A Look Back at the Matrix Trilogy

A Guest Cinematic Autopsy by Andrew Wells

Return again with me, if you will, to the heady days of 1999, as a sci-fi movie was shaking the world. No, I’m not talking about Star Wars Episode One. I meant The Matrix.

The appeal of the first Matrix movie was that a viewer could look at it on multiple levels: enjoy it as an action yarn, or as a thesis on the nature of reality. It worked for the mainstream audience as well as for those who were passionately excited about it [hereafter referred to as the “fan base”].

Lots of money was made. Sequels were demanded. And that is where things begin to go askew, and where my autopsy begins.

The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions (abbreviated as Re and Rev from this point on) fall into that rarest of all movie categories: movies that are ambitious, reach for the stars, and fail. I wanted both these movies to succeed, to be great; but when I finally viewed them, no matter how cool the action scenes were, no matter how much great intellectual discussion they threw at me, I knew the movies were flawed, and being the passionate movie person that I am, it tore my heart out. I mean, I’m still thinking about it, and it’s been two years. And judging by Internet chatter, I’m not the only one. The box office speaks too: Re made over $250 million at the theaters; Rev barely made $125 million. Somewhere along the way, people got burned.

What went wrong? I offer up three reasons:

When it gets down to it, they are still movies. The original Matrix successfully appealed to a mainstream audience while maintaining a fan base. Even with all the intellectual discussion, plot and character were never sacrificed. Movie-wise, everything clicked, like the tumblers in a safe. After several viewings, I believe that Re (especially) and Rev (less so) succeed in expanding on the ideas and principles introduced in Matrix. There is a lot to sift through and understand; the material is denser; and, unfortunately, it is not always presented or demonstrated clearly. Nevertheless, it satisfies the fan base.

But the mainstream audience is coming to see a great movie, with a strong plot and good characters. And that is where Re and Rev stumble. There are many problems, so let’s look at a noticeable one: the character of Morpheus.

Morpheus serves the classic mentor role in Matrix. He provides the wisdom and faith for Neo so that he can discover his true self. However, at the end of Re his faith is completely shattered by what Neo learns about the Matrix. A character in crisis—it’s a common movie device, especially in sequels (The Empire Strikes Back being Exhibit A). But in Rev, we don’t see or learn anything about how Morpheus is dealing with his crisis of faith. We barely see him: after a fairly substantial role in Re, he may have at most ten scenes in Rev. His part in the plot is never finished and his character is never resolved, disappointing the mainstream audience, who are expecting the movies to play fair.

Misjudging what an audience will do. For the sequels, the Wachowski Brothers (the directors) decided to tell their story through several different sources. A series of short cartoons (shown in theaters and online, and then collected on DVD as The Animatrix) were created, with some providing important plot information for the sequels. A video game was also developed, again providing plot information.

For the fan base, that’s more Matrix to enjoy. But for audiences who neither watch cartoons nor play video games it’s a real liability. Without the knowledge learned from other sources, the movies can be hard to follow. For example, who is the (very annoying) kid following Neo around Zion? If you don’t see one of the cartoons, you’ll never know. The movies should have been able to stand on their own.

Finally, the creative control went to the director’s heads. This is pure speculation on my part. Generally, it is the dream of every movie director to have creative control of a project—to not have suggestions made by editors or producers or test audiences. Indeed, I believe movies made by committee are usually the worse for it; but sometimes it is helpful (Casablanca is an outstanding example). Being fairly new in Hollywood at the time, I seriously doubt the Wachowskis had the clout to get creative control for Matrix—too much money (at least $60 million, probably more) was involved. With Re and Rev the Wachowskis had the clout to get complete creative control. With complete control, however, you can wind up in a vacuum, not able to get any feedback or advice from outside your viewpoint. The danger then becomes that when you show your movie to the audience, they might not understand what you were trying to do. I think that is what happened here.

So there you have it—what went wrong and maybe why. No doubt, there will probably be disagreement with my theories. That’s encouraged. As for me, anytime I catch one of the Matrix movies, some part of me will be sad about what could have been.

You can contact Andrew Wells at arwell012002@yahoo.com