Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths Part One

There is a specific kind of exhaustion that sets in when you hear the word "multiverse" in the 2020s. Between the MCU’s sprawling timelines and the neon-soaked chaos of the Spider-Verse, the concept of infinite realities has gone from a mind-bending sci-fi trope to a standard corporate checkbox. So, when Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths – Part One dropped in early 2024, it felt like it was arriving at a party that had already peaked and was currently entering the "cleanup" phase. I watched this while trying to assemble a very frustrating IKEA bookshelf, and honestly, the collapse of the multiverse felt significantly less stressful than those missing wooden dowels.

This film serves as the beginning of the end for the "Tomorrowverse," a stylized, thick-lined animated continuity that started with Superman: Man of Tomorrow (2020). It’s a universe that always felt like it was rushing toward a finish line it hadn’t quite earned, and Part One of this trilogy confirms that suspicion. It’s a strange, somber, and surprisingly quiet entry into a genre usually defined by planet-cracking punches.

A Jigsaw Puzzle of Time and Space

Director Jeff Wamester and writer Jim Krieg make a bold choice right out of the gate: they ditch the linear "gathering of heroes" narrative in favor of a fragmented, time-hopping character study centered on Matt Bomer’s Barry Allen. We see Barry at various stages of his life—his early days as a clumsy hero, his wedding to Iris West, and his presence at the dawn of the Justice League.

It’s an ambitious structure that demands your full attention, which is a big ask for a direct-to-digital animated flick. Barry Allen is basically the multiverse’s most stressed-out intern, bouncing between eras while a wall of white antimatter erases everything he loves. The action here isn't about two titans hitting each other; it’s a disaster movie. The "villain" is an unstoppable environmental force, and the heroes are essentially trying to build a very large levee to stop an ocean of nothingness.

The choreography of these sequences relies heavily on the "thick line" aesthetic of the Tomorrowverse. While it’s clean and modern, the animation style is sometimes a bit too "Archer" for its own good, lacking the fluid, high-octane energy you’d want from a Flash-centric epic. There’s a stiffness to the character movements that occasionally robs the antimatter wave of its terrifying scale. When a planet dies, it doesn’t feel like a tragedy; it feels like a file being deleted from a hard drive.

The Voices in the Void

The voice cast is where the film finds its pulse. Matt Bomer (who many remember from White Collar or his live-action stint in Doom Patrol) brings a genuine, heart-aching sincerity to Barry. He’s the anchor. Opposite him, Jensen Ackles—who has graduated from Red Hood to the definitive animated Batman of this era—provides the necessary grit. Ackles plays Bruce Wayne with a weary resignation that fits this "end of the world" vibe perfectly.

One of the highlights for me was the inclusion of the Crime Syndicate of Earth-3. Seeing Stana Katic (of Castle fame) pivot from Wonder Woman to the villainous Superwoman is a fun meta-touch. However, the film struggles with "Franchise Saturation Syndrome." Because this universe only had a handful of movies to establish its characters, the emotional weight of seeing them all gather is somewhat diluted. We’re told these people are a legendary team, but I haven't spent enough time with Jimmi Simpson’s Green Arrow or Darren Criss’s Superman to feel the stakes of their potential erasure.

Why This One Slipped Through the Cracks

Despite being based on the most famous DC comic event in history, Crisis Part One feels oddly obscure. It’s a victim of the "lame duck" period of DC media—released just as James Gunn was announced to be rebooting the entire cinematic landscape. It’s hard to get the general public excited about a "Crisis" in a universe that is being narratively shuttered anyway.

The film also suffers from its own "Part One-ness." It’s all setup, all atmosphere, and very little payoff. It’s a slow-burn sci-fi mystery that happens to feature people in spandex. Apparently, the production had to navigate the transition of the entire DC brand, which might explain why the "Tomorrowverse" felt like it jumped from its second act straight to the series finale. There’s a sense that Jim Krieg was trying to squeeze five years of planned storytelling into three 90-minute segments.

There are some cool details for the eagle-eyed fans, though. The way the film weaves in the "original" Earth-2 Superman (voiced again by Darren Criss with a slightly different tilt) is a lovely nod to the 1985 source material. It captures that specific comic-book feeling of being overwhelmed by continuity, which is both a strength and a glaring weakness.

Ultimately, Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths – Part One is a dignified, if slightly dry, opening salvo. It avoids the mindless "punch-up" tropes of the genre to focus on the burden of being a hero when the universe has already decided its time is up. It’s not an "instant classic" by any stretch—it’s too fragmented and visually stagnant for that—but as a piece of contemporary superhero media, it’s a fascinating look at how these franchises try to wrap themselves up with a bit of grace. It’s worth a watch if you’ve followed the Tomorrowverse, but for the casual viewer, it might just feel like another day at the multiversal office.