Five years ago, amidst a sea of recycled cinematic tropes, something truly fresh finally emerged. It didn't really matter whether the science held up or not; what mattered was that it was a film that left you feeling fulfilled. When we walked out of the theater, there wasn't that lingering sense of emptiness, that longing for $8.25 (or maybe just a desperate need for a new Broadway ticket—$9.75!?) or that immediate sense of being forgotten the second the house lights flickered on.
Once word got out that two more "sequels" were coming (that’s the trendy buzzword in Hollywood lately—a TRILOGY), we were all practically counting down the days to see how the threads would be pulled together, depending on which fan theory you happened to subscribe to.
Then the first "sequel" arrived, and the sobering reality set in...
Even then, we tried to comfort ourselves. We told ourselves, "Hey, it's just the middle chapter; it doesn't need a beginning or an end." We drew comparisons to *The Two Towers*, insisting the situation was identical, though deep down, we feared exactly what ended up happening last Wednesday...
The third installment was the final nail in the coffin for our hopes and theories regarding what that masterpiece from five years ago could become. What we were left with was nothing more than a stripped-down, mega-popcorn-coke blockbuster. Its primary goals seemed to be showcasing a fifteen-minute highway demolition derby (in part two) and a loud, messy battle for Zion (in part three). Haven't we had enough of those? I have to ask those who argue that special effects are a valid reason to praise this series: since when did spectacle become the sole merit of a film?
And the story? The narrative devolved into some quasi-religious fable about a savior who completes his mission and ascends to legend. As the series progressed, it drifted further away from substance, relying on clunky, cringeworthy dialogue that even a mediocre daytime soap opera wouldn't touch—lines like, "Your eyes, Neo... actually, never mind," or "Thank you for everything, wherever you may be..." and so on.
It feels foolish to list the other flaws, because this post would easily outlast the flimsy scripts of the two sequels combined. But between the absurdity of introducing supposedly vital characters in the second film only for them to vanish without explanation in the third, the depiction of a beautiful sunny day on a "destroyed" Earth, and that pathetic five-minute death scene for the most unlikable character in cinema history ten years ago—not to mention those lines that feel like they were penned by a third-rate novelist—the takeaway is clear. That's the exact mood I had leaving the theater at 1:00 AM this past Saturday: pure disappointment and muttered comments like, "...we should have gone somewhere else," or "...I know, but hey, the soundtrack is good, right?"... and so forth.
As the saying goes, it seems those of us who watched the original *Matrix* had far more profound ideas about how to develop and conclude this saga than the people actually making it, who were clearly preoccupied with simply recouping their investment.
It also becomes glaringly obvious why *Matrix* was released globally all at once. It's clear that even the creators realized the film might only "survive" its initial opening weekend before the word gets out and it sinks rapidly.
That's all from me, a very disillusioned fan...