Just as their films have developed a certain self-consciousness about their own grandiosity—a foreknowledge (which comes to a head in Revolutions) that they are giving us, that they must give us, the best, most inimitable spectacle Joel Silver's money can buy—so the Wachowskis seem to have been convinced of the Godlike status that legions of movie geeks have appointed to them. They've isolated themselves on a Kubrickian media iceberg, refusing interviews and becoming fodder for a series of scandalmongering tabloid headlines. They've even stripped their press-kit biography down to a scant three sentences, the last of which reads "Little else is known about them"—a declaration I roundly doubt was included back when the Wachowskis were just the directors of the terrifically wicked lesbian-noir Bound (1996), the screenwriters of the misbegotten Sylvester Stallone vehicle Assassins (1995), or even the creators of the original Matrix, which, difficult as it may be to believe now, was far from a sure bet when it first arrived. Which is also a way of saying that somewhere along the winding road to The Matrix Revolutions, the making of these films has come to seem, for their makers, more work than play. Writing in these pages several months back, John Powers suggested that, had God himself been responsible for the "epoch-making world" of The Matrix, he might have opted to rest rather than embarking on these two sequels. Watching The Matrix Revolutions, you sense that the Wachowskis should have sooner abided by God's example or, at least, by their own film's ad line and oft-iterated dictum: "Everything that has a beginning has an end."
The Matrix Revolutions was written and directed by the Wachowski Brothers; produced by Joel Silver; and stars Keanu Reeves, Carrie-Anne Moss and Hugo Weaving. Now playing countywide.