Ezra Miller | Bouquets & Brickbats

14/06/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

If Marvel Studios are having a thin time of things lately, spare a thought for DC, who have long struggled to establish a coherent onscreen presence for their cohort of superheroes and seem to feel obliged to put Batman into just about every film they produce. Flash is no exception to this rule. As for its titular hero, the producers must have been tearing their hair out when Ezra Miller’s off-screen controversy threatened to blow the whole project out of the water before it even got off the starting blocks. But here it finally is and, largely by virtue of not taking itself too seriously, it’s more entertaining than most of the recent comic book-inspired movies I’ve recently witnessed.

Barry Allen/The Flash (Miller) is managing to strut his stuff around the city, but is mostly playing second fiddle to everybody’s favourite hero, Batman (Ben Affleck). An opening sequence where The Flash saves a series of babies falling from a collapsing building sets the stall out well. But like most superheroes, Barry is haunted by something dark in his past – in his case, the murder of his mother, Nora (Maribel Verdú), a crime for which Barry’s father is currently serving time in prison, though Barry is convinced of his innocence. When Barry discovers that, by running at a particular speed, he can time travel, he hits on the idea of going into the past and changing one small detail, in order to save his mother’s life.

Before you can mutter ‘space time continuum’ the deed is done and suddenly everything is weirdly different. Barry meets his younger, goofier self, reconnects with an entirely different Batman (played once again by Michael Keaton) and learns that Eric Stoltz is now the lead actor in Back To the Future, a clever running gag that’s used to great effect. More worryingly, Barry has now lost his powers and needs to rekindle them if he is ever going to get back to his own time.

And he really needs to because, thanks to Barry’s time-tinkering, General Zod (Michael Shannon) is back, intent on destroying the entire planet…

Look, set down like that, it does sound like utter piffle, but Flash manages to play it all with real panache, thanks to Andy Muschietti’s assured direction and a witty script by Christina Hodson and Joby Harold. It’s only in the final third, that – predictably – the film begins to sag under the weight of its own hubris. The usual apocalyptic punch-up ensues and I can’t help reflecting that, where Across the Spider-Verse managed to juggle literally hundreds of manifestations of its lead character without ever becoming muddled, Flash‘s attempt to do something similar with the character of Superman just becomes incomprehensible. Supergirl (Sasha Calle) is also a player in this film but, apart from supplying a kind of get-out clause when everything is beyond salvation, she remains disappointingly 2D.

Still, there’s a satisfying conclusion to it all and a likeable final joke to send me on my way with a smile on my face. And if you ever wondered what Nicholas Cage’s Superman would have looked like, had it ever got off the ground, here’s your chance to find out.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

24/11/17

After a massive jump in the right direction with Wonder Woman, DC, with director Zack Snyder at the helm, take ten supersteps backwards with Justice League. Where WW was a breezy soufflé packed with humour and cheesy romance, JL takes itself incredibly seriously and this, most of all, is what makes it a terrible thing to behold.

At the start of the film, Superman (Henry Cavill) is dead – don’t worry, this isn’t a spoiler – and Batman (Ben Affleck) is feeling the weight of trying to fill those size 11 superhero boots. He’s also rather perturbed by the appearance in Gotham City of some weird winged beasties, which he assumes are of extra terrestrial origin. With this in mind, he sets about assembling a crack team of superheroes with the idea of defending the planet from these new arrivals. The team comprises Wonder Woman (Gal Gadot), Aquaman (Jason Momoa – for best results just add water), the Flash (Ezra Miller, the film’s best component by a country mile) and Cyborg (Ray Fisher), a man/machine affair, who appears to have been assembled by committee.

The threat to life as we know it comes from Steppenwolf – not the 70s rock band who recorded Born To Be Wild (who actually weren’t that bad in retrospect), but a great big dude in a horned helmet, voiced by Ciaran Hinds, who – in the best DC tradition – speaks like he’s swallowed a bottle of Rohypnol and who, you just know, would be a really dull drinking companion. He commands the weird winged beasties, The Parademons, who remind me, more than anything else, of the flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz. For reasons best known to himself, Steppenwolf is trying to locate three magical boxes in order to bring about the destruction of the world as we know it, ushering in Doomsday. Why? Good question. I guess it’s just what big dudes in horned helmets feel they need to do. But why do they have to be so damned earnest about it?

Inevitably, what it all comes down to is yet another seemingly endless cosmic punch up, brilliantly rendered by the technical team, but incredibly dull and completely lacking in any sense of danger, since everyone involved is seemingly incapable of being seriously injured; even Batman, who we are repeatedly reminded is a mere mortal, seems to survive being thrown though buildings and automobiles without incurring more than a few token bruises. As I mentioned, Miller’s sparky turn as a nervy, possibly autistic young wannabe is the only element that offers any light relief in this maelstrom of misery, but his offerings are too occasional to lift this more than a few centimetres out of the doldrums.

Just when it appears that Steppenwolf is actually getting the upper hand, somebody comes to the aid of the team. Who is it? I’ll give you three guesses.

I know there are many out there who like their DC done with gravitas – and the three Christopher Nolan Batman movies are testament to the fact that it can work in the right hands. But sadly, those hands are not Zach Snyder’s, and this is a turgid, bloated train-wreck of a movie, that will surely have all but the most committed DC diehards turning up their noses.

1.5 stars

Philip Caveney