FAST-FORWARD
Barry Allen wasn't always so speedy. In his day job as a Central City crime scene investigator, Barry's known for two things: his steady, deliberate mind and always being late. But that was before Central City's first (and last) particle accelerator blew up during a fierce thunderstorm. Barry was struck by a bolt of physics-defying lightning that rebooted the perpetually tardy guy into an earthbound F-22. And just like that, a whole new world opens up for him. Rush-hour traffic? Pish. He'll be at work in five ... seconds. Slow Wi-Fi? Never mind: He'll just run to the library and look up what he needs before most of us can type www.
Sure, Barry's clothes are prone to catching on fire when he really starts motoring. But thanks to his intelligent friends at S.T.A.R. Laboratory, he's got a nifty suit that resists those annoying friction burns.
Most of us would enjoy such superpower. Me, I'd be able to wake up way later on workdays, and this review would already be done. But Barry's a bit more altruistic. Instead of using his speed to impress his friends and clean the house ever so quickly, he becomes Central City's prime protector—a man determined to help the helpless, bring the guilty to justice and clean up the city's streets in ... well, a flash.
'Course, all that's more difficult these days, what with strange portals having opened up between Barry's native Earth and the alternate reality Earth Two, wherein the Flash is a guy named Jay Garrick (surprisingly slow these days), Zoom is the Big Bad, and most "metahumans" have apparently gone to the Dark Side.
(And allow me to take a super-quick second or two here to give a little comic book credit to the CW: While multiple Earths have long been a part of DC lore, most mainstream superhero adaptations have steered clear of the weird and wild multiverse. Perhaps fittingly, The Flash decided to race right out into it, full speed ahead.)
THE RIGHT THING … RIGHT NOW
Forget about the grim Gotham over on Fox. The Flash reflects Barry Allen's sunnier, more innocent personality—Superboy to CBS' Supergirl, you might say. This show feels positively old-fashioned at times, a place where unabashedly good heroes battle nefariously villainous villains. Sure, maybe Barry experiences the occasional moment of self-doubt or deals with a moral quandary or two. (He'll even steal some civilian clothes from time to time when he forgets to bring a fresh set with him.) But despite his mother's death, there's no tortured soul lurking inside that red hero's outfit of his, no simmering gothic ennui. This guy's a hero without an asterisk, a Central City denizen who is as good as they come, at least on the screen.
Of course Barry has an active dating life (but he's certainly no speed dater). Foul language can sometimes flit through the script. And The Flash, like all superhero properties, shows us flurries of violence; people sometimes get hurt or even die. But in a television landscape filled with dark antiheroes, the Flash still feels like a bright guy who always tries to do the right thing ... right now.
