11/11/2003 - The Matrix - Revolutions

A rainy and cold Saturday afternoon, 1pm, November 8, 2003:
Three days after the official launch of The Matrix: Revolutions, I sat in a darkened theater room, wondering if I was the only one who had pilgramaged here today more out of a sense of duty towards finishing the story, than excitement for finding out what will happen to the characters in the movie. The lackluster "Revolutions" had seen to that. And one good look around was confirmation - it was opening weekend for one of the year's most anticipated movies, and the theater was half empty.

Ever the optimist though, I still had hope. Hope, that The Truth Would Set Me Free. That the third (and last?) installment of this dark saga would bring a satisfying conclusion to the mind-bending concept introduced in the first movie, and that the trilogy would conclude in one glorious display of cinematic fireworks, worthy of all the dizzying PR surrounding it, as well as the exhausting line-up of scholastic theories written about the "true meaning of The Matrix".

And of course I tried to ignore that "Matrix Reloaded" even existed, since it pretty much sucked, and its contents had little to no impact on the overall storyline anyway.

As I had feared though, "Revolutions" picked up right where "Reloaded" had left off. Without so much as an intro, it dove right into the mindless action.

If I sound uninspired to write this review, it's quite possibly due to the fact that this movie, more than the other two, simply left me cold. It didn't wow me, it didn't have me on the edge of my seat, it didn't make me to laugh or cry, or invoke any other emotion for that matter - which is pretty much one of the reasons, I watch movies in the first place.

Sure - the visuals were yet again bombastic. The battlescene between the human defenders of Zion and the giant swarm of Sentinels has to go down in cinema history as one of its greatest technical achievements to date. The final fight with Agent Smith is simply amazing. But did I really care who would win? No.
Instead, I found myself sitting there, tapping my foot, checking my watch, and waiting for it to be over - for the movie to finally give me my conclusion so I could leave the theater and go on spending the rest of my day doing something more interesting.

Curiously also, what little you see of actual human characters in this movie left me completely numb. I thought fondly back on the days when I marveled at Neo's finely cut facial features, the splendidly athletic body, nifty outfits, and even the sunglasses. Or Trinity's ultra-sexy leather and latex fetish wear, and her cool, confident kick-ass attitude. And then of course there was Morpheus' marvelous ankle-length, flared leather coat. The chain-smoking Oracle with her cookies was sort of endearing too. And Hugo Weaving, as the only human being who can crisply pronounce the words "Mister Anderson" without really moving his lips, managed to stealthily create an unforgettable character with Agent Smith through mostly baring his teeth and squinting his eyes. Even Cypher you loved to hate.

But this time around, I couldn't have cared less about any of the characters - old or new, dead or alive (yes, a couple of main characters get killed off - but if nobody cares, did it really happen?). The actors seemed almost robotic, just going through the motions, like they were acting in this movie simply to satisfy that contract-with-no-exit-clause they had signed a few years back when they were still struggling actors, instead of the mega-stars they are now. Their lack of enthusism clearly transpired, and made me fondly wish for a freak cameo by Startrek's "Data" to at least inject some dry humor into the situation.

That all aside however - the ending still leaves too many questions open as to be truly significant. Is the war between man and machine truly over? Is Neo really dead? Was this all just a game between two computer programs, The Architect and The Oracle? And why, oh why, did the directors insist on this cheesiest of fake sunrises as the last frame in a dark and stylish trilogy? Will we have to endure sequels and spin-offs for the rest of our natural lives?

In the end, the Wachowski Brothers have let us all down. They started out by creating a legend, a technical revolution in the movie industry, and almost a mini-religion. If they would have been wise, they would have left it at that and gone down in history as the much-admired creators of the one and awesome "Matrix" movie, kings of the action genre, and philosophical heroes to a legion of technophiles and paranoid insane asylum inmates.

Instead though, they decided to torture unsuspecting moviegoers with two pale and silly sequels that forever destroyed their reputation. Yeah, they're so rich now that they'll never have to work again - but can they ever eat at a restaurant again without having to fear that a disgruntled ex-computer-nerd-turned-waiter will spit into their soup?

And because I don't take all this too seriously, here's a link to a hilarious site that has proof that "The Matrix" really is "a High-Tech parody of the life of Jesus Christ".

Ok, people, it's time to let go now. These are just MOVIES.