One of the laws of the universe is that everything that exists has a generation phase, stasis phase, degeneration phase, and destruction phase; in other words—growth and decay. It would appear that with “The Flash,” the superhero genre of cinema, already long in the degeneration phase, is finally headed for destruction.
The Marvel Cinematic Universe and its rival, the DC Extended Universe, are now only talking about ″multi-verses,″ which allows the studios to recycle old stories from new perspectives, putting out minimal effort to generate fresh ideas, while still raking in the maximal buck-aroonies.
The Flash
Among the superheroes in DC’s Metropolis is that red-suited Usain Bolt-like individual, known as the Flash, aka, junior forensics investigator Barry Allen (Miller). He likes to call himself “The janitor of the Justice League.”Showcasing his powers early is a scene featuring badly animated CGI babies falling out the windows of a crumbling hospital maternity ward, where the Flash slows everything way down by hopping supersonically around on the falling debris, catching babies. This type of slo-mo superpower depiction has been done so much more believably and humorously in the “X-Men” movies.
Now, the Flash, after inadvertently rending the space-time continuum, thanks to his superpower, decides to travel back in time to save his mom (Maribel Verdú), who was murdered in her kitchen (too graphically for PG-13), a crime for which Barry’s now-incarcerated dad (Ron Livingston) was framed.
Everyone knows, since “Back to the Future,” that you don’t mess with the space-time continuum, and of course Barry’s attempt to return to the present instead lands him in the same world as his non-stop-yakking 18-year-old stoner-bro self (also played by Miller).
Speaking of “Back to the Future,” in the particular time-space of the 18-year-old Flash,” all the films’ casts are different: Eric Stoltz played Marty McFly instead of Michael J. Fox, and Fox starred in “Footloose.” Also, Superman-saga Kryptonian General Zod (Michael Shannon) has returned to threaten planet earth.
Furthermore, this universe’s Batman is the original: Michael Keaton, who Barry-1 and Barry-2 is discovered in the Wayne Manor looking like Tom Hanks in “Castaway.” Keaton’s presence gives the film a smidgen of personality and gravitas. It doesn’t take long, however, for the fun of Keaton’s return to wear off; this movie clearly feels more is more, bombastically, and they’re soon off to Siberia to find Superman, apparently being held in a Russian containment facility. They find Superman’s little cousin Kara Zor-El (Sasha Calle) instead.
A Mess
The film has an appealing message, about not changing the past and recognizing the things that make us who we are, which is, er, a bit ironic, considering all the non-binary brouhaha wafting about, via the film’s main star.
Call me old-fashioned, but I grew up when comic book artists, anticipating the coming body-building craze, had every character in the Marvel and DC comics steroidal-ly jacked, testosterone-fueled, and traditionally manly. I appreciate that in the same the way I appreciate a 1969 Camaro with a powerfully configured V-8 engine.
For example, I’ve never liked the casting of any of the three skinny Spider-Man actors. As a former trainer, I feel the producers should have consulted a fitness coach about specificity—the spider-bod should be pure rockclimber; all that pulling, hauling, and grabbing should result in some truly epic lats (latissimus dorsi). Spider-Man should also have massive forearms, with all the grip-strength requirements in his line of work. Build a better Spidey-body, I say.
Did I mention there’s a very noticeable uptick in cursing and nudity? The Flash walking around butt-naked? Can you say “grooming?” One Epoch Times comment-section commenter recently commented that no self-respecting news publication should recommend R-rated movies. He’s not wrong. It’s getting to the point where we shouldn’t recommend PG-13 either. The global moral dye-vat darkens daily due to the deluge of demonic detritus.
