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The Matrix Reloaded
It’s been three years since the Wachowski Brothers received a surprisingly lukewarm response from movie-lovers worldwide when their supposed magnum opus of science-fiction filmmaking was finally unveiled theatrically. The first of two sequels unfortunately fell victim to the powerfully tragic fate of outrageous expectation and unmeasurable hype, an ambitious venture overwhelmed by an exceedingly disappointed audience that received something strangely unexpected and different from the story that influenced and inspired so many.
The Matrix Reloaded is a deeply complex amalgamation of sensibilities and ideas, a gargantuan undertaking of ambition representing everything successful and unsuccessful about the trilogy. Reloaded finally revealed the core thematic content and overall direction the story would take, a striking development that divided the most faithful viewer with its narrative leaps and surprising turns. This seemingly sharp deviation from the structure of the original caused more harm than expected, and struck an uncomfortable nerve with its audience. However, is that deviation from the original necessarily a terrible thing? While it certainly calls for a period of adjustment, the narrative has to be more fully explored in order to build an arc. And exploration is always shaky when the established source material was considered so effective. No matter where the Wachowski Brothers took their story, it would be increasingly difficult to deliver on the expectation that had been blown out of proportion. The Matrix Reloaded had a near impossible task of pleasing every fan of the original, and the Wachowskis should be commended for staying true to their material, and exploring and delving into new territory so confidently. Instead of retreading over familiar ground, the filmmakers insisted on creating something entirely new, following their integrity and passion as serious storytellers keen on bringing something uniquely extensive to the screen.
To accomplish such aims in a trilogy is something extremely arduous and rare, especially when its completely original material. The Wachowskis definitely stumble throughout the second film, but their vision is so vast and demanding that it carries on through the flaws and still impressively entertains and fascinates. Reloaded is huge, as every middle chapter should be, and it requires a substantial investment that is understandably challenging for an unprepared viewer. But that challenge is exactly why the Matrix films are so special and significant. These films, especially Reloaded, are densely layered thematic triumphs disguised as sci-fi adventures, and that enthralling combination of storytelling is why The Matrix Trilogy matters. Reloaded is a troubled, but pivotal inclusion to that vision.
“I’m in”
The Matrix Reloaded opens with the sensational thrills we’ve come to expect from the Wachowski Brothers. The opening sequence is a visual feast, while immediately creating an interesting emotional dilemma for the characters as well an uneasy feeling of intensity for the viewer. Basically, The Matrix Reloaded begins with everything audiences expected to be promised throughout the entire film: spectacular set-pieces and special effects. Trinity’s opening battle is quickly revealed as a nightmarish vision our main hero, Neo, experiences in his sleep, something that will obviously be explored later in the film. This is a solid way to reload (sorry for the pun) your attachment to the characters and story in an entirely new setting. The Wachowskis wisely set-up a mysterious sense of danger at the outset the film, something they effectively follow-up towards the conclusion. It’s evident that Reloaded will focus on some sort of struggle between love and death, a clear thematic arc that powerfully works its way into the overall themes of choice and purpose that define the second film.
Most interesting about the opening of Reloaded is the sense of vulnerability given to not only Trinity, but Neo. He may be an invincible force within the Matrix, but his concern about his destiny and the effect it will have on the woman he loves is the cause of much distress. The first noticeable change is the character Link (Harold Perrineau), the new operator of the Neb. The absence of Tank winds up marring the film a lot more than expected. While Perrineau (an undeniably talented actor) provides a heartfelt performance as the skeptic operator eventually converted to strong belief, it’s already too late in the story to spend so much time with him. The performance is fine, but the character himself ultimately results in dead time. Had Tank still been the operator, our emotional investment and interest would have been much deeper in this character.
Neo and Trinity have a quiet conversation about his lack of understanding his purpose as the savior, and the need to contact the Oracle for information. This leads into the first sequence of hefty exposition, with several captains conversing about the machines plan to destroy Zion in 72 hours. And this sequence is the very first indication that The Matrix Reloaded will not be flawless. There’s something awkward and clunky about this segment, and not just because we’re being introduced to several new and uninteresting characters. This is the first time we see aspects of military procedures and operations used by a collective group of Zion captains. The entire segment feels like an excessive way to get across information, an uneasy way to lead into the most questionable and precarious section of the film.
“This is Zion. And we are not afraid”
Expectation of what exactly Zion would look like, what civilization would be like, and how important it would be to the overall film was nearly impossible to determine prior to release. Everyone had a concept of Zion based on conversations in the original film - a concept that was eagerly anticipated in Reloaded. Since everything in the Matrix was built with complexity, it would be wisely hypothetical to expect Zion to follow a similar route of dense sci-fi intellections. Expectation of experiencing something new and ground-breaking was the most enticing element of the sequels, and the eagerly awaited reveal of Zion was the primary focus of that experience. Unfortunately, Zion wound up being far more simplistic than initially imagined. Zion, and this entire section early on in Reloaded is a clear case of imaginative conceptual vision deflated by poor choices, subplots, characters, and pacing. It’s not entirely debauched, since so many interesting ideas are on display, but the majority of screen-time is overly problematic. This section hinders the first act significantly, and puts the film in a shaky place leading to the second and emotionally charged third acts.
The entrance to Zion is nothing short of spectacular. As the Neb reaches the gate, enters the dock, and finds a secure landing space, the overwhelming visual effects create a particularly strong sense of wonder and amazement at just how enormous and detailed the environment is. In this short sequence, we get some fascinating insight into how mechanical and technologically advanced everything is in Zion. We see an enormous defense system compiled of heavy artillery both inside and outside the dock. The visual effects here are mesmerizing. On a purely visual level, the entire layout of Zion - the gate, dock, council chambers, living quarters, and temple are astonishing. The Wachowski Brothers and conceptual designer Geoff Darrow did a tremendous job of envisioning a futuristic city like we’ve never seen. The design works effectively as being human, while subtly raising questions to just how logical and realistic it actually is - something that brilliantly works its way into the perspective altering ending. As the Neb descends into Zion we’re also presented with a beautiful image of the Zion mainframe, that sacred place protected from the Agents set on destroying it. It’s a striking image that follows the conceptual design of the construct from the original film. Once the Neb lands, Reloaded faces its worse stretch of material.
The very second Morpheus, Neo, Trinity, and Link enter the Zion dock is when the first of many static subplots are revealed. While creating new characters and stories is definitely a necessity when expanding a meticulously detailed universe, many of the choices in Zion just don’t work.
- Morpheus, Commander Locke, and Niobe:
The conflict between these two characters exists because of an unnecessary rivalry over an equally pointless character: Niobe. As Trinity dryly puts it, “Niobe used to be with Morpheus. Now she’s with Locke”. This forced romantic history adds absolutely nothing to either Morpheus or Locke’s characters, nor provides any emotional weight for their situations later in the story. Niobe is completely useless in Reloaded. For a movie that has its characters struggling for purpose, Niobe’s is absolutely baffling. She serves no purpose other than a piece of insignificant back-story for two already interesting characters. Niobe’s part in Reloaded has no arc, no pay-off, and no point. It feels like she’s there as a plot-device later in the film, one that winds up being terribly convoluted.
This is the first major misstep in Zion’s segment. Because of Niobe, the entire dynamic between Morpheus and Locke is regrettably affected, which is unfortunate since something fascinating exists between the two of them. Commander Locke provides the first indication that not everyone in Zion believes in Morpheus and his dependency on religious, prophetic visions. In fact, based on Locke’s reluctance towards the prophecy of the one, it seems as if the majority of Zion is unsure about Morpheus’ religious zealousness. This material is great - a perfect way to provoke second thoughts about what we understand about this universe. Suddenly Morpheus isn’t an enlightened guru of wisdom and insight, but a man struck by a particularly strong belief. This transition in his character is brilliant. It makes us uncertain about Neo’s quest, while strengthening our bond to Morpheus’ journey. This is another layer of complexity that brings another powerful emotional attachment to our heroes. And that difference between Locke and Morpheus is all that’s needed to justify the animosity between the two, especially since Lawrence Fishburne and Harry J. Lennix are so convincing in their roles. Niobe is excess.
- Link and Zee
Two characters who unfortunately add very little to the story. It’s not because of unworthy actors or dialogue, but because there is absolutely no reason why new characters should be given more time in Zion than Neo and Trinity. If Link were still Tank, than everything would be fine. Giving a character from the original sufficient back-story would be understandable, especially since that character is so beloved. Link, however, is a new character. A new character without the charisma or charm of Tank, and really no place in an already over-crowded film. Zee has no depth or appeal for an audience interested in Neo and Trinity. Most disappointing about this section is how little material is given to our main hero. One of the most awaited aspects of Zion was seeing how Neo relates to a community of religiously torn civilians. There’s an excellent moment when Neo and Trinity make their way to their living quarters, only to be greeted by hundreds of Zion natives looking for prayers from the savoir. This is exactly what should of been explored during this section of the film. Neo doesn’t have a single sequence in the council chambers and very little with other inhabitants of the last human city of which he’s supposed to save.
- The Kid
The idea of this character and his relationship to Neo is interesting. His segment in the Animatrix is one of the best, and it’s a shame his character doesn’t really lead anywhere in the sequels. He’s underdeveloped, and the result is yet another few wasted sequences that lead to narrative dead ends. He never joins the Neb, never figures out how he saved himself from the Matrix, and never does anything important until late in Revolutions. The lack of focus on Neo and Trinity is what hurts Zion the most. The main character should be more involved in Zion’s affairs since he’s easily their most prominent figure. In Reloaded, Neo almost feels like an outsider - a visitor inspecting land he just so happens to be interesting in saving. You never get the impression that Neo is bound to Zion or its people. The material he’s given is rather cold and distant.
The infamous celebration in Zion is perhaps the most unfairly maligned sequence in the entire film. The summation of poor sequences leading up to the celebration made it an easy target for strong resentment and complaint. The celebration itself is one of the most intriguing, well paced, and symbolic moments in the story. For a film dealing with concepts of war and death, the dance in Zion is a spectacular demonstration of the body and soul, a uniquely human trait intensely portrayed by an energetic crowd of free spirits. The dance is sensual, sexual, alive, emotional, and dangerous. The feeling of death and destruction looms over every movement - movement that represents the purest and most simplistic joy of the human spirit. Most importantly, it brings a feeling of togetherness and communion through the beauty and elegance of pulsating liveliness. The dance is beautifully intercut with another criterion of human passion, a love sequence between Neo and Trinity.
The imagery is exquisitely interwoven, resulting in a fairly potent piece of human symbolism and metaphor. Cinematographer Bill Pope does magnificent work in the entire trilogy, and this particular sequence represents the best of his abilities. He and uber production designer Owen Paterson bring a sufficiently earthy, dark, almost claustrophobic atmosphere to Zion, and this section demonstrates just how vital their contributions are in envisioning this world. And while Morpheus’ thunderous speech is undeniably awkward at specific moments, it’s still effective at presenting his passion for freedom and peace with his fierce leadership. Most special about this segment is a tender moment shared between Neo and Trinity after they’ve made love. This is precisely the emotional content necessary at this point in the story. It’s soft and sweet, a powerful reminder of how close and special they mean to each other. It also returns the focus on Neo, the character that leads the story.
This is about the point when the first major philosophical conversation presents itself. There are four philosophical pieces in Reloaded, two of which work tremendously, one that works satisfactorily, and one that winds up being excessive even though it’s well written and performed. Unfortunately, the first one between Councillor Hamann and Neo in the engineering room isn’t exactly necessary. The sequence itself is solid. Finally, a figure of importance in Zion is taking an interest in Neo, something seriously lacking from the sequences prior. Their conversation, however, is recapping information already established. It’s almost like the conversation exists just in case some of the audience was lost. The symbiosis between man and machine is perfectly clear at this juncture in the story. Machines need humans to survive. Obviously from the technology in Zion, humans need machines for survival. That philosophical conundrum of defining control is well developed simply through imagery. The complexity of the situation doesn’t need to be punctuated by a long conversation. It’s simply there, clear as can be. The Wachowski’s do find ways to insert visual clues for an upcoming twist and thematic messages of purpose throughout the sequence, but it’s not entirely needed. Anthony Zerbe and Keanu Reeves do solid work during this conversation, but it’s still something that could of been left out.
“Smith will suffice”
While Zion enjoys the warmth of celebration, Smith is busy copying himself on different hosts in the Matrix. No longer an Agent of the system, Smith becomes a virus bent on destruction and chaos, a symbol of nihilistic determination that could overthrow the stability of the Matrix itself. The reversal in Smith’s character is fascinating. Once a lifeless program that obeyed the laws of the Matrix, now an exile fueled by a passionate desire to disobey and destroy. He’s a computer generated entity indulging in a human need of self-satisfaction. And his satisfaction is apparently relishing the absurdity of existence by shattering it. The Wachowski Brothers create a mind-bending concept of bringing Smith into the real world by copying himself on a rebel and then using a hard-line to jack-out of the Matrix. The idea, like many in the film, is conceptually intriguing, but surprisingly unfulfilling. He’s central to the outcome of important circumstances later in the story, but the execution of this subplot is surprisingly dry in places. His material in Reloaded is obviously meant for further exploration in Revolutions, so every time he appears on-screen it’s a bit dull. He doesn’t feel as threatening as he should, nor does he add a sense of forthcoming tragedy or danger. That being said, his material in the real world in Reloaded is few and far between, so it doesn’t distract too much from the main story.
Speaking of the main story, our heroes return to the Matrix and the film begins to find some sure footing.
Neo returns to the matrix for information and guidance from the Oracle, and has one hell of an experience in the process. His encounter with Seraph is one of mystical and uncommon proportions, a challenge he’s never faced with a being unlike any he’s ever seen. The image of Seraph in Matrix code is stunning and dangerous, and the sequence that follows is thrilling and different. Seraph’s challenge is essentially the highest level of Neo’s training, designed specifically for the one. This sequence creates a wonderful symmetry with Neo’s training in the original, just under a more weighty and unexpected situation. Once Neo has proven his worth, Seraph reveals a new layer of the Matrix, appropriately titled: The Portal. These are tunnels used for programmers - a new discovery that leads Neo to question just how deep The Matrix leads. It also becomes perfectly clear that the Wachowski Brothers have many surprises up their sleeves. The world of the matrix is changing, and each new change is increasingly fascinating. Seraph reveals himself as the Oracle’s protector, and leads Neo to her. Time for the second notable philosophical conversation.
The reunion of Neo and the Oracle is comforting and fascinating. The sequence works in several ways, even if some of the dialogue is clunky at times. First and foremost, it’s an absolute pleasure to see Gloria Foster reprising her role. She’s fantastic as the Oracle, the most charming and sophisticated character in the trilogy, and her playful sense of humor is somehow perfectly fitting to the serious tone of the story. Her chemistry with Keanu Reeves is just as good as ever in this sequence, which is especially impressive considering the content of their conversation. In this one conversation, the Oracle becomes a figment of uncertainty. She’s revealed as a program, and a whole new layer of manipulation and control presents itself to Neo. Can he trust her? Is she controlling him? What exactly is her purpose in the matrix? One of the great things about Reloaded is how brilliantly the Wachowski Brothers raise so many different questions.
The entire film is about questioning the nature of the system, and this sequence between Neo and the Oracle is extremely important to that train of thought. Each new concept the Oracle presents is intriguing: Programs, exiles, Trinity, the source. The world of the matrix is expanding, and the Oracle makes it perfectly clear that it’s not exactly what it seems. The Matrix isn’t simply a system made to enslave humans, but also a home for programs and machines. As the Oracle says, “I’m interested in the future, Neo. And the only way to get there is together”. As layers and layers of the Matrix are peeled away, it becomes increasingly difficult for Neo to understand his path. This predicament is what develops Neo as a character. His journey is not an easy one. It’s not just about who he can defeat in battle, it’s about understanding the full capacities of the world he’s attempting to change. This conversation with the Oracle is excellent. Beyond the adventure, these movies are profound, and that substance is what matters.
The Burly Brawl is arguably the most spectacular set-piece in Reloaded, while simultaneously being the most frustrating. The conceptual vision of this sequence is incredible, and it’s a testament to the Wachowski Brothers abilities that it even remotely works. First off, Keanu Reeves, Hugo Weaving, and the many stunt men should all be commended for their absolutely stellar work during this piece. The choreography by master Yuen Woo Ping is complex and astonishing, and the actors do amazing work in making it seem so fluid and believable. The structure of the burly brawl is nearly flawless. Its pacing is precise and lean, its score and sound effects perfectly tuned and executed. People are fairly dismissive of the overall success of the burly brawl because of the CGI excess towards the conclusion of the sequence. For the most part, the scene is exactly like any other in the trilogy, only increased in size and scope. The prolonged shot of CGI characters battling in and out of bullet time is where the Burly Brawl becomes uneven. The idea is imaginative, but the result is flustering. Good, old-fashioned bullet-time effects would’ve been much more effective, rather than a completely unnecessary use of motion-capture. The effect disrupts the sequence, even if the imagination involved is incredible. The only truly astonishing piece of effects on display is during the final shot of Neo bursting through hundreds of Smiths. The image is awe-inspiring spectacle that only the Wachowskis understand how to accomplish on film. It’s a great sequence, and a perfect way to lead into the strongest stretch of the entire movie.
“Choice is an illusion, created between those with power, and those without”
The infamous chocolate cake sequence with the Merovingian is one of the most pleasing, entertaining, and philosophically intriguing in the entire film. As a complex conversation about the nature of choice, reason, and understanding, it’s one of the best written pieces in the trilogy. The Merovingian has a deliciously pretentious personality, and his smooth, intellectual condescension is one of the most enjoyable segments in the film. Lambert Wilson does priceless work. His sly sense of humor and elitist passion make him surprisingly likeable, even if he is a “pompous prick”. His insight is fascinating, and his manner is exactly what makes this sequence so classic. The restaurant and chateau are my favorite sets in Reloaded, and Owen Paterson and the Wachowski Brothers did excellent work in imagining these locations. The detail and atmosphere is meticulous and slick, and the results are tremendous. Many interesting characters are introduced at this point in Reloaded, and all of them have terrific material. Monica Belluchi is particularly good as the sneaky, vampire like sex bomb Persephone, and her chemistry with Lambert Wilson and Keanu Reeves is great in their respective sequences. The Twins are simple representations of style, and they deliver on that promise in spades. The Keymaker is a wondrous little character, one that I hope gets appropriate back-story in some other medium. The premise of a program that has access to all the different facets of the system is an interesting idea that should be fully explored.
The struggle to obtain the Keymaker leads to the longest stretch of set-pieces in the film, and the only way it can be adequately described is “epic”. The chateau battle is my absolute favorite piece of choreography in The Matrix Reloaded, a sequence that represents the best of Yuen Woo Ping, Bill Pope, editor Z. Staenberg, Keanu Reeves, and of course, the Wachowski Brothers. This battle between Neo and several of the Merovingian’s ruthless programs jumps up and down the magnificent two story set by Owen Paterson with beautiful elegance.
The chase sequence is the most confident set-piece in Reloaded. This sequence is long and enthralling, and it really speaks for itself. What they accomplished here is extraordinary, and it will be remembered.
“I am the Architect. I created the matrix”
The last act of The Matrix Reloaded is the most rewarding in terms of ingeniously structured and profoundly original storytelling. The last thirty minutes of Reloaded reveal a startling discovery about the very nature of the matrix and the function of the one, changing everything we know about the universe itself. Discoveries such as this are what define these films, and the Wachowski Brothers do an outstanding job of increasing interest and thought about how complex and inspiring their imaginations are. Reaching the source of the matrix is where the path of the one ends, and where the prophecy is supposedly fulfilled. As Morpheus clearly states, “What if the prophecy is true. What if tomorrow the war could be over. Isn’t that worth fighting for? Isn’t that worth dying for?” This is the moment of truth for every character, figuratively and literally, no matter what concept of truth they have.
The objectives needed to reach the source involve a few too many characters and turns for its own good, but achieving this mission shouldn’t be an easy task. The Wachowski Brothers do a relatively smooth job of cross-cutting the exposition and execution of the mission, building the suspense and creating a rather looming presence of forthcoming danger. Once the moment of truth arrives, you can hardly stand the excitement. And does the moment deliver? Absolutely.
The sequence with the Architect (the most fascinating character in the trilogy) is the best written and performed moment in the trilogy. There is something almost mystical about how effective, brilliant, and perplexing the Architect’s monologue reveals itself. It’s the ultimate plot point, the ultimate dialogue, and the ultimate sequence. The Matrix movies are intellectual undertakings, and this one, single sequence truly represents the best of the Wachowski Brothers. The brothers are highly underrated as writers, and this one speech should be highlighted. I’d like to use this opportunity to present the best piece in the entire conversation, so eloquently delivered by expert performer Helmut Bakaitis:
Architect: The function of the one is now to return to the source allowing a temporary dissemination of the code you carry, reinserting the prime program. After which you will be required to select from the matrix twenty-three individuals, sixteen female, seven male to rebuild Zion. Failure to comply with this process with result in a cataclysmic system crash killing everyone connected to the Matrix, which coupled with the extermination of Zion will ultimately result in the extinction of the entire human race.
The reveal of the prophecy being another level of control, the Matrix being centuries older than anyone knows, and the truth of the construction of Zion is all exceptionally done. The information in this sequence is released rapidly and densely, but it’s incredible material handled with vision and originality. The unveiling of the truth is shockingly unexpected, yet completely sensible when looked at realistically. Of course the prophecy is another system of control. Of course the machines built and rebuild Zion. Of course the one is an anomaly within the program used to restart and reprogram the Matrix. All of the reveals make perfect, logical sense when closely examined within the context of the universe. The Wachowski Brothers stay true to the internal realism and philosophy they initially created, and their pure imagination on display is astounding. The universe of the Matrix is deeply complex, and this sequence demonstrates just how dark and disturbing this futuristic landscape truly is. The sequence with the Architect basically debunks all of our hopes and wishes for the success of our heroes, leaving the characters and audience in a particularly dreary and helpless state. The machines are clearly in control, and absolute victory over this oppressive force is absolutely incapable of happening.
Neo’s choice at the end of the conversation is a classic hero’s moment. He’s faced with an enormous choice, and follows his heart and love to sacrifice Zion and the humans connected to the matrix to save the woman he loves. This is a choice his five predecessors couldn’t fathom, choosing to sacrifice the one in order to save the many. Neo, however, isn’t our typical hero. This view on the character could be troubling for some. Neo doesn’t consider the consequences for choosing to save Trinity and not returning to the source. He simply saves her because he has to. Where he goes from there is uncertain and possibly devastating, but that risk is exactly why he ends up prevailing. The Architect sequence is what truly makes this movie work. The adventure is as thrilling as it is because the ideas behind it are visionary.
Neo is an anomaly created by the machines in order to facilitate a connection to humans, while acting as a tool to stabilize the world in which they inhabit. His fullest capabilities are slowly revealed to be much greater and surprising at the end of Reloaded, something that brilliantly leads into the final film. Reloaded raises all of the questions, and makes you eagerly anticipate the answers. And it’s that sort of excitement that solidifies Reloaded’s place as a more than worthy middle chapter in an extremely accomplished trilogy |