The Matrix, dir. The Wachowskis

I hate The Matrix, okay? There, I said it. Go home and cry about it. It’s a boring, poorly acted, weirdly-coloured cardboard cut-out of a movie. 

Bless Keanu’s cotton socks, but the boy performs like a piece of wet lettuce in this movie. Making Laurence Fishburne wear those ninety-nine cent glasses is tantamount to a hate crime. Why does Agent Smith talk like British Arnold Schwarzenegger with a head injury? 

The dialogue is awful. Why is everything green or yellow? “It’s symbolic!” you cry. “”It’s stupid,” I counter. Just because something is #deep doesn’t mean it’s not #shit. 

The main thing that is wrong with it (of the many, many, many options) is Neo. We’re supposed to believe he’s the hero, T H E  O N E, here to deliver us from Hugo Weaving’s terrible Agent Smith voice (literally who made him do that). But sci-fi fan boys, please, look me dead in the eye and tell me ONE THING that is special about Neo. ONE THING that is compelling, interesting, unique, or even vaguely different. And don’t say his cheekbones – if having perfect facial structure was enough to make you the saviour of humanity, Chris Evans would be Jesus. 

Dear God, it’s just so DULL. Utterly lifeless, like if an AI had a deep thought. The actors are so dead behind the eyes they could be Melania Trump. It feels like nobody involved had any passion. No disrespect to Carrie Ann Moss; where are you hiding, my queen? Come back and rescue us. 

The Matrix is atrocious, okay, go fuck yourself. And don’t even get me started on Mission Impossible. 

0/10: Keanu is a smoke show but the movie is dumpster fire