mattb-66872

You know a sequel is in trouble when it spends its opening ten minutes openly telling you it shouldn't exist. "The Matrix Resurrections" is what happens when corporate inevitability meets artistic resignation, and the result feels exactly as forced as you'd expect.

Here's the dirt: Warner Bros. Literally told Lana Wachowski they were making a Matrix sequel "with or without" her, and the film doesn't even try to hide this fact. There's an actual scene where Neo's boss (representing WB) says "Our beloved parent company, Warner Bros., has decided they will make a sequel to the trilogy with or without us." It's corporate hostage-taking disguised as filmmaking, and Wachowski serves up exactly the kind of middle finger you'd expect from someone being creatively held at ransom.

The plot is forgettable nonsense that you'll struggle to recall the next day. Something about machines farming humans again, Neo being a video game designer, and Trinity being... important somehow? The film throws concepts at the wall hoping something sticks, but it's all so convoluted and self-referential that it collapses under its own meta-commentary.

The action sequences feel tired in every sense of the word. Watching Keanu Reeves, now in his late fifties, try to recapture that wire-fu magic is painful. The film seems aware of this limitation and creates elaborate plot reasons why Neo can't fight properly anymore, but it just highlights how unnecessary this whole exercise feels. We're not watching John Wick here - we're watching an older actor being asked to perform miracles he's physically past doing.

What's most depressing is how checked-out everyone seems. Reports suggest the actors hadn't even done proper rehearsals before filming, and it shows. Reeves looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, Carrie-Anne Moss delivers her lines with the enthusiasm of someone reading a grocery list, and the new cast members seem confused about what movie they're actually in.

The film's one honest moment comes in its meta-commentary about Hollywood's nostalgia machine, but even that feels hollow when you realize it's part of the very problem it's critiquing. Lana Wachowski made this "on her own terms" simply because "it was destined to happen" whether she liked it or not.

The technical craft is competent but uninspired. Gone are the groundbreaking innovations of the original, replaced by digital effects that feel obligatory rather than revolutionary. The color palette lacks the distinctive visual language that made the first film iconic, and the cinematography feels flat and uninterested.

"Resurrections" feels less like a creative choice and more like an expensive severance package - a final payday for everyone involved before permanently closing the door on the franchise. If you're going to watch it, do so with the understanding that you're witnessing what happens when art becomes purely transactional.

Skip it and preserve your memories of the original. Some things are better left in the past.