Here’s what we know: The Hollywood Reporter cracked a tale that someone at Warner Bros. is reflecting a reboot/ remake of The Matrix . There’s interest in Michael B. Jordan starring, there’s no parole on whether the Wachowskis would have any involvement, and Keanu Reeves said he’d have an interest in returning if they were involved. Zak Penn, the writer behind a small boatload of comic book dimensions, is a possibility writing the script.
That entire wee-wee little paragraph is everything “the worlds” knows about a Matrix reboot right now. This is how the world greeted 😛 TAGEND
“Shameless.” “Ruined.” “NOOOOOOOOOO! ” As you have likely come to expect, the internet reacted like your great-great-grandmother in the face of a woman demo her calf — with utter bafflement and revulsion.
The first Matrix was an extremely good movie. It was a hardcore, kickass activity extravaganza, and it had deep scholastic and philosophical themes as well — something few action movies can ever draw away. The sequels were two gigantic scoops of turd in your morning coffee. Do you remember The Architect and his nonsensical explanation? Could you even stand the Merovingian with that smug-ass look on his face? What about the absurd Powder Twin vampire rave Calvin Klein dreadlock twats? Did you like those? No you didn’t. The sequels are to the original what masturbating with a sandpaper gauntlet and lemon juice lube is to sex.
There are plenty of reasons to remake The Matrix based exclusively on the potential of the first movie. It was super good. The sequels were super colon-twisters. So it wouldn’t hurt to go back to that universe and maybe try not sucking. Also, The Matrix has not aged well. The gists are great and the floor is enormou, but there are a couple of glitches in the ol’ presentation that could use some window dressing. First of all, that red-faced capsule issue. The Red Pill has been co-opted by the men’s privileges move as a the representatives from ultimately insuring the gynocracy of cruel feminism oppressing dudes who never skip leg era and simply want to squeeze tit without the hassle of accepting the personality fastened, dammit! Or some shit, I don’t caution. Detail is, it has a whole lot of baggage these days. So a brand-new Matrix would need to give us a cool brand-new metaphor that distances itself from that. I advocate using kittens and puppies. Choice the kitten and return to your virtual macrocosm. Prefer the puppy and live.
Wait, scratch that. It’s too easy for those working dipshits to rotate that into a pussy metaphor .
Another sore pre-millennium thumb is the style of The Matrix . Those trench coats, human. Those haircuts and that music and everything all have to go. If The Matrix was never obligated back in the day and precisely appeared now, you’d shoulder your buddy so hard and pronounce, “Look at this emo loaf of shit.” Yes, you’d be judging a journal by its include, but we do that. And the clothe of this notebook looks like a dubstep wank fantasy at a costume store in Las Vegas during a swinger’s convention.
But maybe they’re already changing the form and moving it a big fat steampunk jamboree with animated mice who teach children a invaluable assignment about sharing. Or perhaps everyone in the Matrix is going to wear stovepipe hats and grass hems. Who the inferno knows? No one, because there’s nothing but a meagre paragraph of data concerning something someone might do in the future. It contains about as much detail as your shirk roommate’s theme for the purposes of an app that will totally pay off the hire someday.
So rest easy tonight, knowing your childhood isn’t ruined , nor will it be by a two-hour movie you don’t actually have to see. It likely won’t be improved either, since your childhood already happened. Unless the new Matrix can experience wander and move you piss your breathes at your 13 th birthday, you’re maybe safe. Probably.