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The Power of Contained Settings In The Matrix Sequels
And why Sci-fi and Fantasy films benefit from an enclosed network
Spoilers abound
It’s always fun to see how such a chaotic beehive as the internet responds to new movies. Awe. Disgust. Repulsion. Admiration. All among the greatest hits. Yet, few releases capture them all in one. And even fewer incite such vitriol— if they’re not Star Wars that is. Indeed, it requires a special place in pop culture for a sequel to be so eyebrow-raisingly curious and gut-wrenchingly cringeworthy that they conduct the whole orchestra of criticism.
Insert Dial Tone, flighty green code, and a resurrected Matrix sequel nobody wanted and what do you get? A film so intriguing it manages to be both corporate cash-grab and meta-commentary on soulless sequels in a saturated society at the same time. And all with a self-deprecating style so sharp it points the dart right at the bullseye of blame: Hollywood. Or does it?
Lana Wachowski really has taken the meta-textual shit of Reloaded and Revolutions and said fuck it, let’s turn it up and call this what it is: another trip down nostalgia lane we’ve come to recognise so well over the last decade of reboots, rehashes, and regurgitations.
In this way, I have to applaud Wachowski for their boldness. Matrix Resurrections recognises it’s not original and instead of retreading the same formula, like many other big-budget nostalgia checklists, it leans into its repeat concepts in an honest attempt to say something new.
It doesn’t work all that well. But I appreciate it purposefully swerving into the curve of expectation anyway. However, as the internet has already delved into the myriad issues with the film I would like to do something different and angle the lens a little wider. Quite literally. I would like to talk about a term I’ll call scope; and how important it is if you want to create sci-fi and fantasy stories (particularly movies) that aren’t swallowed by their own ideas.
Firstly, what is scope?
