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brattygirl20032002: u r so frekin ugly
ariel: thanks!
brattygirl20032002: fuck u ugly ass girl lookin bitch
ariel: ok
(visited yahoo profile)
ariel: ahh
brattygirl20032002: what?
ariel: i understand now
brattygirl20032002: u faggot ass bitch shut up ass hole i tont understand faggot lol
ariel: no it’s okay, i’d be upset too if i looked like youbrattygirl20032002: what i dont speat fag i cant read what u said –>

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Oh great. The Mazda Miata is listed among the Top Ten Gayest Vehicles — twice. (That would explain all the, uhhm, queer looks I keep getting.) On the other hand, I seem to be in fine company: Jeeps, Beemers and Saabs also make an appearance. See if your car is listed!

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Don’t just sit there. Run, don’t walk, to the record store and get yourself a copy of King’s X newly-released latest, Black Like Sunday. You’ll be glad you did.

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Highlights: None of what you might expect. Well, okay, yeah: that very first shot of the slo-mo explosion in the background while “Trinity” strikes some sexy, artful half-split pose; that was swanky. But, besides that. Well, alright, a couple of the near-misses as Trinity speeds her Ducati motorbike along Hwy 101 (L.A., right?) going against traffic, that was hair-raising. But that’s it! All the explosions and matter-under-such-duress-that-it-goes-elastic was just so much ho-hum. The brain-teasin’ plot twist at the end, foreshadowed to heck throughout the feelm, was my favorite thing, more or less redeeming the whole shinola. Agent Smith as a kind of “rogue,” wildcard element was also interesting.
Lowlights: All the uberfight sequences were completely wasted on me. I could smell the CGI from where I was sitting. These animators all should be led in stocks and forced to sit through a semester of Physics or two. The “indecent proposal” reprise was so unnecessary. Zion as this massive construct built in such a relatively short period: bzzzzt. And if you’re going to build all that shizzit, how about building yourself a nice t-shirt-and-jeans factory or two: no need to go around looking like extras from Paul Simon’s “Rhythm of the Saints” tour.

All in all, though, I am happy to admit that The Matrix: Reloaded acquitted itself quite well. I went in with plenty of apprehension borne of having assimilated plenty boo-hooing over it from the more erudite reviewers whose opinion I value, along with plenty ballyhooing from the usual cadre of meatheads who love anything with explosions. In the end, everyone was right and, since I get to have the last word in this review, everyone was wrong, as well.

I agree with those who bemoan that the resultant style of this film has too much sheen, seems much too polished, much more upscale compared to the original. One of the things that appealed to me about the original film was that it felt gritty and claustrophobic. The perhaps lower quality of the visuals, along with plenty of stylistic choices of what to show, what not to show, combined with some great soundtrack choices to overstate the dystopian nature of “what’s going on” in the world of the Matrix. The tunnelvision that served so well to heighten the tension and sense of desperate need in our protagonists and, by extension, all of humanity, is gone. In its stead, we have lush orchestration, explosions that reverberate throughout the theater for what seems forever, huge, panoramic long shots both of the “world” simulated by the Matrix and that ultimate, last bastion of humankind, the underground city of Zion. Now we’re shown a relatively linear conflict, “us” versus “them,” and you can almost visualize the vector of attack, from the machines above to humanity below. This isn’t the way data operates in a virtual world: data is “everywhere” and “nowhere” at once: try expressing that on film. Now that would get my attention. Admittedly a sequel to such a visually original film as the original has its work cut out for it just trying to meet the super-heightened expectations of those whose adoration made a success out of the original, and I haven’t forgotten that I too am susceptible to this effect. But still. Too much posh; the brothers were given a blank check and they ran with it, and who can blame them, really.

What about the story? There is a story, right? Well, yes… sort of.

The first half or so of Reloaded is so interpenetrated with one hyper-kinetic action sequence after another that it’s hard to remember why any of these things are happening in the first place. What passes for a storyline is, in my opinion, hopelessly obscured. But then during the second half things slow down just enough for dialogue and plotline to make a cameo appearance, and this is where I have to begin to give credit where credit is due. If you’ll remember, the first film dealt with the rude awakening that the world as we see it is only a simulation, created by machines (machines = computers = software, in this context) to distract humanity long enough to have their life-force drained out of them, to serve as a power source to said machines. Every now and then one of these humans wakes from this dream state, and more often than not machines become aware of this and destroy it. Once in a while, though, one slips away. Our human protagonists are a group of such. Their kind has gone undergroudn and together formed Zion, there to wage a desperate last stand against their oppressors. Reloaded begins with news that the battle is being brought to Zion, and political wrangling among the humans ensues regarding how best to fight back. One Commander Lock seeks to arm a conventional defense, whereas Morpheus and his followers (for followers they are —it seems clear that he is able to command the allegiance of many not only through rank but through personal charisma and a deep conviction that his mystical, oracle-bestowed vision is the true version of events) seek to operate through their prophesied Messiah, Neo. As depicted in Reloaded Neo’s super-duper-endowed personna would seem to vindicate Morpheus’s belief to an extent. I say “would seem” because Keanu Reeves’s acting makes nothing clear about his character. (The man has two faces: his “excellent, dude” one, and this troubled, “oh god I wish I hadn’t had that extra shot of Jager coz I may be about to hurl” look. He uses that last one to death this time around. But I digress.) Up to about maybe twenty minutes before the film ends we’re led into believing that Morpheus is da man, he’s right and everyone else is wrong, even though there’s foreshadowing casting doubt on this dating as far back as the first film. The climax and cliffhanger of Reloaded, which I’ll try not to spoil for you, is a good twist, playing precisely on this notion. Sure, the story so far has so many holes that you could use it as a collander, and that’s unlikely to change even after the third film has come and gone, but the cliffhanger serves the one huge purpose of propelling the story forward, actually making it bigger than what it had been.

Reloaded brings up questions of predestination vs. free-will, of cause-and-effect, and of how the same word spoken by two different people can be made to mean different things. To my mind, the moral of the story is, “consider the source.” Morpheus’s faith hangs on a prophecy. He thus operates in a kind of slot-car view of the world where events inevitably follow one another in a precise and predictable way: humanity’s salvation hinges on being in the right place at the right time. (Neo wouldn’t seem to follow that logic since he is the omnipotent who is capable of acting unpredictably, but nevermind that for now.) Commander Lock, representing a less ritualized vision, does what seems best in his eyes. Unfortunately, he reacts to known forces in known ways: in this is his strength and also his weakness, for machines can also perceive and adapt to known methods. So it’s ironic that the tunnel-visioned zealot in this case seems to have a better chance at beating a relentless enemy than a clear-headed layman. Except I still don’t see how Morpheus is supposed to hocus-pocus defeat for the enemy out of thin air. Yes, Reloaded’s last half hour is his attempt at getting this done, but even in the movie our heroes are basically found to be connecting the dots as given them by the Oracle: it’s a lot of “you’ll know what to do when you get there.” If the fate of humanity hung on my shoulders I think I’d go do my homework a little thoroughly.

A little thought helps: we know that all free humans live in Zion. The Oracle, though, lives in Lefrak City, New York (judging from some of the long shots), in the Matrix. She’s not reachable in the real world. In other words, she’s not human (and how could she be, and know-it-all, like oracles are supposed to?): therefore she must be a machine. A program. An Other. If it’s “us vs. them,” how trustworthy can she be? It turns out Reloaded goes some way toward explaining that not all programs are malevolent megalomaniacs: some are tasked with amoral processes like creating fluffy clouds or making birds fly, for example. But cloud-makers don’t seem to have a face in the Matrix (yet), and one would think, would have no reason to take sides in a battle of humans vs. machines. And if they did, wouldn’t the side they choose be their own? I lost count of all the questions, big and little, that the films bring up. Big philosophical reality-versus-dream conundrums, sure, but also the little ones: is the Merovingian one of the previous Chosen Ones? (Oops, little spoiler there.) Is the Oracle friend or foe? Why is the “rogue” Agent Smith still hell-bent on human annihilation, specifically his vendetta against Neo? Isn’t he software, and aren’t programs amoral?

On reviewing the original film recently I realize that a lot of the cheese of Reloaded is just as present in the original (and conveniently overlooked by us superfans), albeit in subdued form. But then I remember, these are comic books put to film: they’re meant to be hyperbolic, by almost any measure. So okay, I’m letting it slide for now. The fact that such a blatantly caricaturistic film is able to evoke even this much thinking out of me kicks it up a notch above the Die Hards of the world. Perhaps I’m exercising faith that the third film will resolve the more egregious of all these questions in a satisfactory way. In what might seem to evoke Reloaded’s inevitability-of-fate subtheme, said third film is already completed and unlikely to change form very much between now and its scheduled airing in November, regardless of my level of faith. And yet, as far as my hopes and expectations for the conclusion of the story arch are concerned, the film may as well not exist. Just like the paradox of Schrodinger’s Cat. In black vinyl.

Sending Out an S.O.S.

Dunno about you, but my Yahoo! Messenger account more or less imploded about a week ago, and I?’ve been unable to chat since. Y’?might try me on AOLIM or MSN Messenger, instead, since I don’t know if the Y! problem will ever go away.