Why is matrix reloaded so bad

Still, what if The Matrix Resurrections is a fresh start for the series? It can't be any worse than Reloaded or Revolutions, right? After all, it's been 20 years since The Matrix arrived in theaters and proceeded to tear our brains apart, forever making us wonder if we're living in some kind of computer simulation--we totally are, by the way. It was a revolutionary film, loaded with interesting sci-fi concepts, incredible special effects, and some truly memorable performances from the likes of Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne, and Carrie-Anne Moss.

More than revolutionary, though, it's simply great. The Matrix is a practically perfect film, even when you sit down and watch it 20 years later. So much about it feels iconic, and it's all played so well, from the incredibly understated opening moments to the final showdown between Neo and Agent Smith in a dirty hallway. Unfortunately, everything that worked so well in the first movie completely fell away from the sequels that followed.

The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions might look like the first movie and the same characters may appear, but all of the soul The Matrix has is simply gone by the time the third movie rolls around. Instead of the restraint the first film showed, which helped drive the narrative forward, Reloaded and Revolutions instead relied on heavy use of the visual trickery introduced in The Matrix and a convoluted story that lifted up Neo to be something of a computer Jesus and the only hope for all of human- and robot-kind.

These are movies that weren't regarded as good in the first place and have only gotten worse with age. They are the albatross hanging around the neck of the original.

The Matrix is an achievement on practically every level. However, the films that followed have done nothing but drag it down. Does it sound like I'm being a bit too hard on Reloaded and Revolutions?

I assure you I'm not. I actually went back and watched the entire trilogy, from start to finish, and couldn't help but note every mistake I felt the sequels made. From the sillier moments like the orgy in Zion to bigger problems like what the movies chose to do with Smith, there's plenty to take issue with. Then, go ahead and watch the first Matrix again and realize just how wonderful that movie is. The Matrix is a true study in restraint. The first half hour of the movie feels like a low-budget thriller that hooks you in with story and character.

Reloaded, however, goes a different route. The opening moments of the sequel set the incredibly loud and often obnoxious tone of what's to come with explosions, an overabundance of "bullet time" shots, and so much of everything that makes these movies inferior to the original.

If everyone needs to get together to chat about destroying the Matrix, is the best place to do it really inside of the Matrix? A Matrix filled with Agents, a rogue Agent Smith, and all kinds of things designed to stop them. They do have CB radios in their ships. Maybe they'd be better off talking over those. Listen, I get it. Neo learned to fly at the end of the first movie and, if I were in his place, I'd make use of the superpower too.

So much of this movie is just Neo taking off or flying around, though. It's, honestly, pretty ridiculous. Visually, this moment looks super cool. But why is some of the security team guarding Zion's gates plugged into a Matrix-like program, while others aren't?

What purpose does it possibly serve? We all know this scene. We've all been confused by this scene. When Zion parties, things get wildly erotic--and I'm not talking about the Neo and Trinity sex scene, which is mostly awkward since the two don't have a ton of chemistry.

The next character we meet, the Merovingian, employs a whole bunch of these programs as thugs. As a result, the most maligned scene in the film, where Neo confronts the Colonel Sanders-esque Architect, is probably the most interesting from a story point of view. To put it as simply as possible, the critical flaw with this scene on its surface is that it uses too many big words.

The Architect scene is the perfect example of this. Both fights between them in this one have Neo and Smith each gaining the upper hand repeatedly, before Neo flees rather than continuing to fight endlessly. As the Architect implies, the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. But even the more relevant story beats are only part of the larger purpose of moving the pieces around in time for the third film.

The Matrix Revolutions is long overdue for a re-assessment. There, I said it. In that six months between films, it would be a massive understatement to say that expectations were diminished from the pre- Reloaded hype.

With some distance and hindsight, Revolutions is a far better film because if the Wachowskis really did make up these sequels after the first one became so popular, then the endgame was probably the first thing they came up with. In so many areas where Reloaded failed to expand upon the central themes of the series or move the plot forward, Revolutions succeeds with bells on. In the same vein as Reloaded , it comes across as a little flabby in the beginning. Meanwhile, his treachery in the real world has left Zion missing a number of ships ahead of the massive Sentinel assault headed their way.

Consistent with their showdowns in Reloaded , neither of them outright wins or loses — Smith blinds his enemy in the scrap, but gets his human head taken off by Neo for his trouble.

Meanwhile, Zion is taking a battering from the initial onslaught of Sentinels, as the military takes on the squiddies with mech suits and infantry soldiers. This is another sequence which still stands up over a decade later. Commander Mifune might have the best death in all of the films, going down swinging, shooting, screaming and swearing at the Sentinels as they swarm all over him and lacerate him to death. And then comes the cliffhanger.

It does, frankly, get off to a slow start. Mobil, limbo, get it? Waking up in the real world, Smith-Bane starts cracking up and goes on a murder-spree. A happy ending, then — or not quite, since the effort of it all kills Neo. The Oracle, now reverted back to her non-Smith form, watches the sunrise and is approached by The Architect, who questions whether the newly-brokered peace will last, but confirms that humans who want out of the Matrix will be given their freedom.

One example of a trilogy that manages to reveal just enough, while still retaining an aura of the unknown is another Keanu Reeves property, John Wick.

Although nowhere near as lofty in concept, John Wick has a rich mythology with plenty of unseen dark corners. The second and third films in the series haven't lifted the lid completely, but nor have they held back, instead adding layers of new information and new questions with each installment. By contrast, the Matrix sequels rely on sporadic info-dumps that fail to either provide definitive answers or maintain an illusion of mystery.

Everyone has that friend who goes away travelling for a year and comes back "enlightened," preaching the fruits of their newfound knowledge to all who'll listen. Speaking to said friend is fun for a while, but the more they talk, the sooner everyone else realizes "enlightened" is really just a byword for "pretentious. In the first film, The Matrix uses philosophical subtext to provide deeper levels of meaning to its outward science fiction themes.

Arguably, this is what first attracted viewers to The Matrix , with the initial release offering well-woven philosophical elements that underpinned the fighting and intense action. Arguably the most damning mistake of the sequels, this careful balance is lost from The Matrix Reloaded onwards, and instead of well-integrated spirituality, the Wachowskis begin driving their point home with all the subtlety of a grenade launcher.

The Jesus-like qualities Neo assumes are nauseating, the once thought-provoking dialogue morphs into meaningless, deliberately obtuse guff, and the story relies on transparent bursts of exposition, rather than the more natural world-building seen in the first film. As discussed above, there's a thin line between revealing too much and too little; the Matrix sequels attempt the former, but actually just muddy the waters, and by the time Neo finally meets with the Architect to discuss the true nature of the Matrix, the smart philosophy of yore has been replaced by vague attempts to sound meaningful without actually providing any meaning.

A single questionable scene is rarely enough to condemn an entire feature-length film, but when the movie itself is already on shaky ground, moments of ridiculousness certainly aren't helpful. The Zion rave scene in The Matrix Reloaded is a prime example of this, pausing the main story for a gratuitous sequence where the occupants of the real world spend the night clubbing while Neo and Trinity are off having sex.