The Media Tourist

DC’s fleet-footed superhero finally gets his own flick, but another actor nearly steals the show

The Flash
Starring Ezra Miller, Michael Keaton, Ben Affleck & Sasha Calle
Directed by Andy Muschietti
PG-13

In theaters Friday, July 16

For a movie about the speediest superhero ever, The Flash took its slow, sweet time getting here.

Discussion about a standalone movie for the popular DC Comics character began in the 1980s but stalled and dead-ended many times over the decades, with various directors, writers and actors becoming attached and then detached. Finally, Ezra Miller (from The Perks of Being a Wallflower) was cast, making ramp-up appearances in a handful of interconnected, big-screen “DC Extended Universe” romps, including The Justice League, Suicide Squad and Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.

Now the fleet-footed, red-suited dasher finally gets his own full-blown flick. How fast is the Flash, the alter ego of the guy named Barry Allen? Well, he runs so freaking fast, some crazy, far-out things can happen. And even when he’s not running, he’s moving fast—he can make the molecules in his body vibrate at such unimaginable velocity, they maneuver around other molecules and then rearrange, letting him pass through solid objects. He’s so fast, he’s faster than time; and he finds out that when you outrun the speed of light, time-traveling can be a real head trip.

When the Flash goes back in time, it unhinges nearly everything, affecting the present and the future—you know, the old Butterfly Effect. He encounters an alternative version of himself and multiple incarnations of Batman (hello, Michael Keaton, Ben Affleck and another well-known actor whose cameo I won’t spoil). There’s the return of a nasty supervillain bent on humanity’s annihilation; Superman’s cousin (Sasha Calle), Supergirl, gets in on the action; Wonder Woman (Gal Godot) also shows up. And yet another DC superhero splashes around in the after-credits coda. There’s a swirling time-loop metaverse carousel, in which just about everyone in the DC pantheon show ups; who’s your favorite Superman? And Barry is surprised to learn his Butterfly Effect even means that someone other than Michael J. Fox has become Marty McFly in Back to the Future.   

The Flash is a jubilantly overcrowded, hyper-bloated superhero sci-fi carnival ride that gives a flip, fun, wildly inventive spin to the ol’ comicdom nostalgia wheel. It’s got a boatload of superstar cameos, overlapping timelines and a gleefully bombastic smorgasbord blowout of boom-boom-y, bang-bangy CGI spectacle. At the screening I attended, in a jam-packed theater where every seat was occupied, three giddy fanboys directly in front of me were so amped by things they were seeing, I thought they might pee their pants. Heck, they probably did.

There are some genuinely bravo sequences, like the dazzling 15-minute opener in which the Flash zip-zaps around saving babies tumbling out the window in a high-rise hospital catastrophe. (A “baby shower,” get it?) Director Andy Muschetti (whose other films include the psychological horror tale Mama, with Jessica Chastain, and two It scare fests) inventively depicts the mind-warping speed at which Flash can zoom, superheating the air around him with what looks like a kajillion volts of sizzling electricity. There are plenty of knowing nods, in-jokes and callbacks for diehard DC fans. One of the side effects of timeline tweaking and metaverse hopping is how a character (like Michael Shannon’s megalomaniacal General Zod) can be dispatched or destroyed in a previous movie, but fully alive and creating more comic-book havoc in another. (Don’t try to overthink it; it’s a thing.) And I particularly liked a comedic moment when Batman gets tangled in Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth.

The plot swirls around twenty-something Barry trying to prevent the death of his mother (a wonderful Maribel Verdú), which happened when he was a child, causing the wrongful incarceration of his father (Ron Livingston, a few miles on down the road from Office Space). It also involves a trip to icy Siberia, where Clark Kent/Superman is supposedly being held prisoner by terrorists. And pasta plays a key role, in a pivotal (recurring) event as well as a scene in which it’s used to explain how time itself is flexible, not linear, and can bend, overlap and interloop, like wiggly spaghetti noodles in bowl.

Ironically in a movie called The Flash, about the Flash, and with Ezra Miller pulling double duty (as two versions of the character), it’s someone else that damn near steals the show. Fans whooped as Michael Keaton dons the Dark Knight’s cloak for the first time since 1992 and swoops in to become an essential part of the story. I must say, it’s supercool to see the Batmobile, the Batplane and the Batcycle roaring into action out of the ol’ Batcave again. And Sasha Collie (who got her start on TV’s The Young and the Restless) gives a fine, fierce—and memorably strong—performance as a broody, totally kick-ass Supergirl.   

There’s also a bit of heart and a pithy mantra about how some problems can’t be solved, even by time-traveling superheroes. “The scars we have make us who we are,” Batman tells the Flash. “Don’t relive your past; live your life.”

Speaking of problems and scars, Ezra Miller has a few, including relatively recent arrests for disorderly conduct and assault. The actor—who identifies as nonbinary and uses gender-neutral pronouns—has also admitted to mental health issues, been charged with harassment and accused of grooming. As good as Miller has been in supporting roles as the Flash, and now with his own movie, there’s been some buzz that DC might not want him—oops, I mean them—for future projects.

So, the Flash might be super speedy, but it might not be fast enough, or go far enough, to outdistance Miller’s troubled past—which might become the one thing that can catch up with a superhero who can outrun just about anything.

FUN FACT: In Steven Spielberg’s Catch Me If You Can, Leonardo DiCaprio’s crafty teenage forger and impersonator cheekily uses the pseudonym of Barry Miller—because if anyone can keep ahead of the FBI agent (Tom Hanks) always hot on his trail, it would be the Flash. 

—Neil Pond

Julia Louis-Dreyfus spins comedy gold in this yarn of New York neurotics

You Hurt My Feelings
Starring Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Tobias Menzies, Michaela Watkins & Arian Moayed
Directed by Nicole Holofcener
Rated R

In theaters Friday, May 26

Neurotic New Yorkers ride out self-doubts, snubs and disappointments in the latest film from Nicole Holofcener, a director weaned on the comedies of Woody Allen.

A native New Yorker herself, Holofcener grew up as the daughter of a set decorator for Allen’s Big Apple-centric films. She appeared as an extra in a couple and eventually became a production assistant and editor for others before going on to make her own, including the critically acclaimed Enough Said and Can You Ever Forgive Me?

It’s no surprise she’s so attuned—like Allen—to what makes a certain sector of New York, and New Yorkers, tick and tock.

You Hurt My Feelings stars Julia Louis-Dreyfus as Beth, a writer whose writing isn’t going so well. Her memoir was a modest success, but she can’t stir up much interest in her latest work, a novel. Her agent tells her it’s tough out there in today’s literary world, with so many “new voices” competing to be heard.

Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Tobias Menzies star as married New York professionals.

That makes Beth feel like “an old voice,” she dejectedly tells her therapist husband, Don (Tobias Menzies, who played Prince Phillip on Netflix’s The Crown). He’s undergoing a bit of life crisis of his own, fretting about his sagging face and his lost youth, and he’s been getting a bit confused about which of his patients go with what problems. One bickering married duo he’s counseling (the real-life couple of David Cross and Amber Tamblyn) tells him he’s been wasting their time and their money, and they demand a refund. Maybe he’s not the therapist he thought he was.

David Cross and Amber Tamblyn play a bickering married couple.

Beth worries that their grown son (Owen Teague) isn’t fulfilling his potential working in a cannabis store with a bunch of slacker potheads. She doesn’t feel any better about his situation when she’s in the store and it gets robbed.

Meanwhile, Beth’s sister, Sarah (Michaela Watkins), is weary of her job as an interior designer catering to uber-persnickety patrons. Sarah’s husband, Mark (Arian Moayed), is a struggling actor whose self-esteem has just taken a big hit.  

Left: Arian Moayed and Michaela Watkins

All these mini crises intersect and come to a head when Beth overhears a remark made by her hubs to his brother-in-law, Mark, that he doesn’t really think her writing is, well, all that good. Suddenly, Beth’s whole world seems to implode. How could he betray her like that? Was Don lying all those times when he encouraged her as a writer and tried to be supportive? It makes her want to throw up on the sidewalk, but she’s too upset to even do that. Eventually, feelings get hurt all around.

This is the kind of small, grown-up movie that not a lot of studios make anymore—a subtle slice-of-life comedy with a small group of characters that feel like real people, in places that look authentically lived-in, instead of fabricated movie sets. It’s full of little micro details that might seem insignificant, but everything rings true, drawing us closer to the characters and providing connective tissue to their wobbly world—an obscenely overpriced hand-crafted bench, a doctor’s explanation of her new “concierge” fee, a wall of exotic socks, a wastebasket that never seems to get emptied, a blouse donated to the homeless that the donor later decides she wants back. It’s sharp and funny and sweet, and keenly observant about how couples and friends may tell little lies to each other—and themselves—and not even realize it. But they continue to love and live, and life goes on.

All the characters are immensely likeable and relatable. And the cast is tremendous, especially Louis-Dreyfus, the Seinfeld veteran whose finely tuned comedy chops can adapt to almost any situation. (I love how she turns a box of bakery doughnuts into a running gag.) It’s no wonder director Holofcener wanted to work with her again after Enough Said, in which JLD starred alongside James Gandolfini, Toni Collette, Catherine Keener and Ben Falcone. Michaela Watkins was also in that movie, too.

Speaking of Seinfeld, that show also revolved around neurotic, self-centered New Yorkers, and it routinely took little things and made big deals out of them—a puffy shirt, getting lost in a parking garage, waiting for a table at a Chinese restaurant, muffin tops, fusilli. Even though it’s miles away from the crazily calibrated absurdity and goofiness of the TV series, there’s undeniably something Seinfeld-ian about this movie, in which little problems ripple into a wider sea of anxieties, and four central New Yorkers flail and flop around in it all.

Like Seinfeld, and like Woody Allen, You Hurt My Feelings understands how to find the funny in human frailty and foibles, and how to navigate the comically uneven—and sometimes messy—sidewalks of life, all the while with a knowing smile.

—Neil Pond

Going ‘under the sea’ with Disney’s latest live-action version of an animated classic

The Little Mermaid
Starring Halle Bailey, Melissa McCarthy, Jonah Hauer-King and Javier Bardem
Directed by Rob Marshall
Rated PG

In theaters Friday, May 26

Disney’s beloved fish-out-of-water tale makes a splashy return in this highly anticipated live-action, all-star remake about a spunky aqua teen who longs to be part of the human world.

Like its 1989 animated predecessor, it’s based loosely on a 19^th century Danish fairy tale by Hans Christian Anderson. But mermaids—half human, half fish—were swimming around the far-flung pools of pop culture for centuries before that, and the new movie taps into the ancient fantasy and fascination with these alluring mythical creatures and their addictive siren song, which can supposedly lure sailors to doom and death.

It becomes the latest in Disney’s modern-era march of revisionist cinema since the 1990s, putting live actors alongside hi-tech digital effects for remakes of its “cartoon” movies, including Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Dumbo, 101 Dalmatians, The Lion King and Mulan.

And it also becomes one of the best.

Newcomer Halle Bailey is Ariel, fascinated with what goes on above sea’s surface, a place she is forbidden to go by her hyper-protective father, King Titan (Javier Bardem). But when curiosity gets the best of her and she pokes her head out of the waves for a peek, she ends up rescuing a young prince (Jonah Hauer-King) from drowning during a dramatic nighttime shipwreck, hauling the unconscious seafarer onto a beach and serenading him before disappearing again into the water.

That sets things into high gear, as Prince Eric tries to reconnect with the alluring mystery creature that saved his life and Ariel makes a deal with the conniving sea witch Ursula (Melissa McCarthy) to trade her tailfin for feet. But there’s a catch: Ariel must give up her enchanted siren-song voice and share a kiss of “true love” with Eric within three days, or she’ll be consigned to the depths of the ocean forever.

Melissa McCarthy is Ursula

Comic relief is provided by the flappy, yappy seagull Scuttle (voiced, in a gender switch from the previously animated role, by Awkwafina) and the crab Sebastian (Daveed Diggs), a loyal attendant in the royal court of King Triton. Jacob Tremblay (from Room) is the voice of the little sidekick fish Flounder.

Broadway virtuoso Lin-Manuel Miranda (one of the film’s dozen producers) wrote three new songs and tweaked the lyrics of a couple of others (“Kiss the Girl” and “Poor Unfortunate Souls”) for the new movie, reflecting a commendable next-gen sensitivity to issues of female empowerment and consent. But unless you’re a Little Mermaid superfan, and you’re paying super close attention, you might not even notice—or care that a couple of other tunes in the animated version (“Les Poissons” and “Daughters of Triton”) got the hook.

But you will thrill to the movie’s well-known, iconic soundtrack standouts, given tremendous new zap as underwater, computer-enhanced, razzly-dazzly production numbers—reflecting not only Miranda’s buoyant Broadway roots, but also those of director Rob Marshall, a former theatrical producer and choreographer who went on to make music-filled movies including Chicago, Into the Woods and Mary Poppins Returns. “Under the Sea” is a joyous, calypso-flavored aqua chorus line, with dozens of dancing, prancing sea critters; “Part of Your World” gets new emotionally enhanced wallop and human resonance.

And you’ll be rocked by the stupendous performance by 23-year-old Halle Bailey. The Grammy-nominated pop singer and TV actor (from Grown-ish) gives a star-making movie turn as a splendid Disney princess-to-be who makes you feel the heartfelt tug of her big dreams of discovering what’s out there—and up there. Melissa McCarthy practically steals the show as Ursula, hamming it up with a flourish of florescent octopus tentacles, cackling over her bubbling cauldron of sinister spells and plotting to take over the undersea world. English actor Hauer-King has a bit of resemblance to Ryan Gosling, making me drift away for a couple of fanciful moments thinking about The Little Mermaid going ashore in La La Land. And Javier Bardem, so menacing in No Country for Old Men, looks regally right-on as a bearded, bad-ass, big-kahuna submariner.

It’s about a couple of young people falling in love, of course—in a risky, forbidden, boundary-crossing inter-species relationship, with disapproving parental figures. Think Romeo and Juliet, tossed in the tide and spritzed with ocean mist. The new Little Mermaid leans into its timely theme of cultural differences and societal riffs, as both merfolk and humans inherently distrust, and even hate what’s on the other side of the thin membrane of “border” that separates them.  

But hey, let’s don’t get heavy. Dive into this new Mermaid, a delightful, thoroughly entertaining, refreshingly impressive upgrade, a terrific new take on an animated classic, respectful to the Disney original but with vibrant new jolts of movie magic, drama, danger, spectacle, joy, yearning, wit and romance.

Plus an important mega-message for little girls and young women everywhere and anywhere: In the water, on the land, in a seashell or a castle—like Ariel, if you can dream it, you can do it.

This summer, is everything really “better down where it’s wetter”? So far, yes, it is!

—Neil Pond

Marvel’s cosmic misfits return for an overstuffed blowout farewell party

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3
Starring Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave Baustista, Karen Gillan & Will Poulter
Directed by James Gunn
PG-13

In theaters Friday, May 5, 2023

The gang’s all here as Marvel’s motley crew of cosmic outlaws closes out their movie trilogy with a bang in a daring dash to save one of their own. This big, bold rousing finish (supposedly) is the overcrowded end of the franchise, which began nearly a decade ago and now hinges on the backstory of Rocket, the genetically modified wisecracking racoon (voiced again by Bradley Cooper).

The Guardians quip, banter and rip across the universe, encountering an array of bizarro cyborg critters and a crazed despot (Shakespearean actor Chuckwudi Iwuji, deliciously, devilishly nasty) intent on creating a new, perfected world—and discarding all his “mistakes” along the way.

Vol. 3 throws a lot at the screen—a barrage of digital effects, a who’s who of characters and a dense stream of details. If you haven’t been along for the ride from the beginning, paying attention through the other Guardians flicks, the events of The Avengers and the interwoven connectedness of the broader Marvel Cinematic Universe, well, good luck. You might not understand how the green-skinned Gamora (Zoe Saldana), who died in a previous movie, can show up again, and have no memory that she and Guardians leader Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) were once lovey-dovey.

As diehard Marvel fans know, there’s always the chance of new beginnings and redo’s, thanks to time warps, Infinity Stones and other comic-book shenanigans.

Just about everyone is aboard for this way-out wrap party. There’s Drax the Destroyer (former wrestler Dave Bautista); Gamora’s sister Nebula (Karen Gillan); Mantis (Pom Klementieff), whose enhanced ability for empathy comes in handy. Groot, the size-shifting, virtually indestructible humanoid tree, is voiced again by Vin Diesel, even though he grunts only one thing (“I am Groot”) over and over.

Look: There’s Sylvester Stallone, back again! And Elizabeth Debicki! Will Poulter makes the movie debut of a golden-hued, artificially fashioned space super-dude, Adam Warlock, whose comic-book roots go back to the 1960s. And Cosmo the telepathic dog has a new voice—it’s Bulgarian actress Maria Bakalova, who got an Oscar nomination for playing Borat’s daughter in Borat Subsequent Moviefilm. Returning director James Gunn’s brother, Sean, also returns as a humanoid alien with a mohawk fin on his head and a whistle-controlled arrow in his quiver.

There more than a few space-age shootouts with all kinds of zappers and blasters, and even a high-tech version of an old standby, the hand grenade. But nothing blows up like the heated moment when one of characters drops the F-bomb, marking an onscreen first for a Marvel movie.

At one point, the Guardians plop down in a comically mutated surburbia that looks like Ozzie and Harriett spliced with The Twilight Zone. Is that Howard the Duck, the waterfowl star of Marvel’s first feature-length theatrical movie (1986), playing a card game? Be quick or you’ll miss a visual shoutout to Alf, the sitcom space alien. To top it all off, there’s a climactic rescue of a bunch of cute kids, who look like ragged theater waifs abandoned after being worked to the bone in back-to-back productions of Cats and Les Miserable.

It’s a mega-movie loaded with wildly colorful characters, oddball creatures, monsters and cuddly pets, loads of whimsy and jokes, bursts of dramatic intensity, lushly detailed world-building and ka-boomy blasts of explosive, expensive-looking, sometimes chaotic action. But there’s also a surprising amount of emotional heft and heart, particularly in the sentimental swell of Rocket’s early days when he was experimentally bioengineered alongside other “altered” caged animals. If those TV PSAs for animal-cruelty prevention really get to you, you’ll be wrecked by watching what went down with Rocket and his penned-in pals. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  

And you’ll certainly tap your toes to the soundtrack, a highly curated playlist loaded once again with scene-appropriate tunes by the Flaming Lips, Heart, Faith No More, Alice Cooper, the Beastie Boys, Florence and the Machine, Bruce Springsteen and X. The movie opens, fittingly, with Radiohead’s “Creep”—and Rocket muttering along to the lyrics, about being a self-loathing “freak” and “weirdo”—and closes with a bouncy, upbeat Poco tune that will be familiar to fans of the first movie, back in 2014.

If this is, indeed, the final Guardians mission, they go down swinging (and swearing!). But rest assured, you’ll be seeing these characters—or some of them, anyway—in other Marvel projects, in some form or another. This may be a goodbye, but these Marvel space seeds were also engineered to grow, made to be movie perennials, sewn to sprout—to regenerate like the roots and branches of Groot—over and over, returning again and again.

—Neil Pond