Hey, Flash, Read This

Ezra Miller as the Flash times two, and Sasha Calli as Kara El, a.k.a. Supergirl

 

Social media pundits bashed The Flash even before it opened, for reasons to do with schisms at Warner Brothers and extra-curricular activities of its young star Ezra Miller. If the actor's feeling down about all that, here's a pick-me-up aimed right at Ezra Miller, who perfectly embodied the charming vision of the director and writers:

Ezra, as Barry Allen, a.k.a. the Flash, you twitch with nerves, your eyes scan others' faces for social cues, and you're flummoxed when a substitute barista throws off your morning routine. Before you run at super-speed, you go through a wind-up ritual that's part Kung-fu, part Speedy Gonzales. When you blurt out what's on your mind (because, Wonder Woman's magic lasso), you say, "I know there's such a thing as sex but I've never experienced it." You have no friends except the super-hero celebrities whom you call by their first names (Clark, Bruce, Diana...) the way a freshman waterboy might drop the names of seniors on the team. You're as funny and lovable as any of the kids I taught in middle school who had great talent and no social skills.

You do find a friend, thanks to time-travel and movie technology. He's you, a couple years younger, and he's as geeky as you. You tell him, "People are always asking me to shut up, and now I know why." Like you, he's a slob. But in his alternate universe, he knows nothing of the tragedy that has shaped your life -- the murder of his/your mother and the wrongful conviction of his/your father for the crime. Growing up with two loving parents, he has the confidence you lack, and friends, young women among them. Innocent of the pain you've experienced, he flips out when he experiences loss. That's you, too, and it's very affecting.

So, too, is your emotional crisis when you encounter your mother (Maribel Verdu) on the day she will die. Her tenderness to you, a young man, a stranger to her, is at the heart of this movie -- though it happens in a supermarket. Her fate turns on whether or not she remembers to pick up spaghetti sauce for dinner.

Spaghetti shows up again in Batman's kitchen. Michael Keaton as Bruce Wayne uses pasta to explain the multi-verse to you. Time isn't linear like the uncooked pasta he hands to you. He dumps cooked spaghetti in a bowl and says, the multi-verse is like that: some strands run almost parallel, while others intersect at different points. Dumping sauce on top, Wayne says your effort to change only one thing in the past has created "a hot mess." Listening as Barry and Barry the younger, you are clueless and more clueless. When Keaton adds cheese, you have to explain to your younger self, "the metaphor is over." Of all the explanations of the multi-verse I've seen in the last couple of years (Everything Everywhere..., Spider-man, and even Barbie), this was the most fun. Props to the writer Christina Hodson for using just words with the props at hand in the kitchen, and props to you, you, and Keaton for making it funny.

I enjoy how you and the creatives imagine the Flash's response to an explosion at a high-rise hospital. You climb falling debris like a ladder to study the mayhem. You see nine newborns hurtling from the top floor, along with knives, broken glass, a microwave oven, a service dog that looks like he's having fun, a gurney, and a screaming nurse. At first, you look bewildered.

Let's pause a moment to note that critics -- even one who admits he only saw the trailer -- cite this scene for its "bad CGI." The babies especially don't look real. But I understand the distortions to be how things look to a guy who perceives at the speed of light. Besides, one of the babies does look just fine, smiling and clearly delighted with free-fall -- the director's child, if I read the credits correctly.

Back to the moment: I like that we're watching you formulate your response and that you smile before you jump into action. I like that your first priority is breakfast: from the microwave, you pluck a burrito and devour it -- at light-speed, we guess. Then you manipulate all the other pieces into place like an extravagant Rube-Goldberg contraption so that babies, dog, and nurse line up safely in a row. Rescue with flair. You even take a bow.

I'm sorry that I seem to be the only one to applaud. I hope you get your life and career back together.