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Roughly half an hour into The Matrix (1999), Neo—Keanu Reeves as the film’s messianic protagonist—reaches out to touch the once-shattered mirror beside him, which has just repaired itself before his eyes. Instead of merely leaving his fingerprints on the glass, he reaches inside the mirror, watches as it turns fluid and quicksilver. The liquid envelops him, changing him into a warped, writhing reflection of his surroundings. With a modulated scream that sounds a lot like the dial-up modems of the late ’90s, Neo is reborn into a new world; he awakens to find himself, for the very first time, in the realm of authentic reality.
The existence that greets him on the other side, dingy and Giger-esque, would not be anyone’s first choice. The Wachowskis’ Machine City, and the vast dark fields of human power cells sprawling endlessly around it, is a nightmare image for the ages: a reminder that the truth can be a bitter pill indeed.
|What I Write||
Video game and tech journalism, feature writing, nonfiction.
I’ll write at least one feature-length article per week.
Even half the cost of a student’s tuition would be great!