The “holy crap, what am I seeing?” moment comes during the final chase, in which the new iteration of Agent Smith possesses the bodies plugged into the Matrix in an attempt to kill Neo and Trinity. The Analyst even mentions it when he is tormenting Anderson/Neo during a moment of great peril, but nothing on the screen pops just yet. The new entry will need to find its “bullet time”, the effect from the 1999 movie in which Neo arched backward, the camera swirled around, and time seemed to stand still. Yes, all the heavy metaphysics was part of it, but it also looked cool! When Anderson and his group of game developers are mapping out their sequel, they realise that there was something ineffable about the first Matrix. Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, left, and Jessica Henwick in The Matrix Resurrections. Of course, what the Analyst doesn’t realise is that an even stronger force emerges when Neo and Trinity work together: the power of true love. Heartache, woe and general bad vibes certainly seem ubiquitous of late, and The Matrix Resurrections suggests this is due to a malevolent computer program pushing our psyches for a little extra juice. I think we’re all going to need a second viewing to nail this down, but the most interesting aspect is how Harris’s Analyst, basically serving the same purpose as the original trilogy’s Architect, has found a way to draw more power out of pod-sleeping humans by tormenting them with what we in the Jewish faith call tsuris. But the big question is what, exactly, is this new Matrix that Anderson (and Moss’s “Tiffany”) find themselves in? The other strange thing about this modal is that a hacker named Bugs (Jessica Henwick) from “the real world” (the world where Neo, Trinity and Morpheus once fought for Zion) somehow (and don’t ask me how) gets into Anderson’s new modal. (We’ll discover the real Morpheus died a while ago, and it’s been a lot longer than the 20 years we think has passed.) Two things happen: first, a program (played by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) assumes the identity of Morpheus, Laurence Fishburne’s character from the original trilogy. Photograph: APĪnderson’s niggling unease inspires him to create a “modal”, a little program that independently tries to get to the root of the fabric of existence. It gets stranger when we see how Anderson based his soulmate Trinity on a gal he sees at his local coffee shop (called the Simulatte, ha ha ha), played by Carrie-Anne Moss, who also has a sense something about the world is off. (This is, essentially, what happened to Wachowski in the weirdest reality of all: Hollywood.) In a wildly self-referential turn, Anderson is informed that he must make a sequel to his original Matrix trilogy, as corporate overlords Warner Bros are going to do it with or without his involvement. If so, then The Matrix trilogy as we know it was just a game series that Anderson created, and the peculiar feeling he has about the world around him is something he needs to work through with his analyst, played by Neil Patrick Harris.īut the line between fiction and reality in Anderson’s life gets even blurrier at the same time that it does in The Matrix Resurrections’s script. Could this be the true base reality, not the story of The Nebuchadnezzar and The One liberating Zion from The Architect and the Machines? It’s no longer 1999, it’s 2021, or so we think. After an introduction to new characters (who are somehow inside the first scene of The Matrix? Is this the Holodeck?) we check back in with Keanu Reeves’s Neo, only he’s back as an office drone, plugging away as Thomas Anderson.
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