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In this blog’s retrospective film review series, we’ve covered the movie that’s more Matrix than The Matrix and the one that’s vampires + The Matrix. But in all the excitement, I forgot to review the actual Matrix.
Let’s correct that oversight.
Directed by the Wachowskis back when they were still the Wachowski Brothers, The Matrix is a groundbreaking work that changed the science fiction and action genres forever.
In the post-Cultural Ground Zero wasteland of 1999, it looked like challenging cinema was a relic of the past. Then this film burst onto the scene to take viewers on a mind-bending adventure that challenged their conception of reality.
It’s not a stretch to posit that all the bugmen giving TED talks on simulation theory would be peddling some other stoner claptrap if not for this movie.
That’s how big a cultural explosion The Matrix was.
Act I introduces us to Neo, a computer programmer played by Keanu Reeves who discovers a hidden world beneath what he thought was reality. This dark, dystopian … and green atmosphere does make fore quite the immersive experience.
Cascading noir-ish misadventures lead Neo deeper into this alternate existence. And a series of revolutionary action set pieces Hollywood still hasn’t managed to top ensue.
That’s pretty much the movie. Its core premise of humans trapped in a simulated reality sparked widespread freshman dorm-level philosophizing that persists to this day. The fact that everyone thought these basic treatments of free will, imminence, and identity were deep speaks to an even more profound crisis of meaning.
Which brings us to perhaps this film’s most enduring cultural artifact. In the course of playing Obi-Wan to Neo, Laurence Fishburne’s enigmatic Morpheus introduces the notorious red pill-blue pill dichotomy. Everyone from internet pickup artists to outsider politicos now uses this meme to symbolize the choice between facing harsh reality or embracing comfortable illusions.
One standout aspect of The Matrix is a storytelling technique that’s near and dear to my heart, as well: genre-bashing. The Wachowskis blend elements from cyberpunk, martial arts, and dystopian science fiction into a compelling setting that feels dreamlike yet eerily plausible. This fusion of genres hit the sweet spot that pretty much all of this film’s many imitators missed, appealing to fans of action, pure sci-fi, and experimental think pieces.
One unsung reason this risky combination works is Keanu Reeves’ understated performance. He’s taken his share of flak for wooden acting, though his later work has helped him shake off the stigma. But the Wachowskis knew that if you want to immerse audiences in a dream world of shifting identities, your protagonist needs to be an everyman. Even Neo’s “real” name of Thomas A. Anderson signals that Reeves’ blank canvas portrayal is a deliberate choice.
A hero is only as effective as his villain. And Hugo Weaving’s Agent Smith provides an iconic foil that devilishly complements Reeves’ Neo. Smith’s flat affect and possession of a similar nondescript name position him as a dark mirror relative to Neo – the two of them thrust into conflict yet more alike than either would care to admit.
About the only genre element that’s not firing on all cylinders is the romance between Neo and Carrie-Anne Moss’s Trinity. Moss does a decent job with the role she’s given, but it doesn’t help that said role is a late 90s waif-fu blackbelt proto-girlboss. The love subplot between her and Neo is forced in the most literal sense – she receives a prophecy dictating that she’ll fall in love with the One – so the reverse Snow White Act III plot turn feels as inorganic as the machine intelligences that enslaved humanity in the first place. Yet the resulting payoff that brings the film’s climax to a stand-up-and-cheer conclusion makes it work retroactively.
The Matrix has already secured its place in history as the last IP driven by independent vision to ignite a pop culture explosion. And with good reason. It’s a landmark action flick wedded to thought-provoking pop philosophy, by way of groundbreaking visual spectacle. It remains a genre-blending masterpiece that’s as relevant today as it was on release. And with Hollywood having been trapped in the IP milking phase for two decades with no sign of escape, The Matrix‘s continued relevance is secure.
Whether you’re a wire-fu junkie, a sci fi devotee, or you once skimmed a philosophy textbook, you’ll be mesmerized by The Matrix‘s breakthrough visuals, adrenaline-pumping adventure, and mind-warping twists. Watch it tonight.
And for more pulse-pounding dystopian adventure, read my epic mech thriller saga:
The Matrix came along at a time when all of the things you listed were gone (cyberpunk, action, martial arts, think piece, and dystopian stories) and was a momentary breath of fresh-air in a climate that was really getting stale. Like Blade, it does have faults, but most of them are overlooked for the simple fact that this was pretty much all we had at the time, though I will say this one does have less issues overall. The less said about the sequels the better.
In many ways, however, this was also the end of all those things because The Matrix as a whole soon dragged them into an amorphous cultural blob that would forever tie all these things together as one style and one execution. Matrix parodies lasted for years for a reason, but also try and find an action movie without the camera tricks and wire-fu, cyberpunk without black trenchcoats and short hair, or a think piece that isn’t some level of this same gnostic idea.
In many ways, The Matrix was the first sign of the end of pop culture and the beginning of the pop cult monster that consumed anything it wrapped its tendrils around.
Related to the topic of film, this Twitter thread masterfully discusses exactly what modern movies are missing (aside from the writing, that is): https://twitter.com/tonytost/status/1699234950472675535
“The less said about the sequels the better.”
One memory that still sticks with me is walking out of The Matrix: Reloaded on opening weekend and my college buddy lamenting “This was supposed to be our generation’s Star Wars, but they screwed it up.”
For a second I felt a creeping dread of the cultural scourge you spoke of: the fear that American cinema could no longer produce generational touchstones as it had just 20 years before (at that time).
That may have been the moment I first became aware of Cultural Ground Zero.
At last somebody who agrees that there should have only been one Matrix movie. When this came out I was working as a movie projectionist for some years and also hip-deep in both self-taught and college-level computer tech courses.
My impression at the time was that humanity probably surrendered itself to the embrace of the technology and it turned out to be a Faustian bargain. No need of rebelling robot slaves conquering us as in the later canon.
Which means that the true likely danger I perceived back then (of the Singularity / transhumanists) was overlooked in favor of the external threat.
We have changed in response to the technology instead of the other way around, and our would-be global overlords find that just fine with them.
The thing I found infuriating about The Matrix is how it is constantly using Biblical and classical names in ways that don’t MEAN anything!
Okay, Morpheus’ name works. But why on earth is his ship the Nebuchadnezzar? We’re evidently supposed to feel that it means something deep, but it’s not at all clear what. Any resonance to his former girlfriend being Niobe? Nope.
Likewise, in one of sequels there’s a councilor of Zion named Haman, of all things. Nice old guy, don’t know why his mom saddled him with a name like that.