Here’s a fun little exercise the next time you’re at a public place: Mention The Flash and witness people immediately get into a discussion/debate about Ezra Miller.
That’s what happened when I brought up the movie at a neighborhood bar. “I don’t think I’ll see it,” the female bartender said, citing the movie’s star as the integral reason for her lack of interest. A female patron next to me echoed her sentiments. They both began listing the troubling, problematic things the actor has done over the years: numerous arrests, allegations of harassing and assaulting women, calling people Nazis, straight-up saying they’re Jesus, Satan, and the next Messiah all wrapped up into one. (In fitting damage-control fashion, Miller issued an apology last August, citing “complex mental health issues” that they were seeking treatment for.)
Miller being a bad-news fixture is just the cherry on top of the humongous shit-sundae that has been the DC Extended Universe. From gloomy, depressing movies to boneheaded studio decisions (yeah, let’s have Joss Whedon finish up Justice League — what can go wrong?) to whatever the fuck Dwayne Johnson was trying to do with Black Adam, Warner Bros.’ attempt to go toe-to-toe with Disney and Marvel has become an ongoing failure, pissing off audiences and some of the stars and filmmakers who’ve worked on these films. Certain diehards don’t like the fact that James Gunn has been called in to preside over DC Studios and do a top-to-bottom overhaul. But you know damn well it needed to happen.
Before it does, Warner Bros. is finally bringing The Flash to theaters — and making sure Miller won’t be doing any publicity for it. (Since comic-book movies have always been more about spectacle than star power, Miller sitting out press junkets doesn’t seem that odd.) It’s basically this week’s multiverse movie, as our fast-as-lightning hero Barry Allen (Miller) discovers he can literally speed back into his own lifetime. Allen figures he can use his new time-traveling abilities not only to stop his mother (Maribel Verdu) from getting murdered, but to prevent his father (Ron Livingston) from going on trial for allegedly killing her.
Instead of him listening to his caped-crusader buddy Bruce Wayne (a very brief Ben Affleck), who tells him that could be, you know, catastrophic on so many levels, the little bastard does it anyway. Allen gets knocked into a whole other universe where his mom is still alive, but Superman is nowhere to be found. Plus, the Bruce Wayne of this world (welcome back, Michael Keaton!) is a retired recluse with a dusty Batcave. If that’s not enough, he comes into contact with another Barry Allen, who is something of a friggin’ idiot.
When Allen meets his lunkheaded variant, who actually ends up getting the original Allen’s superpowers, Flash becomes a convoluted buddy comedy. They eventually team up, trying to find ways to get the first Allen back to his time. But they also get a makeshift Justice League together, by roping in Batman (man, I didn’t know how much I missed seeing Keaton whoop ass!) and a mysterious, imprisoned woman (Sasha Calle) with Kryptonian powers, in an effort to stop a familiar foe, who coincidentally shows up to destroy the world.
As we wind down on the goings-on of this universe (Blue Beetle in August and the Aquaman sequel in December will be the final DC Extended Universe installments), it’s a relief that it’s at least going out on an entertaining note. And although Flash doesn’t really bring anything new to the cluttered table that is comic-book cinema, it works hard to make you forget about its star’s problems.
Miller does give a sympathetic performance as Allen (both of ‘em). Just as in Justice League, Miller plays Allen as nerdy, lippy, and incessantly awkward — a mascot in a skin-tight scarlet suit. The waifish Miller may have bulked up a bit to look all chiseled and shit, but still gives off a jittery, rubbery-limbed energy, especially during the more slapstick moments — and remains quick to shed a tear whenever Allen gets close to his mom.
Much like the lead character, Flash is a busy, smart-ass blur. Andy Muschietti of the It movies certainly gives us a lot of overcaffeinated CGI imagery, like the coliseum-like space — full of risers of revolving memories — Allen arrives at every time he speeds in time. Christina Hodson, screenwriter of Birds of Prey (aka the highest-grossing comic-book movie of 2020 — just accept it, nerds!), mined the drafts previously written by John Francis Daley, Jonathan Goldstein, and Joby Harold and came up with an endearing story that also has moments of maniacal action and meta fan service. (The physical/CGI cameos from past and present incarnations of DC superheroes make this the first DC movie that’s less for the comic book crowd and more for fans of the film and TV adaptations.)
If The Flash becomes a success, there’s a strong possibility people will overlook Miller’s past behavior and chalk it up as a young star trying (and failing) to dodge the pitfalls of fame. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. Back in the day, Robert Downey Jr. used to get high, break into people’s homes, and take a nap — and that happened between stints in jail. Then he became Iron Man and everyone forgot about that shit. Will Miller get back on everyone’s good graces the same way Downey did? Well, let’s see what happens after this weekend.
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