The Matrix Revolutions (2003, The Wachowskis)

I understand there are reasons for The Matrix Revolutions. If that one rumor is true, it’s basically Keanu Reeves didn’t want to do sequels forever, and the Wachowskis wanted to do a long-running franchise. Old Internet gossip (oddly more reliably than some later Internet gossip, but still… Internet gossip). And then the costume changes… the Columbine shooting didn’t help with trench coats as a fashion statement. Oh, and then instead of the movies being all about freeing people trapped in their Matrix lives—so if you’re a cop, you’re working for the machine, and the good guys will have to take you out—that action kills a real person. Who, if they were a good person who took the red pill, wouldn’t be a cop. But it’s a person. It’s after 9/11. Cheering killing mindless human-faced zombies… not so easy.

So you make them all programs like TRON. Only they’re sometimes super horny and sweaty.

I get it.

Also, Gloria Foster dying and having to be replaced between the last movie and this movie, even though Revolutions takes place immediately following the last one, Reloaded. I grok it.

It’s also still godawful movie-making.

What happens to Larry Fishburne in the franchise where he was a very big deal in the first movie? He’s barely in it. Demoted to hanging out with the cast introduced in the last movie and having nothing to do with the main plotline he’s around. Though it’s not much better for “lead” Reeves and romantic interest but also action sidekick Carrie-Anne Moss. They’re nowhere near the film’s biggest action set piece. Fishburne doesn’t get to participate in the action (because he’s not a CGI flying, techno-Lovecraftian flying thing, or a machine-gunning version of the Aliens power loader) in the big set-piece. Still, he’s at least ostensibly vital to it.

He’s not because the script instead wants to be about how Harry Lennix is a joyless hard-ass who doesn’t think Reeves will turn out to be Matrix Jesus and save the day. Fishburne’s most significant scene in the movie is his debriefing. The human survivor council has some questions. This time there’s a Black lady (Francine Bell) who gets not just a close-up but also to talk. There are also the pointless old white people—bad seventies sci-fi guy Anthony Zerbe and “why didn’t you stunt cast this part” Robyn Nevin—plus Black man Cornel West doing a cameo. The movie’s just Fishburne getting less and less to do.

Well, except maybe Moss. Moss, who started the franchise with less screen time than the boys but still just as important (and then more important for some other reasons), basically gets put into a freezer. She’s the damsel in distress. Even though she’s the one who hijacks the initial plot.

The movie opens with Reeves still in a coma since Reloaded ended three minutes before and a new captain (David Leonard) leading the B plot. Leonard should have been in Reloaded and may have been in Reloaded, but I’m not checking. I don’t remember him from it, so he mustn’t have had more than two lines because, at three lines, you realize how bad his performance will be. And it just gets worse and worse.

Ditto Ian Bliss, who appeared last time as a counter-revolutionary and potential traitor to the humans. He’s got the film’s most important scene… maybe second important, but it depends. Most important or second most important. And he sucks. He’s comically bad. He’s supposed to be mimicking one of the other actors in the movie, and it’s painfully obvious he’s doing it, but none of the characters notice, so they’re all taken by surprise later on. It makes all the good guys seem like they’re not actually attentive enough to pull off saving the world.

Anyway.

Reeves is in his coma, but not really; he’s in the Matrix, where he learns the programs can love, which changes everything. If they can love, they’re people too. It’s an interesting idea—the value of life extending to artificial life—and probably the only one in the entire movie? Matrix Revolutions doesn’t even try with the philosophical nonsense of the last one. Instead, there’s a bang bang, boom boom solution to things in this one.

Moss and Fishburne have to go save Reeves, returning to visit last movie’s bad guy, Lambert Wilson. The previous film started with the machines due at humanity’s last refuge in thirty-six hours to wipe them out. This movie begins with those same machines due in twelve hours. So when Wilson says, “Didn’t think I’d be a returning villain so soon?” to our heroes… it’s been like three hours since they’ve seen each other. And Wilson’s got an entirely new gang of sidekicks, who are going to do a big fight scene, and then Moss and Fishburne will have to work for him and on and on and on. Until Moss cuts the bullshit and the cliffhanger resolve is all over.

Then it’s just setting up Moss and Reeves to go to the never-before mentioned Machine City, where all the programs live, presumably, under the watchful eye of the MCP—because he’s going to convince them he’s their savior too. Fishburne, Pinkett Smith, Leonard, and still charmlessly in the movie Harold Perrineau are going to the human city to try to stop the first wave of the invasion. They’ve got the only weapon left on the planet to do it. We didn’t see the destruction of the others; Revolutions covers it in a poorly acted exposition dump. Because it’s a bad movie.

The big set-piece is the humans trying to fend off the invading metal octopus monsters while Pinkett Smith tries to make the Kessel Run less than twelve parsecs. There’s a really shitty subtext about it because Lennix, Pinkett Smith’s boyfriend, doesn’t just not think she can do it, he didn’t listen to her when she undoubtedly told him about the times she did it. I get the Fishburne, Lennix, and Pinkett Smith love triangle thing doesn’t really work out because Lennix is risibly bad, and Fishburne and Pinkett Smith repulse each other like magnets in the chemistry department… but why not fix it? Maybe there was a deadline. It’s always good to kill your darlings with a rushed finale; everyone says so.

Again, anyway.

The big battle scene is terrible. This time out, Bill Pope’s photography is slightly better than the second movie, but it’s still unbelievable he’s had other jobs, including doing the excellently photographed original. It’s a mawkish scene, all about macho battlefield stuff while playing with bad eighties toys done in not terrible CGI. Not good CGI, not well-lighted CGI, but not terrible CGI. Not well-directed future war action either. But. The CGI exhibits competence at some base levels. It’s long, it’s boring, and there’s this weird subplot with Nona Gaye and her female sidekick, who very much don’t have macho war movie bonding going on. The movie intentionally gives it to The Not-Feral Kid (Clayton Watson) to do a lousy job with it while Gaye gets action but squat as far as character. Gaye’s bad, but Watson’s much, much worse. It’s just another crappy part of the movie.

Speaking of Not-Feral Kids… there’s a genuinely awful cameo from Bruce Spence. It seems like a Road Warrior reference, making it the only time the Wachowskis fully extend the homage, but Spence is so terrible they really shouldn’t have done it. Revolutions is even worse than the last one. It’s an achievement in missing the target time after time.

And, so, finally, let’s talk Hugo Weaving. The first movie’s break-out performance. The first sequel’s pointless addition amid pointless additions. He’s now the anti-Reeves, wanting to take over the Matrix for himself by turning everyone in the Matrix—presumably humans (we never see it because dead civilians after all) and programs alike. Reeves will have to do a flying kung fu battle with him to save the world.

The flying kung fu battle’s better than you’d expect, given the rest of the movie, but Weaving’s performance isn’t just easily the worst in the film; it’s cartoonish in a way it’s unbelievable Weaving wasn’t trying to make it bad. Like he was out to sabotage the movie. It’s unspeakably bad. And utterly pointless.

The nicest thing to say about the Matrix Revolutions is Reeves, Moss, and Fishburne never embarrass themselves. Reeves and Moss get some saccharine sludge for material, and Fishburne’s got to act opposite Lennix and Leonard, but they make it through professionally. Ditto Mary Alice (replacing Foster), Lambert, Bernard White as a very special program, Gina Torres, and Collin Chou (maybe). Everyone else is bad and worse. And there’s no end to the worse.

Rupert Reid’s particularly annoying as Lennix’s sidekick, not just because he should’ve been there last time, but also because he manages to be even less charismatic than Lennix. You don’t want a performance less charismatic than Lennix’s. It’s a dangerous place.

Bad music from Don Davis.

Not bad editing from Zach Staenberg; he’s doing the best he can with insipid material.

In addition to being an insipid mishmash of action and sci-fi movie nods, kiddie pool depth philosophy, and bad acting, Revolutions is also a really boring version of that movie. Revolutions is bad, disappointing, and bored with itself.

The only bigger “Why?” than “Why watch Matrix Revolutions” is, “Why make Matrix Revolutions.”

At least be honest and call it The Matrix Contractual Obligations.

The Matrix Reloaded (2003, The Wachowskis)

I’m trying to think of something nice to say about The Matrix Reloaded. None of the returning good guys give bad performances? None of the leading returning good guys? Like, Gloria Foster’s back and, while she doesn’t give a bad performance, it’s an utterly charmless one heavily leveraging her charm in the last movie. But she’s gone from Black grandmother saving the future to… something else. The something else is a third act reveal without Foster’s participation, but the one scene she does get definitely changes the trajectory the first movie promised.

Reloaded takes place approximately six months after the first Matrix. In that amount of time, Keanu Reeves and Laurence Fishburne have changed their outfits—Fishburne’s got a different leather jacket while Reeves goes with a cloth cassock. Carrie-Anne Moss still does the whole shiny leather thing. It might make for a great scene if they had any personality or character relationships. But there’s not a lot of character in Reloaded for the trio.

Other than Reeves and Moss being lovey-dovey and trying to find make-out time when they’re not busy saving the world. Or when people in the real world are begging Reeves to save their relatives from the Matrix. Or when they’re bringing alms to Reeves. Plus, Reeves is having dreams about Moss dying, which is how the movie starts—a lengthy action sequence with Moss falling to her death before Reeves wakes up scared and sad. He has other ominous dreams, which seem to be really happening, but he never acknowledges his prescience. Even when he and Foster talk around it.

All Fishburne gets in the character development arena is… ex-girlfriend Jada Pinkett Smith’s new boyfriend, Harry Lennox, is willing to destroy the future of humanity because he doesn’t like how Pinkett Smith used to like Fishburne. Pinkett Smith’s terrible, but Lennox is a whole other level of bad. He’d be comically bad if he weren’t actually ruining the scenes. Pinkett Smith doesn’t get enough to do to ruin them. Lennox does get enough and does ruin them.

Though the Wachowskis’ bewildering, seemingly ready for pan-and-scan composition doesn’t help. Maybe they were just bored with the political goings-on too. Lennox is the human resistance army commander and doesn’t think Reeves is the Matrix messiah, though it’s never clear why except to make Lennox more of a dick. The human settlement stuff is weird in a bad way. The only time the Wachowskis show any interest in it is when there’s a sex scene for Reeves and Moss (who apparently can’t do it on their ship because Fishburne and new crew member Harold Perrineau are around) intercut with a very sweaty dance party. Hundreds of scantily clad humans bumping and grinding. Only not the politicians who run the future settlement. Thankfully. Not sure I wanted to see Anthony Zerbe getting down with his shirt off, dripping in sweat from the subterranean heat.

Zerbe’s the council member who isn’t sure Reeves is magic but will risk it. There are some weird optics in having old white guy Zerbe bossing around all the Black people who do the work in the future city. The optics worsen when old white lady Robyn Nevin shows up and does the same thing. Because even though the council itself is diverse, it’s only those two people talking. Well, them and Cornel West, who’s a Black man, but he just parrots Niven and Zerbe. The entire subplot with the survivor city is terrible, even though it’s the de facto A plot since they’ve got thirty-six hours before the machines kill them all. Lennox wants all the ships protecting the city, but Fishburne and Reeves want to go up and into the Matrix. Specifically to see Foster, who drops some big truth bombs on Reeves, which he apparently never tells Fishburne about.

Do Reeves and Fishburne actually have any scenes together? Do they have any conversations before the epilogue? They’re around each other, they have an action scene or two in each other’s company, but they don’t have a character relationship. No time for that sort of thing in Reloaded.

The film’s a series of pseudo-intellectual monologues, seemingly divorced from the first film’s mythology—Matrix Reloaded owes more to TRON in that department than it does to its predecessor—and tedious, pointless action sequences.

Hugo Weaver comes back as a rogue agent—meaning the Matrix is after him too—who can self-replicate, so Reeves has to fight dozens of Weavers at a time for absolutely no narrative reason. The scenes just slow down the plot and create bad set pieces (Reloaded feels like three different sequel ideas glued together).

But those Weaver sequences manage to be more consequential than the eventual main plot for Reeves, which has him confronting one peculiar computer program after another. Including Lambert Wilson, who decided to affect a horny Frenchman for his Matrix avatar, much to wife Monica Bellucci’s displeasure. But Bellucci’s also got her issues.

Wilson’s got a gang of cyberpunk thugs who will fight Reeves and company. They’re not worth talking about, even though the Wachowskis try to make them more interesting by implying they started out as vampires and werewolves or some nonsense. It’s just terrible. Most of them are gone after the first too-long fight, with only Neil and Adrian Rayment sticking around for two set-pieces. I don’t want to get into the Rayments, who are terrible actors in terrible roles, but one could spend a lot of time on all the things bad about them. Maybe not even starting with them being white men with dreadlocks, but definitely getting to it.

So much lousy acting, whether Lennox, Pinkett Smith, Zerbe, Ian Bliss, the Rayments, Perrineau (who’s profoundly lacking in charisma just like his predecessor, Marcus Chong, in the last movie), Nona Gaye as Perrineau’s pointlessly overbearing wife, Collin Chou as Foster’s bodyguard (a computer program who needs to fight a man to see if they can be pals or some nonsense). Helmut Bakaitis has a singularly important part and is godawful.

It’s a terrible sequel, a terrible movie.

Even the returning crew from last time—cinematographer Bill Pope, composer Don Davis—who did excellent work there do bad work here. Pope can’t light for all the green-screened composite shots, and Davis’s score is bad.

Last thing—the CGI models for Reeves. He’s got some Superman-esque flying going on, and whenever he does it, there’s some terrible CGI head on the model.

Nothing the Wachowskis do in Reloaded works, but none of it seems like they care if it works either. It’s the pits.

The Matrix (1999, The Wachowskis)

The Matrix starts kicking ass in the second half. The first act clunks along, introducing both Keanu Reeves’s plot and then the Carrie-Anne Moss and Laurence Fishburne one. The second act makes a lot of promises and stumbles delivering on them. There’s this big fight scene between Reeves and Fishburne, and instead of accelerating the film’s momentum, it intentionally stalls it out again.

The film opens with Moss on the run from the cops and the Men in Black—a phenomenal Hugo Weaving and the lackluster Paul Goddard and Robert Taylor. She’s a cyberpunk hacker who can leap (between) medium-sized buildings in a single bound. Right after Moss’s fantastical introduction, Matrix switches into mundane with Reeves’s white-collar computer programmer. After he gets a prescient message on his computer screen, Reeves goes out clubbing and meets Moss, only to wake up late the following day. At work, he gets a special delivery—a cell phone. It rings, Fishburne calling to warn him Weaver is after him.

Now, if Reeves listens to Fishburne in this scene, the movie will get to the second act faster, so of course, he doesn’t and instead gets arrested. It’s okay, as it allows for the first great scene from Weaver in the film. But then immediately following, Moss comes along (with friends who aren’t going to matter other than looking cool) to rescue Reeves. Not from Weaver, but from reality. Or what he thinks is reality.

Because the actual reality is humanity is being used as batteries for the machines who have taken over the planet. Moss, Fishburne, and the aforementioned indistinct but cool pals (save Joe Pantoliano, who’s intentionally not cool but also very distinct) are freedom fighters who live in the real world—one suffering an endless nuclear winter thanks to the war of the machines—and try to fight the computers, with the fake reality (The Matrix) their battlefield.

And Fishburne’s absolutely positive Reeves is their John Connor. Just no one else is sure. Especially not Reeves, who isn’t thrilled to find out his entire life’s not just a lie but also fake. Even if it does mean he can learn kung fu as fast as it can be uploaded onto his brain via Sony MiniDisc.

The biggest problem with the first half of The Matrix is the sluggish plotting, which keeps Moss in the background so she can save a surprise for later, as well as the tell then show then tell some more style of storytelling. But also the lack of character development for the indistinct but cool pals. The only ones who get anything to do are Pantoliano, who’s disgruntled, and then tech guy Marcus Chong. Chong can’t go into the Matrix because he’s a regular human born out in the post-apocalyptic real world, so instead, he operates the computers to send the other people back in. Chong’s bad. He’s not the worst performance—I mean, he’s close, but he’s much better than Goddard and Tylor—but he’s got terrible timing and bad writing. He’s a charisma vacuum in a part utterly dependent on it.

Once Reeves heads back into the Matrix as one of Fishburne’s team, and they stop promising to do something great and start doing some great things, the film takes off. Starting with Reeves going to visit Gloria Foster. Foster’s the fortune-teller who’s going to suss out whether or not Fishburne found the right guy to save the world.

While The Matrix’s most outstanding achievement is probably its technicals, there’s also something really cool in how the people saving the future are Black (Fishburne and Foster). It just feels right. And special. The film even seems aware of it, with Fishburne alluding towards it during a fistfight with Smith.

The film’s second half is a continual action sequence, primarily set in the Matrix where Reeves, Moss, and Fishburne can do kung fu and shoot guns. The gun stuff gets a little tiresome, but it’s more technically impressive than the kung fu. The best action involves a helicopter rescue sequence; directors Wachowski do their best work on that one, with some excellent editing from Zach Staenberg. The lengthy kung fu fights are all slowed down for emphasis, which makes them less visually impressive, but does allow time to focus on the characters’ experience of the fights, whether it’s Reeves starting to think he actually might be the white savior Fishburne’s looking for, or Weaver coming to a similar conclusion. Good for Reeves, bad for Weaver.

Weaver’s best scene in the movie isn’t opposite Reeves, but Fishburne. Reeves is just Weaver’s fisticuffs nemesis, while Fishburne’s the one he can talk to about two levels of artificial life.

Great music from Don Davis, great photography from Bill Pope. The Wachowskis’ direction of actors isn’t always the best—especially in the first half—but their approach pays off for the actors it needs to pay off for (i.e., Moss). Oddly, they direct Reeves better outside the Matrix scenes than inside, which is an anomaly. Though Reeves probably plays worse inside the Matrix than out because of that super-clunky first act and then the tedious hero’s journey in the second.

Fishburne’s great, Weaver’s great, Pantoliano’s great. Foster. Foster’s really great. If it weren’t for Weaver’s scenes getting better (until they don’t), Foster would be the best performance with just her one scene. But it’s Weaver.

Moss and Reeves are excellent together, which is the point, even if it takes a while. And relies on third act reveals to inform previous scenes.

Reeves is a good lead. He’s best reacting to other people, just so long as they’re strong enough to hold the scenes.

The Wachowskis’ script has some problems, and they can’t always make the obviousness work—then other times sail through it—but the pacing is fantastic. The direction’s usually exceptional.

There are a handful of movie homages. Star Wars and Terminator are the most obvious, plus whatever the wire fu pictures they’re referencing, and there’s eventually a nice Western nod.

Matrix is good. and they can’t always make the obviousness work—then other times sail through it—but the pacing is fantastic. The direction’s usually exceptional.

There are a handful of movie homages. Star Wars and Terminator are the most obvious, plus whatever the wire fu pictures they’re referencing, and there’s eventually a nice Western nod.

Matrix is good.

Bound (1996, Lana and Lilly Wachowski)

I always thought Gina Gershon got top billing for Bound–even though she’s only the lead for the first third or so–but it’s actually Jennifer Tilly, which is somewhat more appropriate. I say somewhat because at a certain point, Tilly too loses the spotlight. For a good twenty minutes in the middle, the film belongs to Joe Pantoliano.

Pantoliano’s performance here is probably his best; even though it’s firmly in his oeuvre of slimy weirdos… there’s something singular about this one. He’s always scary, even before he’s supposed to be, because his character is so clearly disturbed (he’s a dissatisfied middle-level mobster).

But Pantoliano doesn’t take over until almost halfway through–Bound takes place over a week or so, following Gershon getting a job renovating the apartment next to Tilly’s–and during the Gershon and Tilly romance, it’s got to be perfect and it is perfect.

While the film definitely has its roots in film noir, the Wachowskis break certain rules. Making it about a lesbian couple isn’t one of those rules. In fact, their carefulness in showing that relationship–especially exploring Tilly’s role in it–is what makes Bound different and some of what makes it great. The dialogue in these scenes is superior.

There’re some great supporting performances–John P. Ryan, Christopher Meloni.

It has a small cast in a small film. Bound’s the greatest play adapted to screen (of an original screenplay).

Bound is brilliant–so brilliant, I didn’t even make any Speed Racer jokes.

4/4 ★★★★

CREDITS

Directed by Lana and Lilly Wachowski; written by the Wachowskis; director of photography, Bill Pope; edited by Zach Staenberg; music by Don Davis; production designer, Eve Cauley; produced by Stuart Boros and Andrew Lazar; released by Gramercy Pictures.

Starring Jennifer Tilly (Violet), Gina Gershon (Corky), Joe Pantoliano (Caesar), John P. Ryan (Micky Malnato), Christopher Meloni (Johnnie Marzzone), Richard C. Sarafian (Gino Marzzone) and Mary Mara (Sue the Bartender).


RELATED

OTHER FILMS DIRECTED BY LANA WACHOWSKI
OTHER FILMS DIRECTED BY LILLY WACHOWSKI
OTHER 1996 RELEASES

Bound (1996, The Wachowskis)

There’re some great supporting performances–John P. Ryan, Christopher Meloni.

It has a small cast in a small film. Bound’s the greatest play adapted to screen (of an original screenplay).

Bound is brilliant–so brilliant, I didn’t even make any Speed Racer jokes.

Speed Racer (2008, Lana and Lilly Wachowski)

I may be a little naive, but I think one of the aspects of adapting materials between mediums is to encourage (or at least tacitly imply) someone to look at the original material. I find it particularly odd in the case of Speed Racer. Being somewhat aware of the cartoon but never having seen it, I’ve now formed the opinion–just based on the film–it’s for six year olds and anyone older than six years of age watching the cartoon is a little slow. The Wachowskis’ adaptation suggests there isn’t a single intelligent thing in the source, something their insanely bad, outrageously expensive adaptation gleefully amplifies.

The film is aimed at an audience of adults–it’s not aimed at NASCAR fans, simply because it gives the appearance of being high brow (but couldn’t be further from)–but adults who think the things they liked at age six are good. Not realizing a six year old might not make the best cinematic or literary recommendations.

Still, the film is so unbearably bad–the green screen shooting (there are very few real sets) looks terrible–I find it hard to believe the film has supporters, but I know it does… I’ve read positive reviews. Though such reviewers must be driving to work in a gift from Warner Bros….

I do have one positive observation to make about the film. The casting of John Goodman and Susan Sarandon. While their performances are awful, their makeup is very successful.

Otherwise, it’s indescribably bad.

0/4 ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Lana and Lilly Wachowski; screenplay by the Wachowskis, based on a manga and an anime by Yoshida Tatsuo; director of photography, David Tattersall; edited by Zach Staenberg and Roger Barton; music by Michael Giacchino; production designer, Owen Paterson; produced by the Wachowskis, Joel Silver and Grant Hill; released by Warner Bros.

Starring Emile Hirsch (Speed Racer), Christina Ricci (Trixie), John Goodman (Pops Racer), Susan Sarandon (Mom Racer), Paulie Litt (Spritle), Roger Allam (Royalton), Rain (Taejo Togokhan) and Matthew Fox (Racer X).


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OTHER FILMS DIRECTED BY LILLY WACHOWSKI
OTHER 2008 RELEASES

Speed Racer (2008, The Wachowskis)

I do have one positive observation to make about the film. The casting of John Goodman and Susan Sarandon. While their performances are awful, their makeup is very successful.

Otherwise, it’s indescribably bad.

The Matrix Revolutions (2003, The Wachowskis)

I think The Matrix! Part Trois has to be better than the second one, if only because it’s not as terribly boring in its action sequences. The second one had that highway battle and it was bad and the Keanu Reeves versus a million Hugo Weavings and it was bad. Here, Keanu Reeves fights one Hugo Weaving (in an atrocious performance, it’s a shame how the sequels degraded the fine work he did in the first film) in front of a bunch of non-participating Hugo Weavings. It’s better. And it’s a huge, CG-aided flying fight scene–it’s the Superman versus Zod scene no one ever got to see.

Reeves is okay. It’s amazing how little his eyes effect his emoting when he acts. Jada Pinkett Smith is awful and as much as I appreciate the Wachowskis’ minorities inheriting the earth thing (none of the surviving principles are white), I’m pretty sure the character they have her play is just the equivalent of Will Smith’s heroic, but definitely not revolutionary or intimidating, black guy for white audiences.

Harry Lennix is bad in this one. Maybe he was bad in the second one too. I can’t remember. He’s usually good. But he’s an idiot in this one, even though he’s supposed to be smart.

I think the script probably read well. As a movie, it’s a bit of a disaster; I’ll bet the script read well.

Except for the Wizard of Oz cameo at the end, it wasn’t completely awful.

The Matrix Reloaded (2003, The Wachowskis)

The Wachowskis get to do whatever they want with The Matrix Reloaded so they do this bombastic, pseudo-intellectual sequel and they’re totally bored with it. It’s very obviously not what they want to be doing with their time.

They got about as much mileage out of the Matrix as they could in the first one and putting a dream sequence into the second one doesn’t do them any favors.

This film has Harold Perrineau giving a bad performance. I didn’t even know it was possible for him to give a bad performance. He’s just terrible–he’s this useless, throwaway character.

Speaking of bad performances–Jada Pinkett Smith. I’ve seen her in something else and I was waiting for she to give one of the worst performances in film history and she certainly delivers.

The fight scenes are the boring and cartoonish. They’re not exciting. They look like a video game.

The film almost turns around at the end when it mocks the audience–the entire movie is invalidated in the last act, in a self-congratulatory way–not a fun way, but a wink wink. If the viewer is paying attention, he or she just realized the movie was a waste of time and money. But the cliffhanger ruins it. It’s cheap instead of cruel. Cruel is interesting. Cheap is predictable.

At least George Lucas is making a fortune off the toys. He cares about something. The Wachowskis don’t have a motive, artistic or commercial, for making this mess.

The Matrix (1999, The Wachowskis)

I have this vivid memory of seeing The Matrix in the theater. When the agents, dressed in their black suits, got out of the car, everyone groaned–they thought it was a Men in Black reference. Of course, the thing about The Matrix is it fakes being wholly original.

One of the nice things about being technically dynamic and full of great special effects is not having to worry about the actors much. Keanu Reeves is fine. Laurence Fishburne is pretty good. Carrie-Anne Moss’s only good scene is the one romantic one.

Hugo Weaving is great.

Joe Pantoliano is okay. Gloria Foster’s one scene is good. Marcus Chung, the biggest supporting cast member, is annoying and has some rather bad readings.

The Wachowskis composition is startling–it’s an exploration of what Panavision can do, in a way no one’s really done since Spielberg in the seventies.

Don Davis’s music is great.

I always notice it and don’t want to forget, especially now. The Matrix is unique in being a mainstream American movie where the leaders are black–Fishburne, Foster; looking at how Iron Man or Batman use their black characters, things have clearly gone downhill. Now, we have tokenism for the twenty-first century.

I haven’t seen the film in about nine years. It’s better than I remember it. Not as startling as the first viewing, but solid. The lack of plot originality isn’t an issue–it’s so well-made, not just technically, but as a communal filmgoing experience.