The Flash (2023)

Director: Andy Muschietti

Cast: Ezra Miller, Sasha Calle, Ron Livingston, Michael Keaton

Have I Seen it Before: No.

Did I Like It: Quick question before we begin: Exactly how fast would I fave to run to be able to go back in time to 2018 and stop myself from writing a review of every movie I watch? Asking for a friend. Who is also me.

There’s so much to cover in this review, and I’m a little bit dreading getting into it. I feel like not addressing everything about the film would be worse than if I missed something with almost any other film. Both a monolith of controversy and (as I write this well into opening weekend) something that looks as if it will fail to fully capture the audience’s imagination. On a personal level it has promised both a shopping list of what I’ve wanted out of superhero films for a number of years, and been a repeated source of frustration. To put it simply, the film is slippery from this critic’s perspective.

Is Ezra Miller a serial abuser shielded by the possibly impenetrable privilege of being white and a movie star at the same time? Or do they struggle with any number of mental health problems exacerbated by sensational tabloid stories orbiting around them? Or is it both? I really don’t know. Plenty of people have refused to go see the movie as they reckon with those questions. I’m not bothered by anyone coming to that conclusion. I can only hope those people aren’t too terribly bothered that I decided to go see the movie, or that I’m going through all of these mental gymnastics to get me in the theater. But then again, I may have to accept it if they are.

This film is largely an engine of crowd-pleasing. Well, maybe not crowd pleasing, but there is quite a bit about it that seems designed to engender good will from me. It’s a time-travel comedy that owes as much to Batman (1989) as it does to Back to the Future (1985). For the few minutes in which it is a Justice League film, it’s easily DC’s breeziest, most enjoyable effort in that arena. Ben Affleck has two scenes in the film, and he makes the most out of them, even if his final scenes in the cowl are among several scenes with some rushed special effects*.

Which brings us to the Keaton of it all. On some level, I’ve wanted Michael Keaton to return to the role of Batman since I was ten. There were years where I would have said I definitely wanted it when it wasn’t even a possibility. And now, with all of the Twilight Zone-style monkey’s paw qualities of this film, I got my wish. For my money, he is really great in the film, channeling a lot of the same energy he brought to the earlier films. His Bruce Wayne spent two entire films avoiding people like the plague, so hermit-Bruce feels like a natural extension a

And then, they go ahead and kill him. Not only do they go ahead and kill him, but when Barry manages to reset the timeline one more time after accepting that he can’t save Batman (or, for that matter Kara Zor-El/Supergirl (Calle, who the film wildly underserves), the Bruce Wayne of that universe is… I can’t believe I’m typing this… played by George Clooney.

And I’m fine with it, actually. No, really. If you had pitched me in year’s past a movie where Keaton’s Batman dies and Clooney’s Batman lives, I would have not been in favor of that movie. It’s clear an alternate ending was filmed where Keaton (or a variation of him) was once again the Batman of the main DC film universe, but that would have flown against the film’s heart, even if it means that not just Batman and Supergirl, but the entirety of Earth-89 are sacrificed to General Zod (Michael Shannon, bored but I don’t blame him as the film gives him only moments from Man of Steel (2013) to replay).

Just as Barry has to let his mother and his control over the universe go, I’ve got to let my favorite Batman go. There’s probably a few things I need to let go of, but none of us need me to convert this review into an ad hoc therapy session. That’s the lesson the movie wants to give me, I think, if you look through all the (frequently cameo-filled) noise.

Oh, one more thing. If you think this is the best superhero movie of all time, I think that may mean you need to watch more movies. That’s okay. There’s plenty of time, and plenty of methods to watch them.

* Everyone is so irretrievably bothered by some of the special effects, as if Muschietti wasn’t also the guy who made <IT - Chapter Two (2019)>. Dodgy CGI is the guy’s aesthetic.

Gung Ho (1986)

Director: Ron Howard

Cast: Michael Keaton, Gedde Watanabe, George Wendt, Mimi Rogers

Have I Seen it Before: Actually, I don’t think I have. Odd, I know. I would have thought that Clean and Sober (1988) is the only Keaton film I had managed to avoid, and that’s mainly because I had heard it was a stone-cold bummer. Maybe I’ll come around to it eventually.

Did I Like It: Right from the outset, you’re probably anticipating that I’m going to give this movie more credit than it might be worth, and you might be right. Had anybody else played the role of Hunt Stevenson, the thorough blandness of the film might have been unavoidable. The film isn’t quite funny enough for a Bill Murray. It’s also not quite edgy enough for an Eddie Murphy*. With Keaton, he’s able to be just relatable enough (while also seeming like he could become unglued at any minute) that I enjoyed the film despite itself. There’s also plenty to be said for a film that gives Gedde Watanabe the opportunity to be something more than the caricature he’s most famous for in films like Sixteen Candles (1984) and UHF (1989). 

And yet, there is still that blandness at its core. It attempts to be a Capra film or a new age (which itself feels quaint), but between every technical choice throughout the film, the entire affair is so dated, one needs only look at a few scant seconds of it without any other context to guess when it was made. I would say that Howard was so committed to the ambition of proving himself as a director outside of his notoriety as a child star that he forgot to get much of a POV. I’d say that he grew out of that once people started forgetting about Opie, but even his best films betray a journeyman quality to his work.

*A quick search indicates both turned down the role.

Johnny Dangerously (1984)

Director: Amy Heckerling

Cast: Michael Keaton, Joe Piscopo, Marilu Henner, Peter Boyle

Have I Seen it Before: I can reach into memories of the distant past to a screening on cable. Is this the last movie I saw for the first time on cable? I certainly can say that I’m probably never going to see another movie for the first time on cable. It’s almost sad...

Did I Like It: I think I’m under an obligation—with the amount of writing I’ve done about the films of Michael Keaton—to say that I unequivocally do like the film.

And yet...

Everyone here (yes, even Piscopo) feels like they’re working against their strengths. In an attempt to be a Mel Brooks/ZAZ-esque take on gangster films of the, Amy Heckerling feels more at home with the more grounded comedies that made up the eventual highs of her career in Clueless (1995) and Fast Time At Ridgemont High (1982). That’s not a terribly bad mark against her as a director, as the ZAZ team eventually became involved in hum-drum fare like Mafia! (1998) and things so foul on spec, they’re not even worth watching in the first place, like An American Carol (2008). Even Brooks whiffed out in the end. Dracula: Dead and Loving It (1995) was certainly a sour end. Hell, plenty of people like Robin Hood: Men In Tights (1993) and Spaceballs (1987) but neither have ever done much for me.

I’m stalling, I know. Is Keaton any good in the film? It’s always a delight to see him, but he’s playing the role largely straight here, with none of the anarchic qualities that introduced him to movie audiences in Night Shift (1982) and he perfected in Beetlejuice (1988). It’s hard to say that I don’t particularly care for a Michael Keaton picture, but if I’m not laughing, and he’s distressingly bland in the whole thing, it’s hard not to confront reality.

Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) (2014)

Director: Alejandro G. Iñárritu

Cast: Michael Keaton, Zach Galifanakis, Edward Norton, Emma Stone

Have I Seen it Before: I mean, with the Keaton Quotient (tm) alone, you knew I was going to be there as soon as it came to the local art house theater.

Did I Like It: There’s something stealthy about the appeal of this film. A film is about the state of the current state of the American stage and celebrity. It weaves in a pointedly honest depiction of mental illness with the fiction of Raymond Carver. How would such heady material be able to not only zero in on a wide audience, but end up with the Academy Award?

Well, it certainly helps that it has the cultural oddity of Keaton starring as a role only he could, that of an aging movie star whose biggest claim to fame was being walking away from a major superhero franchise in the 1990s.

It sure worked on me. The film makes fun of the people that adore Thomson for his past glories, and, well... It me. And a bunch of those types of people (again, read: me) don’t have a sense of humor about themselves. They should. We’re ridiculous.

And if the film weren’t as successful as it were, then it might feel like a bait and switch. Equal parts audacious and clever, the mere fact that the film is able to simulate the entire affair taking place in one shot would be enough to recommend it. But if it were more traditionally shot, and didn’t feature one of my favorite film actors goofing on himself, then the film would still be worth a watch. Maybe purveyors of pop culture shouldn’t reach for artistic excellence, as some of the characters in the film suggest. I just like that I can go see something that advertises itself as a superhero film, and get a little bit extra for my ticket/blu ray purchase.

Plus, I have a working theory that owing to the cathartic experience of this film, Keaton warmed up to the idea of returning to superhero films, thus the delight of Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) and the coming wonder that is his return as the Caped Crusader, which if you’ve been reading this space over the last several years, that has been my raison d’ete du cinema.

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

Director: Jon Watts

Cast: Tom Holland, Michael Keaton, Robert Downey Jr., Zendaya

Have I Seen it Before: Absolutely.

Did I Like It: I think it’s pretty perfect.

And, no, that’s not just because Michael Keaton is actually in the movie.

It’s a little bit about that, but there are other things, too.

Let’s talk about basics. This film presents—or more accurately, continues from Captain America Civil War (2016)—the second cinematic reboot of the wall-crawler. As opposed to the tedious The Amazing Spider-Man (2012) and The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014), this new version of the character justifies his existence by being existing in a world different than what we might normally expect from the character. 

Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) is not an old bitty (not that there is anything inherently wrong with being an old bitty). MJ (Zendaya) isn’t really MJ, and in fact there may not be a real MJ. Also, we may never have to see some teen beat cover boy react as a spider bites his hand. We’ve seen it. We don’t need to see it again. For that matter, what we don’t know what the hell Uncle Ben looks like in this iteration, and that’s refreshing, too. I want to say Bradley Whitford, but I just want to keep putting cast members of The West Wing in everything (the only thing that the Garfield series got right, by the way). Comic book purists might have cause to complain, but they really need to lighten up. Variety is the spice of life, or at least the spice of summer tentpole movies.

Beyond that, it works in its own rights, completely divorced from either the large Spider-Man mythos or the large MCU. It’s one of the more engaging teen comedies produced in the last several years. Tom Holland channels the best parts of Matthew Broderick and Michael J. Fox to makes a character that may not always seem like a reel teen, but certainly seems like a character from a real teen movie a la the era of John Hughes prime. The idea that Toomes (Keaton) is both Parker’s arch-nemesis and his girlfriend’s dad is the right layer of conflict for one of these movies. It’s an amazing twist that feels organic and surprising, even after having seen it a couple of times.

I really can’t gush about this film more. Like the original Iron Man (2008), it’s a revelation when I was only expecting a diversion. It’s outstanding that my review of the film has gone this long without mentioning one more performance by Downey Jr. While I’ve been in light mourning for Tony Stark, I’m reminded by this film that there is probably plenty of life in the Marvel movies yet. Even if Gwyneth Paltrow receives far more credit (in this instance only) than she may fully deserve.

On one more strange note: Is it weird that this film is in the running for best Captain America film, and the last Captain America film also has a competitive play for best Spider-Man movie? What a time to be alive and watching movies in the summer.

Batman (1989)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Michael Keaton, Jack Nicholson*, Kim Basinger, Michael Gough

Have I Seen it Before: Let’s put it this way. There was a time when if you were to say any series of words that happened to be a line from the movie, like, say “Better be sure,” I would feel compelled to perform the next ten minutes of the movie. “See? You can make a good decision when you try. Hehehehehe. Where you been spending your nights? Well, welcome Count Dracula… Etc.”

I’ve gotten better in my advancing age, but not by much. I still perform the rest of the movie in my head, I just don’t make you watch it.

So, yes. I’ve seen it before.

Did I Like It: Is it even possible to offer criticism of a film that has lived in your head since your earliest memories? Can I ever watch this movie without watching the Michael Gough-staring Diet Coke Commercial and Bugs and Daffy demanding I call a 1-900 number for a Warner Bros. catalog (the traditional manner, as both ads appear before this film on the initial VHS release)? Is there room in the world for both a Batusi and a Batdance?

These are just some of the thrilling questions I will attempt to answer here.

The film’s production design is second to none. The film is clearly being filmed on a backlot, where every moment of action that isn’t in Stately Wayne Manor, The Gotham Globe, or Axis Chemicals**, seems to take place on the same street corner in Gotham. And yet, with matte paintings and other tricks of the camera, one is almost fooled into believing that Gotham is an actual city. Batman’s (Keaton) vehicles are wrought metal creations so indelible that while they were originally meant to adapt the then-fifty years of comics that had preceded it, but ended up becoming the ur-template for the next thirty years of interpretations of the character. 

The makeup is pretty special as well, but without the man behind it, all you’re essentially left with is Jared Leto. While Nicholson doesn’t quite pull off the same job that Heath Ledger does  in The Dark Knight (2008), but he doesn’t need to. Ledger disappeared into a character so slithery and despicable that there was incredibly little left of the actor. Nicholson chews scenery with aplomb, but isn’t the least bit interested in jettisoning the movie-star persona that had gotten him the role.

And then there’s Michael Keaton. He was shamed on spec for even approaching the role of the World’s Greatest Detective, because, I dunno Beelejuices and Messrs. Mom can’t kick ass? Once the movie actually came out—indeed, by the time the first trailer artificially inflated the box office of Deepstar Six (1989) or The January Man (1989)—he became Batman for an entire—read: my—generation. I’d love to see him reclaim the role in a Batman Beyond/The Dark Knight Returns adaption, but what really makes his performance stand out is that Keaton, as Bruce Wayne, is a stellar nerd. He’s never been able to be Bruce Wayne with any reliable success, but when he is at work, he is his best self. It also helps that he has a car that’s essentially a jet engine on wheels. Between his performance in these films and Bill Murray as Peter Venkman in Ghostbusters (1984), I had most of the attainable pillars of masculinity that I would ever need.

That probably says more about me than anything else, but I digress.

I have been effusive with praise for the film up until this point, but there is plenty that doesn’t work, and I’m not just talking about Robert Wuhl***. My generation is pretty in love with Prince, but since this film was my first exposure to his work, I’ve never found him—dare I speak ill of the dead—anything more than distracting. Also, the screenplay doesn’t hold up under even minimal scrutiny, buried as it is under the whizbang circus that Burton is far more interested in. And, here I’m not talking about Jack Napier/The Joker (Nicholson) usurping Joe Chill’s rightful place as the the murderer of Bruce Wayne’s parents. In fact, I’m only kind of talking about how eager Batman is to kill those that stand in his way. The rest of the plot is far too wobbly for its own good., too. And, on spec, it isn’t a bad plot, either! The idea of the mob getting a hold of CIA-abandoned nerve toxins and unleashing them on a city’s cosmetic product supply could make a pretty good movie, but it just isn’t particularly allowed to breathe here. The closest thing to a traditional goal-oriented story arc is handed to Vicki Vale (Basinger), but her dogged sleuthing of just what is up with both Batman and Bruce Wayne always rings a little hollow, because we have come into the film with the mystery all wrapped up in our heads. Honestly, I’ve thought a superhero story where the secret identity element becomes the back-bone of a whodunit has always appealed to me, and I may yet write it one day.

The film is chicken soup, just like mom (or, in this case, Tim Burton) used to make. I went into this screening nursing the tail end of a head cold and a stomach ache, and now I’m thrilled to say I can enjoy the films more medicinal properties the next time I don’t feel well.

So, sure, it’s worth watching, I guess. It’ll probably take upwards of thirty years for the film to reach the same level for you as it does for me, but I think you can get there.

*Some confusion about who should get top billing on this one, but I choose to go in alphabetical order. Some eagle-eyed readers will think I am giving way to bias and putting Keaton ahead of Nicholson. I’m reasonably sure that’s not what I am doing here.

**Which themselves are re-used sets from James Cameron’s Aliens (1986).

***I’m supremely confident Mr. Wuhl is a decent guy, and wouldn’t have made that crack about him if I didn’t think he was in on the joke. I once saw an interview with him where he called some other film I’ve now forgotten, “So bad, that I thought I was in it.” He seems like he knows what’s up.

Multiplictiy (1996)

Director: Harold Ramis

Cast: Michael Keaton, Michael Keaton, Michael Keaton, Michael Keaton

Have I Seen it Before: “We’re going to go eat a dolphin, Steve” was a common refrain in my house growing up.

Did I Like It: Math dictates it is terrific. Allow me to elaborate.

The text of this review appeared previously in a blog post entitled “How Could No One Else Like These Movies? Part Two, But With No Electric Boogaloo.” published 04/30/2017.

Speaking of 1996 films featuring multiple roles played by the stars of Batman (1989), this movie is pretty great, too. Directed by the late, great Harold Ramis, Michael Keaton plays a man slowly realizing he doesn’t have enough hours in the day to meet all his obligations. After taking a contracting job with a lab working on experimental cloning procedures, he finds the perfect solution. With two of him around to work and take care of the kids, everything should be fine. It isn’t enough, and another clone is needed to pick up the slack. Then the clones feel like they’re overworked, and they start cloning themselves. Hilarity ensues. Actually, as the 90s nostalgia industrial complex is now in full swing, a more horror-based remake of the same concept might actually work.

Some might claim that everyone involved has done better work—Ramis probably put the high-concept comedy genre to bed with the one-two punch of Ghostbusters (1984) and Groundhog Day (1993) but do not let this take diminish from the film’s accomplishments. The special effects—while not overwhelming—still hold up. Often when one actor has to interact him or herself, the eye-lines never quite line up. It’s clear that the scene was shot at two different times, and the film has been processed to within an inch of its life. Just watch any episode Star Trek: The Next Generation wherein Data’s evil twin brother, Lore, shows up for great examples. In Multiplicity, it really feels like Keaton is sharing the frame with himself.

Which brings me to my real argument for why this film is loved far less than it ought to be. Now, I’ve had a theory going for a number of years that the presence of Michael Keaton in a motion picture automatically adds 15% quality to the final product. Now, this movie has 4x Keaton. Rotten Tomatoes currently has the film at a dim 42%. Therefore, with four Keatons running around, the movie actually deserves a 102% rating. If you are not interested in the only movie that garnered a 102% on the tomatometer, then I don’t know what to do with you anymore.

The Founder (2016)

Director: John Lee Hancock

Cast: Michael Keaton, Nick Offerman, John Carroll Lynch, Linda Cardellini

Have I Seen it Before: Yes.

Did I Like It: McDonalds and Michael Keaton? Yes, please, on all fronts.

Michael Keaton not withstanding, the notion that The Social Network (2010) except about hamburgers and french fries instead of the burgeoning frontier of social media seems like it would be kind of a dud. Thankfully, this film benefits a mostly breakneck pacing that forbids the audience to realize they might otherwise be bored by an epic of food service and small-scale real estate deals. The film also has just enough of a wry sense of humor about whether or not the growing of McDonalds was a good development for human society, or an ongoing trash fire. I type that last sentence not so much out of a place of judgment, and more out of a place of self-deprecation, as I could really go for a bag of double cheeseburgers from any of the three McDonalds restaurants within two miles from my house. 

Maybe the subject of the film is sexier than one might originally assume. That’s either a testament to the film, or to cheeseburgers, and I’m honestly not sure which one is the case.

But, as I mentioned above, it also has Michael Keaton in it. History—and frankly, this screenplay—would prefer to have Ray Kroc be a cad at best, and a monster capable of demolishing western civilization as we know it at worst. In the hands of the once and hopefully future Beetlejuice, the man is instead scrappy, and worthy of a heroic role in a movie. He’s a torrent of can-do post-war Americanism, finally realizing that the best kind of people to bring his burgeoning empire to the rest of the world are other scrappers like himself. This quality Keaton brings to the role doesn’t diminish from our sympathy for Richard and Maurice McDonald (Nick Offerman and John Carroll Lynch, respectively) and the tragedy that unfolds as they lose the rights to their own name, or for Ethel Kroc (an unfortunately underused Laura Dern) as she comes to support her husband’s harebrained schemes, but turns out to not be enough for his ego. Naturally, the film streamlines another spouse between Ethel and Joan (Linda Cardellini), but thems the breaks in the biopic game.

It’s going to be a cold day in hell before I don’t recommend a film starring Keaton*, but beyond the casting, The Founder still delivers on everything its promised and is in that pantheon of truly great biopics.

* I’ll admit right now, I still have not seen Clean and Sober (1988), because I’m not terribly in the business of being depressed in a Keaton movie or Jack Frost (1998), probably for the same reason. But so far, the record remains unbroken.

Batman Returns (1992)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Michael “Greatest of All Time” Keaton, Danny DeVito, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Christopher “Yeah, But Imagine If I Had Been Playing The Scarecrow” Walken 

Have I Seen it Before: So, so many times.

Did I Like It: I’ll do you one further. Not only is it a great movie—even if it intentionally plays fast and loose with the core of Batman—it may be damn psychic.

But before I get to the film’s prescience, let’s talk a little bit about the movie in the context of the time it was released. One supposes that Warner Bros. wanted to reassemble as much of the team responsible for Batman (1989) as possible, and were willing to just about anything to get Michael Keaton and Tim Burton to acquiesce where they might have otherwise been disinterested in the prospect of returning to the batcave. 

So Warner Bros. decided to let them do whatever the hell they wanted as long as it featured the Penguin, an action set piece with the Batmobile, and was ready for summer 1992.

They delivered on all of those promises, and went completely nuts with everything else. In a movie essentially meant to entertain children, there sure is a lot of filicide, borderline S&M, and biting of Republican noses*. I can almost see why McDonalds got all bet out of shape in the summer of ’92. Maybe that means I’m getting older, but we’re treated to an unashamedly idiosyncratic movie in place of what could have been a throughly bland summer blockbuster. The Schumacher of it all that was to follow proves pretty conclusively that this movie was a special treat that is unlikely to come 

But in the twenty-five years since the film’s release, it has taken on a new life.

Now, I don’t want to say that there is some modern parable in the story of a woman beset by a crushing degree of sexual violence and harassment, while the rest of society is slowly burning under the caprice of a malevolent homunculi trying to grab all the political power he can before laying siege to everything in sight…

But I could.   

*Watch that movie again and tell me that each and every person supporting The Penguin (DeVito) in his bid for Mayor of Gotham isn’t a Republican, and I’ll be able to tell you haven’t been paying attention. Oswald Means Order, indeed.

Beetlejuice (1988)

Director: Tim Burton

Cast: Michael (f’ing) Keaton, Winona Ryder, Geena Davis, Alec Baldwin, Jeffery Jones, Glenn Shadix, Robert Goulet, Dick Cavett… Christ, the cast on this picture is bonkers.

Have I Seen it Before: It is a core member of the “VHS tapes I wore down to the point of evaporation during childhood” association. 

Did I Like It: It’s a weird movie, but that’s more of an objective statement, isn’t it?

Beetlejuice—Tim Burton’s second feature—is about death. Again, that seems like a pretty objective statement. Perhaps it is about death in the same way that Young Frankenstein (1974) is about neurosurgery. And yet, over dozens of viewings in the late 80s and early 90s, that never seemed to be what the film was about. If you were to ask me in my first decade of life what the story of the film actually is, and I would probably tell you that some people wander around a movie for the better part of an hour before Michael Keaton shows up and the real movie begins. This may be because a) I was more familiar with the ensuing cartoon series based on the movie, that transformed Beetlejuice (Keaton) and Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) from the lecherous demon in search of a suicidal child bride into a pair of wacky pals and b) I wasn’t quite ready to comprehend the idea of death at the age of five.

And yet, I can kind of get where I missed the idea way back when. The whole movie attaches itself to a pointedly nebulous aesthetic. The football team is out of left field, especially when they’re in the last shot of the picture. Why do dead people get sent to Saturn? Why is it a huge public health issue in the deceased community? Why has no one noticed Sand Worms traveling the surface of Saturn? Why did the sandworm appear out of nowhere at the Maitland/Deetz residence? That one’s a bit of deus ex machina, right? Don’t get me started on the fact that this may be the only film in existence which is regularly uncertain about the spelling of its title.

And so the film exists in a state of contradiction, often bewildering, but just as frequently charming. It might be the key case study in my Michael Keaton Theory. (Which postulates that a film is automatically ten percent better than it would have been otherwise. It works wonders in cases like Robocop (2014), and brings the rottentomatoes score of a movie like Multiplicty (1996) into the mid-eighties).

Another thought that only just now occurred to me on this screening: So odd that Burton directed this as sort of a warm up to Batman (1989) and didn’t cast Baldwin as the Dark Knight the next year. I mean, I’m grateful. Baldwin at this point in his career is too-on-the-nose for the “dance of the freaks” Burton was intent to bring to the screen, but the fact that the studio didn’t insist—or, in the alternative, Burton was able to bypass their insistence—is sort of freaky.