The Flash S01E03 – Review

With every new show, the best you can hope for is that each week will see strengths bolstered and weaknesses ironed out. This doesn’t always happen. Some shows seem committed to repeating the same mistakes over and over, while others can’t figure out how to get rid of certain flaws (two years later, Arrow still struggles to find something for Dinah to do). The Flash had the good fortune of starting off strong, but there are plenty of areas in which it can improve.

To get the bad out of the way, decent villains will probably be an ongoing problem for the life of the show, because any Freak-of-the-Week show has that problem. While the second episode at least attempted to make Multiplex sympathetic, this one doesn’t bother with Kyle Nimbus (a.k.a. the Mist). A death row convict taking revenge on those who convicted him requires little depth; we get scant details even on what crimes he actually committed. He’s a purely functional villain, whose danger comes mostly from Anthony Carrigan’s genuinely menacing appearance and performance.

Nimbus does, however, send Barry wading into dark waters after he arrives too late to save the judge who sentenced Nimbus. The brief experience is less a character-development opportunity for Barry as it is for Joe, or else Jesse L. Martin just makes better use of it than Grant Gustin does. Already relatable by playing the most human character on the show (and the least imposed by comic book canon), Martin’s completely natural style elevates what would’ve been a marginal player into the show’s rock. His pep talk with Barry is just the right balance of firm compassion, yet also bares Joe’s own interior for us to see. If every cast member can pull off performances like this, the show will be magical.

Not to suggest that they’re doing terribly or anything—far from it. In fact, this episode goes out of its way to smooth some of the character dynamics. Barry and Iris’ friendship is already convincing, but staying in the friend-zone is a lot easier when he’s rolling his eyes at her boyfriend behind her back rather than openly inflicting her with his hopelessly-in-love expression. Even better, he can distract himself by pursuing a relationship with Caitlin, which the episode sets them up for thanks to an obvious parallel between Barry and her late fiancé. Both are smart guys with sweet tempers and heroic streaks—the writers rightfully realize that Caitlin would never be attracted to the douchey, self-interested jock that is comic book Ronnie Raymond—and Barry’s repeat of Ronnie’s traumatic semi-last words to Caitlin kind of seals the deal for a future Baitlin.*

The flashbacks to the night of the particle accelerator’s failure yield good material for the entire S.T.A.R. crew. They reaffirm Wells’ creepy obsession with Barry, even out Cisco’s goofiness with a bit of pathos, and, strangely enough, warm Caitlin’s frosty personality. Admitting to Barry that she’s “guarded” is an excellent first step, but she also nails the exact nature of her trauma (“[Ronnie] wasn’t supposed to be there that night. He was just there for me.”), which goes a long way to forgiving her frigidness.

The Flash deserves a pat on the back for these improvements, but it shouldn’t lose sight of problems that should be fixed sooner rather than later. The shallow villain thing is one, and the CCPD is another. With S.T.A.R. doing most of the investigative heavy lifting, there’s little need for Barry to stick around the precinct, much less apply flawed logic to these fantastic cases** when made-up logic is so much more effective. Something also has to be done about Eddie Thawne, because being generically handsome is not enough to explain why he’s worth Iris’ affections, especially when he acts like he doesn’t need it (“I wanted it to be real.”). It also wouldn’t hurt to get rid of the starting and ending monologues, as they feel a bit After School Special for primetime.

– Minhquan Nguyen