Every Major Character In The Flash, Ranked Worst To Best

For the purposes of this article, let us remember that characters are just that — characters.

In many cases, real-life actors seem to match the way they play characters onscreen. Many fans report pleasant encounters with Pedro Pascal, for example, and there are stories aplenty demonstrating that Bill Murray is legit weird and quirky. But then you have someone like Jerry Lewis, a comic and charity telethon host with a well-documented mean streak, or Vincent Price, known for his creepy roles but actually a soft-hearted dad and cat lover. Some actors always keep it real, while others are great at pretending. All of which is to say that you can like or dislike the character of Barry Allen/The Flash onscreen without it saying anything about Ezra Miller, the person portraying him. (Miller uses they/them pronouns, but Barry Allen is typically he/him.) Miller, of course, has been accused of several crimes, and many moviegoers may justifiably feel they don't want to support their movies.

This article, however, is about how effective the characters are that appear onscreen. Not how together the actors keep it in real life. A whole lot of other people worked on the movie, and most of Miller's headline-grabbing behavior took place after production began. When we rank the film's best major characters, it's a tribute to the work of all the storytellers in the process. Plus, if you're boycotting the movie, you can get all your MAJOR SPOILERS right here. Win-win!

The multiversal nature of "The Flash" will lead to some interesting separations on this list. Whom do we count as just one character, and when do we treat variants as separate? Here's the rule: if two characters essentially serve the exact same plot function as a collective, we rank them here as one. If they behave significantly differently from various versions of themselves, they're considered separate.

Dark Flash is, in a way, also Barry #2, but unique: jaded by infinite time loops and being stuck in really burned Bat-rubber the whole time. "Lightyear" pulled this twist a bit more effectively with Emperor Zurg's identity reveal; Dark Flash creates a bootstraps paradox wherein Dark Flash exists before he should have been created, and creates his own creation. Or something. Director Andy Muschietti and writer Christina Hodson may have worked all their time travel rules out, but they're still super-unclear, and Batman's spaghetti explanation feels like something Barry #2 would make up while high.

In and of himself, though, treated as separate from Barry #2, Dark Flash pretty much sucks at everything except looking scary. There's almost no "there" there, and in one of the better DC movies, he might be the worst archvillain. Yes, including Nuclear Man.

Michael Shannon has rightfully called out the fact that Zod falls short as a character here, but that seems to be by design. He and Faora (Antje Traue) simply serve as vessels for this Earth self-correcting its timeline. Barry tried to change fixed plot points in the timeline, and were he in the Spider-Verse, that would cause Miguel O'Hara to have a conniption. In the DC Multiverse, however, it appears to lead Earth on a path to destruction at the hands of mad Kryptonians. As the most dangerous combination of power and intelligence in the DCEU so far — not including Darkseid, because WB still claims the theatrical "Justice League" is the canon one — Zod perfectly embodies the wrath of the universe.

So why can't his neck just be broken again, when Supergirl lacks any of her cousin's reservations against killing? Well, in "Man of Steel," Clark had the advantage of a lifetime of powering up on Earth, with Zod newly adapting. In "The Flash," it's Supergirl newly adapting after a lifetime out of the sun, and Zod never loses his power suit, plus he's an expert in multiple forms of combat. Kara's just good at flying and throwing people around. The Flash should've pulled a Bill and Ted, taking her back in time long enough to practice fighting and super-speed, then brought her back to face Zod.

Aquaman doesn't exist in the new universe, because his dad settled for someone way less attractive and dangerous than Nicole Kidman. He does exist in the movie's post-credits sequence, getting insanely sloppy drunk in a way that has performatively annoyed many Snyder-bots online, who insist that the dignity of the character has been compromised. A character established as a whiskey-chugger in Zack Snyder's own "Justice League."

Ah, but Snyder never showed him falling-down drunk, did he? Maybe not, but James Wan depicted him getting wasted with fans, in a movie entitled "Aquaman," that, by definition, is canon to the character. It's the same movie where Julie Andrews voices a giant sea kaiju, and an octopus plays the drums for a big fight showdown.

Andy Muschietti's just the first director to suggest the drinking might be a significant problem for ol' Arthur. And since Marvel wouldn't allow that for Tony Stark once they took over Marvel, DC can explore this area uncontested. If you're willing to sell rare Atlantean jewelry for beer, while being falling-down wasted, that's a sign of serious dependence. Probably not one to be explored in "Aquaman 2," but you never know.

As in "Shazam! Fury of the Gods," Wonder Woman shows up at the last minute and easily cleans up the boys' loose ends. And, as is often the case, she leaves the male heroes mighty impressed and staring as she leaves. Bear in mind that when you live as long as she does, it's as if her ex, Steve Trevor, only just died, and then came back, and then died again because she had to wish for him to. She's not getting over that any time soon, so the dudes in the Justice League need to check their expectations. Either way, Diana and actress Gal Gadot absolutely nail it. 

James Gunn hasn't confirmed that Gadot is done as Wonder Woman, even though her third solo movie got canceled. What we do know is won't appear again for a while, if at all, because both Superman and Batman are being recast younger. This, therefore, might be our last look at Gadot in costume doing super-stuff, and at least it rates as a pleasant goodbye.

Like Wonder Woman, Iris West exists in this movie mostly to be an object of beauty and desire. This time, though, unlike in "Zack Snyder's Justice League," she actually gets to talk, with actress Kiersey Clemons capably doing the honors.

Since Iris and Barry Allen aren't in a relationship yet, we see Iris the way someone seeking a first date would: an angel whose flaws aren't yet visible, or if they are, they're glossed over. Plotwise, she's here to spur Barry into further action, whether it's tidying his apartment at high speed, or working out ways to prove his father innocent of the allegations Iris seems to believe until she hears a better explanation. Meanwhile, in the alternate reality, younger, stupider Barry has already made a move. Does this mean they're destined to be together in every universe, or merely that it takes a clueless level of confidence to win her over? The ending suggests the former.

For the purposes of character rankings, we're grouping all the Superman variants together, because they all represent the same thing: hope. When Barry Allen finds himself in a new, endangered universe, his first thought is of Superman. In his own universe, he has to be his best, most heroic self because bigger problems keep Superman occupied. In other universes, Superman also stands strong as a symbol of hope: hope that George Reeves and Christopher Reeve inspired among kids of their generation (sorry, Kirk Alyn — it seems time has forgotten you). In a smaller way, he also fulfills the hopes and dreams held by Nicolas Cage and producer Jon Peters. The former finally gets to don the suit; the latter achieves his lifelong goal of seeing Superman fight a giant spider.

Perhaps that's part of why Barry knows the new timeline cannot be saved — its Superman was killed as an infant. The hero that gives hope to every universe cannot do so for the one Dark Flash aims to fix.

What does that say about our own, powerless reality?

Sasha Calle looks natural and at home in the super-suit — weird that it would just be there in her cell with her, rather than in a separate room experimenting on Kryptonian fibers, but whatever. She's appropriately angry at having been imprisoned for life, and her moment of disillusionment with petty humans feels more believable than Optimus Prime's similar beat in "Transformers: Rise of the Beasts." When she comes back, it's like she's just learning how to comprehend compassion, and when she fights Zod, the rage shows. Does she really show us much of a character, though?

It's not her fault that Supergirl, as written, displays only the most obvious emotions in every scene. Looking into her eyes, one can sense more there. As a character in "The Flash," however, there isn't a whole lot to her. On the plus side, it does seem as though most audiences like what they do see her give.

In the context of this movie, "Batman" without qualifiers refers to Ben Affleck's Batman. Affleck, who has played the character in "Batman v Superman," "Suicide Squad," "Justice League" (both versions), and now 'The Flash," is the only cinematic Batman to have never gotten his own solo movie, despite the fact that he and his stuntpeople frequently deliver the best Bat-fights. The Batcycle chase gives us more of that, and even puts Bruce in a blue and gray suit for the first time in a movie since Adam West. (Too bad the toy companies didn't get the memo, and made his action figures all black.)

Affleck has said this is the movie where the character finally clicked for him, and we can see it in the scenes with Barry where he talks about how pain and scars make us who we are. He comes across as a man who lives with the sadness of a great loss and wants to do better, rather than an angry, bitter soul. It's a shame he's done with the part, but there's plenty of time left to reconsider. Just ask Michael Keaton.

Ron Livingston now plays Barry's father, replacing Billy Crudup (who portrayed him in "Justice League"), but the character remains essentially the same. He's just a good-guy dad, with a bit of that self-sacrificial martyr complex he clearly hopes his family will recognize as noble. Sure, he'd love to be proven innocent, because he is, though the exact circumstances of the crime were seemingly being saved for a sequel that's unlikely to happen. Instead of taking the time to prove it, though, he'd rather tell Barry to leave him and live his life, no doubt hoping to score brownie points for being a good father in at least that regard.

Livingston doesn't have a whole lot to do besides being a regular, relatable human being in a movie full of supes and eccentrics. That might be enough. When it comes to grabbing cans of tomatoes in multiple ways, he's the man.

This is the Alfred we like to see. Not some old man so fixated on his own mortality that he wants to marry Bruce off and dissuade him from the path of crimefighting, but a reliable backup who can balance both Bruce's checkbook and his hero duties, swinging the appropriate backup as needed. It must seem strange to audiences now to hear that Jeremy Irons used to be the go-to for weird, creepy guys, now that he's the warm, accommodating butler-dad of the whole Justice League.

Per his musings in the "Snyder Cut," one longs for the days when we might have seen him deal with exploding penguins. That's a multiversal flashback which would be fun. Not that Michael Gough's Alfred didn't ably acquit himself with actual missile-bearing penguins back in the day, of course.

Presumably, we also have Alfred to thank for the Flash's energy meter, which works like the one in such games as "Final Fight" — pick up food on the street, and pump that meter back up!

Patty (Saoirse-Monica Jackson) and Albert (Rudy Mancuso) aren't really entirely separable as a team in this film, nor do they do a lot of justice to the long histories of the characters. It's fun to see them totally flip, though, and evolve from irritatingly sensible coworkers exasperated by Barry's chronic lateness to do-nothing stoners who take Barry #2's lead in slacking off and chilling in the dorm room. If we're feeling generous, throw their boss David (Sanjeev Bhaskar) into this group and make the ranking a three-way tie, since, even though we don't see a new version of him, he shows potential to be a secret slacker-sympathizer.

We're guessing we would have seen more of them all if more "Flash" movies were made. That's extremely unlikely to happen now for many reasons, but they managed to make enough of their little moments to linger in the memory.

For "The Flash" to work, we must invest in his cause: to save his mother's life. That won't happen if his mother comes across as anything less than a childhood-remembered ideal. Thanks to an able, warm, and relatable performance by Maribel Verdu, the movie delivers a mother some of us wish we'd had. The "I love you more"-"I love you most" thing comes across as cloying as hell if you don't feel it the way the characters do. Ezra Miller may have far more complicated issues in real life, but when it comes to Barry Allen, it's completely plausible that losing his mom made him the way he is: so awkward, unpunctual, and determined to fix everything. Losing a mom that angelic would do it.

The only part that's even mildly less than plausible? The fact that a mom this good at cooking would not have a long-term stock of tomato cans on hand that she rotates out frequently.

This is how good an actor Ezra Miller needs to be: in real life, their actions suggest a complete lack of self-awareness about their own behavior and its consequences. Yet Barry, the character played by Miller, knows precisely what all his problems are; even more so when he literally stares them in the face. He misses one, by thinking he can outsmart the butterfly effect. In all fairness, though, how could he have anticipated timelines would work like spaghetti? That's kind of a time-travel movie first.

The real Miller has seemed, over time, to betray an arrogance and obliviousness to how acting like a cult leader appears to everyone else. (Jared Leto was right there as an example of what not to do.) Barry, the character, betrays deep sadness and loneliness. It's the actor's own fault if audiences can't get the real performer out of their heads, but they gave it their all nonetheless, with some incredible physicality in both the "baby shower" scene and the moment when he becomes depowered but tries to use his powers anyway. All those critiques of how the Flash ran weirdly in previous movies pay off in a great sight gag, with Miller momentarily making like a classic silent, sad clown.

Superhero movies overflow with larger-than-life characters who want to destroy the world, or save it, or obtain ultimate power. It's hard for all of us regular mortals to relate to such things, when we'd rather take it easy. That's why Gary (Sean Rogers) rules. The most important thing to him? "Back to the Future." This is comedy we can all understand.

Even if you forget Gary's name, nobody's going to forget his tattoo. Seemingly upside-down — though that depends entirely upon one's perspective, which is, like, deeeeep, man! — it depicts Eric Stoltz as Marty McFly. In our world, only a cinephile fond of in-jokes would sport such a thing. Stoltz was originally cast as Marty in "Back to the Future," but his performance was reportedly too intensely serious. When Michael J. Fox was finally persuaded to take on the movie even while shooting "Family Ties," he reshot all of Stoltz's scenes. Except in the new universe. Because Barry Allen's mother never died, Eric Stoltz never got fired from "Back to the Future," and dudes like Gary can't stop talking about him. It would be interesting to see how many people after watching "The Flash" decided to get Gary's exact tattoo for themselves.

It would also be more proof that Gary's awesome. Be more like Gary.

"Batman (Multiverse)" is the official name of Michael Keaton's Batman, according to his official action figures from McFarlane Toys. It's not clear that he's exactly the same Batman from Tim Burton's two films — fans have traditionally assumed that one shared the universe with Christopher Reeve's Superman, and thus Terence Stamp's General Zod, but that may be their mistake. He's close enough, though, with a Wayne Manor and Batmobile that match, and a rebuilt three-seat Batwing which suggests he lost two sidekicks somewhere along the way.

Though technically not his movie, this Bruce Wayne gets more to do than he ever did in the Burton films, largely because Burton focused on the villains, with whom he identified more. The Bruce of both the Burton (and Joel Schumacher) films seemed to always want to settle down with the right woman, while this Bruce finally lets Keaton play a Batman excited to be Batman. With a newly designed costume still true enough to the original design, he and his stuntman can at long last move, too, offering up the kinds of fight scenes we deserved decades ago. He even one-ups Christian Bale, who gave Batman an ending in retirement after a fake death. This Batman actually dies, and his sacrifice is almost meaningless in the grand scheme of things! He'll probably be back in some form, but his arc here puts a nice capper on the story of this Batman that he never got before.

Coming out and truly stating it might have forced "The Flash" into an R-rating, but Barry #2 is totally a stoner. Without his mom dying, he didn't sustain any major emotional traumas as a kid, so rather than being driven to help the entire world, he grew up wanting to have fun. To be fair, he seems a lot happier than Barry #1.

Yet people are people, and it's not all nature or nurture. Barry #2 still has it in him to want to be a superhero, and to take the responsibility seriously. So, when he fails, he can't accept it. Like a Nintendo player on a really hard platforming game, he thinks that with enough resets and reboots, he eventually has to become good enough to win. He never realizes that the self-correcting universe resembles an '80s-style arcade game, one that keeps going and going until you die or reach the kill screen. Either way, nobody's getting out of it.

As an image of how flawed a happy Barry #1 would become, Barry #2 makes the perfect cautionary tale, and confirms Batman's point that scars make us who we are.

At last, we meet the real hero of the story. Or is he the villain? Like Gary's tattoo, it all depends on how you look at it. Nonetheless, Sandwich Guy (Kieran Hodgson) propels the story forward.

Think about it for a moment. If Sandwich Guy hadn't taken those extra few seconds to make Barry's disgusting sandwich (seriously, peanut butter, bananas, raisins, honey, and cheese on a roll might make even Scooby-Doo vomit), Barry might have reached work on time, not gotten lectured and sent on errands, not run into the press conference, and not been triggered. He might even not have seen Iris again!

Does that sound like a stretch? Well, so does the moving of a can of tomatoes in the grocery store to transform Ben Affleck into Michael Keaton! Butterfly effect! If Sandwich Guy understands this concept, he might be the most powerful being in the multiverse.