'The Flash' in a Pan

The allure of the multiverse is in its wild possibilities. In theory, it gives storytellers infinite space to let their imaginations overgrow with experimentation and curiosity, to let dead ends become backdoors onto new vistas. Every fantasy, every whim, every fancy becomes a direction in which they can spin the narrative. But as Hollywood has grown more enamored with the concept of a multiverse, the limitations of a poorly structured one have become more apparent. In The Flash — directed by Andy Muschietti with a script credited to Christina Hodson — there are only dead ends. A space once infinite is crowded with obvious brand-extension ploys that divert only temporarily from the crushing weight of our present reality and ultimately strand viewers in a story uninterested in anything resembling humanity. Despite its tangled behind-the-scenes history — directors jumping from the project as if it were the Titanic, the escalating legal issues of its star — the film is remarkably banal. It’s a deteriorating rest stop on the road to nowhere.