The multiverse is not total science-fiction. Its existence is unproven, of course, but it has a theoretical basis in real quantum physics. A wave function (the mathematical expression of a quantum system, which can provide the probability of where a particle will be found) is said to “collapse” after a definitive measurement is made. The “many-worlds interpretation,” devised by physicist Hugh Everett, instead proposes that when a quantum system is measured, all possible measurements play out across many universes.
Compare the Schrödinger’s Cat thought experiment, itself derived from the idea of quantum measurement; if you stick a cat in a closed box, there’s no way of being sure if the animal is alive or dead, so technically, it’s both and neither.
Experts have noted how viewing the world this way creates some chilling philosophical implications; as individuals and the collective whole of humanity, we cherish our uniqueness. If every permutation of “us” exists on one plane of existence, that uniqueness is eliminated. This is the root of Owlman’s nihilism, though he defines reality as branching based on people’s choices, rather than the behavior of particles (this is a character-driven narrative).
“Every decision we make is meaningless because somewhere, on a parallel Earth, we have already made the opposite choice. We’re nothing. Less than nothing,” Owlman explains. His analysis isn’t wrong, per se; it’s coldly rational under a certain lens. But you’d have to be immensely amoral to conclude this makes human’s lives “meaningless” — which Owlman is, so he wants to destroy the original “Earth-Prime,” thinking this will cause all other realities to collapse. “The only action one could take that would have any purpose,” he calls this, because destroying all reality is the only decision that can’t happen the opposite way on another world.
Woods gives a chilling performance as Owlman; calm and sinister, the opposite of his most famous voice role as the talkative Hades in “Hercules.” On the other hand, “Crisis On Two Earths” would have benefited from casting Kevin Conroy as Batman again, rather than understudy Billy Baldwin, as this would give Batman and Owlman’s already fantastic battle an extra kick.
I can hear Conroy delivering Batman’s lines to Owlman so clearly in mind, particularly his farewell: “There is a difference between you and me. We both looked into the abyss, but when it looked back at us … you blinked.” Both men faced despair, but only one surrendered to it.
Owlman’s character is an evil Batman, yes, but it’s deeper than just the novelty of having the Dark Knight as a villain; he’s a foil to Batman’s ethos of will and determination, that one person can make a difference. Owlman would rather destroy everything than live with the “illusion of free will,” while Batman sees the world for all it is, darkness and light, and strives to make it better with faith that others, even his foes, can be better. If there’s anything that “Justice League: Crisis on Two Earths” teaches us, after all, we’re all the sum of our own, distinct choices.