The Matrix Resurrections is a sequel to four, previous movies (that's counting an animated anthology, of course) which to say the least, proved influential in the action-movie arena. This new chapter is delivered by one half of the franchise's faithful, sister writer/director team, Lana Wachowski; but the submission has a detached aura about it. That's not to say it stands on its own, but rather works as a reawakening of an idea that one can delve into without knowing much about what came before. (I suppose that's a good thing, in that Resurrections holds the ability to appease faithful fans, while opening the door for intrigued first-timers.)
As Resurrections stands, the saga's Christ-like hero, Neo, aka Thomas Anderson (Keanu Reeves), initially acts as a meeting-clogged, video-game designer. His revived recollection is more of a gradual, Philip K. Dick eye-opener, where he learns of the mythology's artificial-intelligence realm through quirky perseverance, and as he embarks upon the startling discovery, all feels fresh, as do its attached explanations. With this, the concept's prevailing question once more strikes: Does it matter if all that we see is real or fake, as long as we're nurtured? (In other words, is being imprisoned in a soft, fabricated reality acceptable or should we shatter it for autonomy's sake? The political allusions aren't hard to decipher.)
Neo's romantic, reborn pal, Trinity, aka Tiffany (Carrie-Anne Moss), experiences the same what-do-ya-know? revelation, albeit in smaller increments, as she joins her soul mate in an is-it-or-is-it-not-San-Francisco? to sustain the last, veritable city called Zion (once annihilated but perhaps merely misplaced). Indeed, an "etcetera" modul for this tricky turf and snug as a bug because of it.
Accompanying our dynamic duo is Morpheus and Mr. Smith (now played by Yahya Abdul Mateen II and Jonathan Groff respectively), who (depending on the instance) either trip our protagonists' equivocation back to blissful blindness or an exaltation of symbolic truth. To parallel their presence, the returning Niobe (Jada Pinkett Smith) and Neo's frank-to-a-fault "analyst" (Neil Patrick Harris) perform the same service, each attempting to center the conflicting circumstances.
The objective is Twilight Zone/Tron-ish, the seeds of which were planted in the original Matrix: an opulent overlap of dictatorial technology and merciless other-worldliness. Resurrections, however, isn't as non-stop thrill-laden as the original or its back-to-back, live-action entries. This is beneficial since all that pill-popping/overdosing psychedelia had a tendency of smothering the saga's characters. But action fans should fear not: A pretty persona named Bugs (Jessica Yu-Li Henwick) keeps things ricocheting with abundant, kung-fu kick.
Beyond its existential commentary and revolving, CGI layers, Resurrections also has the surprising audacity to poke fun at its foundation without being snarky. We're talking the sort of good-natured humor that makes Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home so endearing.
Even with its in-on-the-joke elements, Resurrections doesn't once reinvent the surreal wheel. It reinstates what fans desire with just enough insinuations to birth additional sequels. As such, The Matrix has long held the potential for vast exploration through a variety of interred platforms and sources. If WB's execs are smart, they'll shake the spectrum further. The sky's still the limit with this reality-bending franchise. Why let such thought-provoking posterity perish?
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