Will the Matrix remake be more than a lazy cash in?
There is an old dictum in Hollywood, especially relevant in our cheapened times, that franchises never end, but only remain dormant until resurrected by a keen, or opportunistic, studio. And so it has been reported that The Matrix is returning to our screens, complete with Keanu Reeves and Carrie-Anne Moss. (The fact that both their characters died in the last instalment is presumably neither here nor there.)
Lana Wachowski is writing, producing and directing, although her sister Lilly is sitting this one out. The response to the news so far has been positive; the bunting has been hung out, the fatted calf sacrificed and the thousands of critical quills sharpened. The hundreds of millions of eagerly quivering paws waiting to offer their ten dollars will be rewarded in due course. And yet, amidst the mass excitement, the sober question has to be: “will it be any good?”
Certainly, the omens are good. Reeves, who has overcome the “sad Keanu” meme, has had the most remarkable renaissance in the John Wick trilogy. Even if harsh critics might comment that its glorious beginning has degenerated into an increasingly repetitive mélange of fighting and bloodshed, there is little doubt that its star’s charisma has made it one of the more memorable and enjoyable series of current cinema, and that its daring adherence to stylishly gory action gives it a certain je ne sais quoi that its rivals lack. Thus, a return to his finest hour, and, hopefully, yet another iconic statement of “guns, lots of guns” seems the most exciting of prospects.
It is only human to have doubts, though. The first, and by far the best, Matrix film was released two decades ago. For my, and plenty of other people’s, money, it should have won Best Film at the Oscars over American Beauty: it seemed to augur what 21st century cinema was going to be, bullet time and all. It made the year’s most anticipated film, The Phantom Menace, seem leaden and dated. And yet, spectacular action scenes and amusing witticisms aside, its flaws seem apparent today. The central storyline was more or less lifted from the less feted but more innovative Dark City, released the previous year; the acting was earnest rather than stirring, the glories of Hugo Weaving’s sublime performance as the antagonist Mr Smith aside; and its ideology felt, once one felt smart for appreciating its literary and philosophical allusions, somewhat basic. And the less said about the sequels, the better.
So, one could be forgiven for suspecting that this will be closer to Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull than Mission Impossible: Fallout, especially because, assuming it will be released at some point in 2021, Reeves will be pushing 57; certainly not old, in an era where the Cruises and Pitts take their tops off to reveal muscled physiques at the drop of a hat, but perhaps less convincing as a wide-eyed innocent called Neo. Perhaps he shall have to be renamed Palaios, but it’s certainly a good deal less catchy.
However, there is one cause for celebration, buried within the press release. Lana Wachowski will be writing the script with two eminent colleagues: the Bosnian-American novelist Aleksandar Hemon and the British writer David Mitchell. Hemon has a deserved reputation for writing incisive and interesting novels, especially his 2008 book The Lazarus Project, and his contribution to the film will no doubt be an exciting one. But it’s Mitchell’s involvement that should be the greatest cause for celebration amongst cineastes and literature aficionados alike. He has collaborated with the Wachowskis since the 2012 adaptation of Cloud Atlas, most notably in their sci-fi TV drama Sense8, in which he both appeared (as himself) and co-wrote the finale, Amor Vincit Omnia, along with Lana Wachowski and Hemon. Yet this is by far the biggest undertaking that he has taken on outside of his novels, and possibly the most exciting too.
Mitchell is a much-beloved writer, and Cloud Atlas has deservedly acquired the reputation of a modern classic. As film producer and critic Catherine Bray points out, “David Mitchell has an extraordinary grasp of how to balance the fantastical and the realistic in his science-fiction, some of which you hardly realise was science fiction until after you’ve finished reading it – it feels more like he has forensically imagined the future. Of course, that is what science-fiction at its best has always done.” She is extremely optimistic about what his involvement might spell for the resurrected franchise. “For me, The Matrix is at its best when it takes a very plausible character type and gives them a dilemma that feels somehow relatable (would you sell out your terrible real life for a perfectly convincing artificial life?), so what I would hope is that David Mitchell can bring some of that sensibility to The Matrix 4.”
We shall, of course, see what happens. Sense8 was largely criticised for being hard to follow and verging on the impenetrable, and the Matrix series attracted opprobrium the first time round for gnomic dialogue and murky plotting. The new film could do with being clear, concise and witty. There is also the central difficulty of how a sequel will resurrect the Neo and Trinity characters; if it’s done badly, there will be accusations of laziness and opportunism – much like the rest of the film. But if the film bucks the tendency for years-after-the-fact sequels to feel like lazy cash-ins, then we could be in for something quite remarkable. In which case it will feel as if taking the red pill, once again, will lead to one of the year’s most intellectually and viscerally exciting experiences.