exhausting fault.
Though the debates and philosophies regarding the need to let the past be are many, it's the character chemistry that dominates the paradox. It's quite like a children's playset, with mix-and-match action figures installed, though the imagined exchanges are funny, bitter and concerned, cherry-topped by the grand novelty of Keaton's return. It works, therefore, from both ends, being profound and nostalgic all at once.
One could argue that due to Affleck and Keaton, The Flash is as much a Batman chapter as one fueled for the great speedster (or for that matter, Supergirl or maybe, just maybe, those anticipated, surprise appearances--and yes, they do come!), but when all is said and done, one should perceive the movie as a kaleidoscopic exploit experienced through the eyes of each Allen.
Alas, Miller's offscreen antics could halt his continuation of the character, but with so many celebrities acting irrationally (and given numerous chances to press onward), Miller emerges as mild in comparison. Bottom line: He's damn charismatic in this flick (particularly during the Speed Force share, where he lets his best Jerry Lewis fly), though it may have been cool if Grant Gustin had played the other Allen, thus juggling the colliding-world complexity further (regardless of the genetic toss that such casting would have brought).
Oh, well, it is what it is, and The Flash, as it stands, is a soaring, time-warping triumph that's proven well worth the wait, no matter what bucks it may or may not earn. Simply put, it's one of 2023's crème de la crème.
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