I love movies. When I sit down to watch a film, I expect to enjoy myself, and my standards are low enough that I’m rarely disappointed. Often, I’m wowed. But I can think of only three films that have made me feel genuine awe. I’ve written about two of them in this 10-day movie challenge series: the original Star Wars, and Blade Runner.
The third is The Matrix.
Note: Links in this post may be affiliate links, which means I’ll receive a commission, at no extra charge to you, if you make a purchase through such a link. Learn more here.
I saw The Matrix in the theater before I had heard much about it, thankfully. I remember the absolute thrill of the opening sequence: the tense raid by the cops, the first look at bullet-time as the camera spins around a leather-clad woman’s jumping kick, the woman then running on the wall… Then a rooftop chase with impossible leaps, and a Superman-style dive through a small window on a distant building, and a tumble down a flight of stairs ending with guns drawn and ready…. “Get up, Trinity. Get up. Get up!”
And then she’s racing a garbage truck to reach a phone ringing in a corner phone booth She gets there first—but we see her face, awash in the approaching headlights, phone to her ear, hand on the glass, as the truck slams into her.
Or seems to… she’s gone.
It’s a great sequence; I can watch it over and over. But that mystery—that feeling of “What the hell just happened?”—is limited to the first viewing. I will never experience that again.
With the announcement that a fourth Matrix is in the works—reportedly starring Keanu and Carrie-Anne, with one of the Wachowskis at the helm—I’ve been thinking about why I’m still in love with The Matrix.
In some ways, I shouldn’t be. For example, most of the film is exposition—well-disguised exposition, couched in lots of action, to be sure. But the whole movie basically involves Neo learning what it means to be “The One” in this simulated world.
But once I understood all that—once that mystery was all solved—why would I want to watch it again? I mean, I loved The Sixth Sense, but I only needed to see it twice: once to be fooled, and once to see how cleverly I had been fooled. After that, I just wasn’t interested any more.
I’m tempted to say that I return to The Matrix because it looks so damn cool. Leather and sunglasses, martial arts and wire work à la Hong Kong cinema, shoot-outs and explosions. But the sequels had all of that, and more—ad nauseum. So it can’t just be that.
Indeed, comparing the original film to its sequels helps clarify what I love about The Matrix. Yes, the eye candy is important. But the story is well-crafted, purposeful, and tight. Lean. Nothing doesn’t belong.
Think about the original dojo scene, where Neo, trying out his newly downloaded knowledge of Kung Fu, fights Morpheus in the sparring program.
But they aren’t just fighting. Morpheus is teaching Neo about this new world. And the lesson is meted out over the course of the fight (“You think that’s air you’re breathing now?”). Neo learns a lot in that scene—though, as the “jump program” demonstrates, he’s really just getting started.
The sequence is less than six minutes long, from when Neo opens his eyes and says, “I know Kung Fu” through his Wile E. Coyote landing on the pavement. It’s fun, gripping, and progressively instructive.
Compare that to a similar scene in Reloaded. Neo wants to see the Oracle, but encounters Seraph, the Oracle’s guard. It’s another Kung Fu fight, reminiscent of The Matrix‘s dojo scene—similar architecture, similar camera angles, similar moves. It’s only about a minute and a half long, though I remember feeling like it went on forever. And how does it end? With new information? A realization? Anything?
No: Seraph randomly raises his hand and says, “Good.” The fight’s over. That’s it.
That’s the problem with the sequels. The fights look good (for the most part), but they don’t do anything. They don’t move the story along. They’re like songs in a bad musical—set pieces that either interrupt the story, or that turn the story into a poor excuse for the songs. Either way, not great.
This first dawned on me years ago, when I read an effects guy’s comments on the relation between effects and story in the Matrix sequels. It’s been a long time, so I’m not sure if I found the same article, but this is close enough: effects wizard John Desjardin, who was brought on board for the sequels, said that “it’s good to find [a project where] the effects serve the story so well.”
But in the sequels, the effects don’t serve the story. They just bridge long, philosophical disquisitions about free will and determinism.
Don’t get me wrong: I love philosophical disquisitions about free will and determinism—and simulations and simulacra, and choice and fate, and freedom, and what it means to be human. All of these issues are raised in the original. But the effects serve the story; the effects contribute to our understanding of the issues—the stakes, the contradictions, the ambiguity.
I’ve seen a lot of posts, articles, and videos that work hard to make sense of the trilogy as a trilogy, where the first movie is just the opening gambit in a more ambitious project that required all three movies to realize. Some of the arguments are interesting, even sound. But none of them has convinced me.
As far as I’m concerned, the original and the sequels are barely related. The purpose of the action and the attitude towards exposition is different. The treatment of the philosophical questions is different. Even the pacing is different; perhaps the sequels should have been compressed into one movie.
All that said, I’m looking forward to the next sequel. A lot has changed over twenty years: the actors are older, the Wachowskis have transitioned. Hell, I’m older, and enough time has passed that my disappointment in the sequels is just a dull ache.
Perhaps The Matrix 4 will return to its roots: tight storytelling that puts philosophy on its feet, rather than discussing it on park benches, or across opulent dinner tables, or in front of arrays of television.
This is part of a series, echoing the “10 Day Movie Challenge” that I got sucked into on Facebook:
Every day I must select an image from a film that has impacted me in some way, present it without a single explanation and nominate somebody to take the challenge by starting his/her own post and selecting someone to continue.
Without a single explanation? Nice try.
Previous posts:
- #day1 – For your eyes only
- #day2 – Wait until dark
- #day3 – Blade runner
- #day4 – Flashdance
- #day5 – Star wars
- #day6 – The aristocats
- #day7 – Life of Brian
- #day8 – Ghost in the shell
- #day9 – Midnight Run