Now, in the second of the trilogy, the liberated Neo–who may be the One proclaimed by prophecy–must lead the human revolt against the Machines, with his lover, Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss), and his mentor, Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne), at his side. A quarter of a million Sentinels are closing in on Zion, the underground city that harbors the humans. Before Zion is wiped out, Neo must penetrate the Mainframe of the Matrix and confront its maker. I can tell you that he does, though I won’t reveal what revelations he discovers, but I can’t tell you whether Zion is saved, because that won’t be revealed until “The Matrix Revolutions” comes out in November.
“Reloaded” is more of a straight-ahead action movie than the original, and it’s filled with spectacular mayhem. Our neo-Neo has acquired a repertoire of superpowers–he can fly like a bird and stop speeding bullets in their tracks. But so has his archenemy, Agent Smith (Hugo Weaving), now a free agent set on revenge and able to multiply himself at will, which allows the brothers to stage a showstopping set piece in which Neo singlehandedly takes on a hundred Agent Smiths, tossing heaps of them like salad into the air as even more pop up to fight.
The Wachowskis infuse this nightmare with philosophical riddles, multicultural soul, a sneaky wit and their obsessive craftsmanship. What they can’t deliver, however, is the shock of the new, that thrill of discovery we all got when “The Matrix” revealed its metaphysical hand. And Neo’s promotion to superhero is a mixed blessing. His new powers make him more like the umpteen other comic-book heroes zooming across the Hollywood skies. And if he can freeze bullets just by raising his hand, why can’t he stop the agents the same way? Why does he even bother to fight all those Smiths (who can’t be destroyed anyway) when he could just fly away?
The other disappointment is Zion itself, the setting of some sluggish scenes and clunky acting. The Wachowskis’ imaginations are not fired by domestic disputes and stentorian council meetings, and their notion of a wild Zion bacchanal is Cecil B. DeMille with disco. But inside the Matrix the boys get cooking, conjuring up such striking seriocomic villains as the effete French aristocrat (Lambert Wilson) and his seductive wife (Monica Bellucci), a sultry siren who’s one part Homer and one part Playboy Channel. And they pull out all the stops in a 15-minute freeway battle that will be copied for years.
Be forewarned: “The Matrix Reload-ed” is a cliffhanger with no real ending. When the lights come up, think of it as the start of a six-month intermission. For better and worse, “Reloaded” leaves you hungry for more.
