May
15, 2003 | In the last exciting episode of The Matrix, future-worldly
computer hacker Thomas Anderson (Keanu Reeves) discovered his true calling
as savior of humankind. Renaming himself Neo, our hero pledged to plug
into the artificial reality controlled by The Powers That Be, to fight
the good fight alongside Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss), a leather-clad
beauty with cheekbones to die for, and Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne),
a gravely grandiloquent rebel leader who pontificates in fortune-cookie
aphorisms.
The
chief impediment to their righteous crusade: Agent Smith (Hugo Weaving),
an icy-cold Mr. Bad Vibes who speaks in the condescending cadences of
a burnt-out teacher addressing slow-learners and, much worse, insists
on being a wet blanket by continually referring to the super-heroic
Neo as "Mr. Anderson." Think of him as the humorless high
school principal who prevents geeks from wearing Star Trek attire to
the senior prom. He's no fun at all, but he has - temporarily, at least
- all the power.
There's
a lot more of Agent Smith in The Matrix Reloaded, the prodigiously
hyped sequel that appears to have been downloaded this week by every
megaplex in the known universe. In fact, there's a lot more of almost
everything that made the first Matrix, released back in 1999,
such a memorable sensory overload. Trouble is, unlike Neo and his fellow
rebels, the Matrix franchise has lost the element of surprise.
Throughout Matrix Reloaded, there's a faint but distractingly
pungent whiff of "been there, done that." And there's way
too much time devoted to portentous dialogue, impenetrable complexities
and facile philosophizing that, taken together, are meant to inflate
the Matrix trilogy (a second sequel, The Matrix Revolutions,
is due later this year) into some kind of cross-culturally eclectic,
pseudo-profound epic myth.
Gaze beyond the intellectual posturing, and you can discern the hazy
outlines of a sci-fi plot that borrows heavily from a gamut of pop-culture
sources: Alien, Brazil, The Terminator, Alice in Wonderland and
John Woo's high-octane Hong Kong shoot-'em-ups. Siblings Larry and Andy
Wachowski, co-creators of this filmic universe, have cobbled together
a free-form narrative that has something to do with the enslavement
of mankind by sentient machines, and something else to do with masses
of human chattel bred to serve as Energizer batteries. (It's a narrative,
by the way, that can be understood - just barely - only if you've already
seen the first Matrix.)
But all of that merely is an excuse for the Wachowskis to find new ways
to make people look cool as they shoot guns and dodge bullets, throw
punches and execute kicks, race cars and smash through walls, preferably
in slow-motion while they're garbed in black leather. If Reloaded
is "about" anything, it's about the evolution of Keanu Reeves
into a sub-zero, Hong Kong-style action-movie icon - sort of a computer-generated
Chow Yun-Fat - with spiffy sunglasses, a black-on-black, vaguely clerical
wardrobe, and more weapons than an Afghan warlord.
Much like the first Matrix, Reloaded is a discordant but dazzling
dreamscape that is best appreciated as the most humongous video arcade
ever designed for thrill-seekers with minimal attention spans. If you
try to make sense of its furiously muddled plot - which incorporates,
among many other things, alternative realities, artificial intelligence,
wire-work acrobatics and kick-butt kung fu - you will find yourself
confused, if not enraged, by the movie's contradictions and incoherence.
Instead of thinking in terms of traditional narrative, you would do
better to interpret Reloaded as a step-by-step progression through
some new Nintendo 64 game. That impression is enhanced, it should be
noted, by the frequent tracking shots of Neo and friends as they dash
down hallways, seeking the door to their next challenge. Accompanying
them, you reach one level, then the next, and a few more after that,
and you're finished. Game over. The sensations are transient, but undeniably
exhilarating.