Resurrections is a direct sequel to 2003’s The Matrix Revolutions, continuing the story of Neo, Trinity, and a few other well-known characters from the Matrix trilogy. And worst of all, the kung fu isn’t very good. It seeks to dissect the adulation and mythos that have grown up around The Matrix over 22 years but without the masterful craftwork that inspired that adulation in the first place. It’s a gratingly uncool and reactive cut-up of an effortlessly cool and timeless work, albeit seemingly deliberately so. Directed by Lana Wachowski instead of the typical Wachowski-sister duo, Resurrections starts with an intriguing bit of metatextual loopiness before devolving into a tepid sequel. The Matrix Resurrections is, to its credit, a fairly weird film - but one that’s often more concerned with being self-aware than being good or enjoyable. I really have nobody but myself to blame. The Matrix Resurrections warned me its existence was a bad idea, and I kept watching anyway.
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