Rivets and Bolts: The Matrix (Part Two)

Threshold crossed, commence act two. Here we'll see our protagonist, Neo, face numerous challenges, both external and internal. Although that really means they're all external - this is a movie, after all.

Act Two

11. Nebuchadnezzar's crew - Neo's muscles are rebuilt, he opens his eyes for the first time, and meets the freedom fighters

Neo is slowly adjusting to this new world and this sequence takes its time. The Wachowski's do not overload us with information, instead providing answers one question at a time. They address logical gaps in the mythology, the first being Neo's physical body: having never really used any part of it, his muscles have wasted away and he's never even used his eyes. He's being rebuilt on a literal, physical level that complements the metaphorical rebirth.

There are a number of influences in The Matrix. It's a collection of numerous philosophies and literature, all gathered together to make an original piece that honors its parents. So far, those parents have mostly been classic books, the cyberpunk genre, and philosophical concepts. In this act, the Asian influence becomes really pronounced.

You might think the Asian aesthetic lies with the action sequences, particularly since renowned martial arts choreographer Yuen Woo-ping made the fights in The Matrix come alive, but you'd be wrong. Notice the giant needles Neo is punctured with to rebuild his muscles? If that's not an acupuncture allusion, I'll eat one of those needles!

"You've never used them before."

12. The real world - Neo learns the true nature of the Matrix

What time is it? It's Adventure Exposition Time!

Information is always difficult to disclose in a movie. You risk having a character ramble endlessly, spouting words, words, words that bore even the most patient person. The trick to exposition is to mask it: bake it into a delicious cake that, unknown to the audience, is filled with the vegetables a growing kid needs. It's sleight of hand, an ability both magicians and writers must have. And bakers, apparently.

As I said before, Morpheus is the character who divulges information about the world of The Matrix. The exposition here works because even though the dialogue itself is pretty straightforward, it's presented with a bow. There's a flair to what Morpheus says that's part of the mask.

In addition to Fishburne's voice, the visual images accompanying his lesson are intriguing and satiate the eyes. Remember: sight and sound isn't just an NYU film class (please don't kill me), but the two senses at work when watching a film. When they work together you get wonderful cinema.

Finally, since Neo is just as in the dark as we are, it makes logical sense that he'd have to be straight up told what's going on. The first act was spent casting riddles, like Bilbo and Gollum do on their days off, and it hooked him and us. Now that we've all decided to cast our lot with Morpheus (or the Wachowski's), he (they) must follow through with answers - which we finally have.

"Welcome to the desert of the real."

13. The search is over - Neo learns he can't go back and what Morpheus is really after

A short scene but an important because Morpheus reveals what he's been searching for and, in turn, reveals the stakes of the film. Morpheus believes he's found the savior, the messiah, who will lead the humans from their prisons and venture forth into the light. It's a moment of consolation mixed with exposition that tells us the fate of all humanity will be in Neo's hands.

No pressure!

"As long as the Matrix exists, the human race will never be free."

14. Training begins - Neo learns of Zion and begins his training

We come, once more, to a scene that at first glance appears unimportant. But, as before, this is far from the truth. Despite the brevity of this scene, it's a vital stepping stone in Neo's journey because it provides Neo with hope: the existence of Zion.

The symbolism and metaphors at the core of this scene augment the story's bank of references, themes, and meanings. In addition, it provides Neo with a far-off goal. At this moment, the city is mythological because we've not seen it. But, should Neo succeed, his reward will be contact with the last bastion of mankind. It's not the explicit goal the Wachowski's have given Neo and the city is a very minor plot point,  but it exists nevertheless. Neo now knows he has a home to go to, a hearth with which to warm himself. It's this hope that makes the task of rescuing the humans from the Matrix far from an impossible goal.

Enough talk! Let's get down to how Neo will save the human race: with super cool martial arts moves.

"If the war were over tomorrow, Zion's where the party would be."

15. Morpheus/Neo matchup - Neo spars with Morpheus, learning that rules can be bent and broken

This scene goes on for over six minutes. It does not go on this long in the script. The Wachowski's aren't writing six pages worth of punches and kicks in a dojo, but overindulgence this is not.

In a good movie, fight scenes are not just meant to wow audiences with gravity-defying stunts. Instead, the fights are internal conflicts made external. They grasp an aspect or two of the overarching themes that are seen in the protagonist and show them to us visually. In this scene, Morpheus teaches Neo that the rules of the Matrix can be bent and some even broken. He means, literally, that Neo can throw a punch much faster than Bruce Lee and kick through a solid wall but he also means that rules can be broken. That's a central theme in The Matrix, as evidenced by a band of rebels rebelling against the establishment.

Every strike is ripe with meaning. Mouse is amazed at Neo's speed, which hints he might, indeed, be the One. Of course, we're also shown Neo's newbieness. In the first part of the match, he shows off, taunting Morpheus. It comes to a crashing conclusion when he runs up a beam, somersaults into the air, and lands behind Morpheus only to be sent flying into another beam. Only after failing and gaining wisdom can the student the best the teacher.

It's a training sequence not unlike Luke's by way of Obi-Wan.

"You think that's air you're breathing now?"

16. First jump - Neo tries to free his mind but falls instead

Doubt creeps in. Neo fails his first jump, leaving a bewildered Mouse to ask what that means. The others tell him it means nothing, since everyone falls their first time. But shouldn't the One defy the status quo?

If the previous scene gave us hope for Neo's success, this one undermines it by giving us that first bit of doubt. And how poetic that said doubt segues into a moment with Cypher, the Judas to Neo's Jesus. In his short moment with Trinity, we're presented with a butt-load of information in a nice confrontation. Cypher clearly lusts after Trinity, as proven by his opening remark. That line serves another purpose, as it shows us that Trinity is behaving differently with Neo. Perhaps she's taken a liking to him?

This is a good scene: it moves the protagonist along on his journey while spinning the wheels of the subplots.

"Free your mind."

17. The gatekeepers - Neo learns about the Agents

I was always horrified that the rebels could so easily kill security guards and other bluepills that remain part of the Matrix. I mean, it's one thing to kill a sentient program but it's quite another to kill a fellow human being - one enslaved by machines, no less! The training program involving the woman in the red dress explains to the audience, and Neo, why collateral damage is okay: they simply pose a threat to the greater good.

Since the bluepills are part of the system that is the Matrix, the malevolent Agents can morph into them and wreck havoc on the redpills. Poor Neo learns that everyone who has stood their ground and fought them has died and that someone, i.e., him, must defeat them.

Pressure rising and rising...

Though we've seen Agents before, they are now contextualized. We understand who they are, what they are, and why they are. Though the explanation is verbal, that most damnable mechanism of exposition, it's backed up by visuals that accentuate it. The black-dressed throng (many of whom are actually twins and triplets, to provide that sameness feel) bumps into Neo, becoming a literal obstacle. It's all about masking the hand of the writer.

"What are you trying to tell me? That I can dodge bullets?"

18. Running silent and deep - Sentinels are detected and Neo sees them up close

Well, good thing the Agents are just programs inside the Matrix. They can't hurt us outside of it! Phew, time to relax and have a nice cup of post-apocalyptic tea...oh shit!

The rebels just can't catch a break! Not only is there danger inside the simulation, but outside of it they are hunted down by the sentinels, squid-like machines whose sole purpose is to seek and destroy. The only way to destroy them is to set off an EMP (foreshadowing!) but that has its drawbacks. In this half of act two, conflicts like this need to be constantly thrown at the protagonist so that he or she has obstacles to overcome, otherwise we'll have not just a short film but an empty one, as the resolution would otherwise occur too easily.

Life really sucks for humans in the year 2199.

"There used to be cities that spanned hundreds of miles. Now these sewers are all that's left."

19. Dealing for bliss - Neo talks to Cypher, who then makes a deal with Agent Smith

I've always found it interesting that Cypher has no problem being completely honest with Neo. Cypher hates the real world and explicitly states it when he says he's thinking, ever since he was unplugged, "why, oh why, didn't [he] take the blue pill?" And then a few minutes later, he's dining with Agent Smith and brokering a deal to give up Morpheus in return for getting plugged back into the system.

But his reasoning is valid! Here he is, in the real world, pursued by killing machines, attracted to a woman who doesn't care for him, and living on meager rations in the sewers. Who would genuinely choose that life when they could live a better one?

The question, then, is which is better: the horrible but real world, or the wonderful but fake world?

Here's an example of dramatic irony and conflict: a future betrayal is guaranteed that will likely throw everything Morpheus has planned for Neo under a bus.

(How amusing is it when Cypher exclaims "Jesus!" after Neo says Morpheus believes he's the savior? Mildly amusing!)

"Ignorance is bliss."

20. Off to see the oracle - Neo is offered a date with the woman in red but is set up on one with the Oracle

To give further credence to Cypher's previous point, we're shown the rather disgusting-looking goop that passes for food aboard the Nebuchadnezzar - immediately after being shown a delicious steak! Perhaps ignorance really is bliss...

This scene serves as a transition to the meeting with the Oracle, but the Wachowski's pad it with some more poignant philosophical discussion that stems directly from Cypher and Agent Smith's chat. Did the machines really get the taste of Tastee Wheat correct? The world may never know - especially because it's not a real product.

In a way, this scene serves as a counterpoint to the previous one. Yes, the Matrix makes us believe that that piece of steak is delicious but it's still not real, so who knows how legitimate the taste is? Perhaps it doesn't matter, as Dozer notes, as long as the food provides the nutrients the body needs.

"Maybe they couldn't figure out what to make chicken taste like, so it's why chicken tastes like everything."

21. There is no spoon - Neo is taken to the Oracle and learns a truth about the Matrix

This is the first time Neo enters the Matrix after having been unplugged. Naturally, it feels weird; the world outside seems slower and strange. In fact, it's so odd for him that he feels like an outsider and this is perfectly captured, visually, by the fact that he's driving through in a car, staring out the windows.

We, too, see this world differently. We're now conscious of its deceptive nature.

Adding to the Wachowski's cultural references, we have the room of potentials. This group of telepaths, lifting blocks through the air and bending spoons, reminds me of the espers from Akira. They're also watching Night of the Lepus on the TV, though having never seen what I assume is the magnum opus of cinema, I can't comment on it. Maybe it's just a rabbit motif. This is how stories work, though: references upon references because art doesn't live in a vacuum, it speaks to works that have come before.

Script notes: in the 1996 draft, this section was extremely convoluted. It's a hell of a recurring theme: the draft is much more fluffy than the final piece, which is much stronger. Originally, the Oracle resides in a huge temple complex guarded by numerous guardians. It's much more grandiose than the simple imagery presented here: the Oracle as a grandmotherly figure, baking cookies. Simple, cost-effective, and much more powerful.

"There is no spoon."

22. Choices...and a cookie - Neo is not the One, but gets a cookie

Ah, the legendary oracle - we meet at last. The set-up of the scene is very simple, which is why it works so well: it's just an older woman baking cookies and dishing (ha!) out advice. No fancy temples, no computer-generated effects, just two people, in a room, talking.

And we begin the talk with a joke: the broken vase. Here, the Wachowski's are throwing another philosophical bone into the discussion but it's so minor and delivered so nonchalantly that it becomes a joke. It's the Wachowski's poking fun at the whole philosophy of the Matrix by adding another, almost absurd, thought-provoking idea.

But it's the foreshadowing that's important. I mean, if you have an Oracle, you may as well get your money's worth, right? Her minor prophecy is completely truthful: at no point does she make a statement that does not come about - and that's fascinating.

In a way, the Wachowski's explicitly lay out the rest of movie and even tells us how it ends. We're told a woman has a crush on Neo and I would hope that the audience isn't as dense as the savior of mankind is and knows who the woman is, that Morpheus will sacrifice himself for Neo, and that Neo will have to decide whether he or his teacher will die.

Most importantly, and frightening, the Oracle tells Neo that he is not the One, that he has the gift but is waiting for something. "Your next life maybe, who knows." You do, you damn Oracle! And boy, is she right.

Then again, the reason Morpheus gives himself up and Neo eventually dies rescuing him is because the Wachowski's wrote it that way. So to discuss free will in a story is kind of ironic...

"You'll remember that you don't believe in any of this fate crap. You're in control of your own life. Remember?"

23. Glitch in the matrix - The Agents make a change and draw first blood

Black cats foretell ruinous news.

The Wachowskis escalate the action now as we reach the midpoint of the story. The siblings are really good at dropping minor ideas as plot points. Using déjà vu to explain how the Matrix can be altered is great. I bet a bunch of people who watched this movie now freak out when they experience it.

We know something heavy is going down for two key reasons (besides the many men with guns): Morpheus takes off his trench coat, and Neo is given a gun. That, readers, means it's business time - the killing kind. Small details speak volumes.

Poor Mouse. If only that cat hadn't shown up...

"A déjà vu is usually a glitch in the Matrix. It happens when they change something."

24. One left behind - Morpheus sacrifices himself to get Neo out

Like Obi-Wan before him, Morpheus sacrifices himself for his student (and to a man in a black suit, no less). It's another notch in the monomyth, like everything the Oracle told Neo would come to pass. Prophecy numero uno complete.

Interesting tidbit: when Morpheus asks Smith who he is, the agent responds, "A Smith. Agent Smith." I may be reading a bit too much into it, but consider that in The Matrix Reloaded, Smith drives a car with a license plate reading IS 5416, alluding to Isaiah 54:16 in the Bible. That passage reads, "Behold, I have created the Smith that bloweth the coals in the fire, and that bringeth forth an instrument for his work; and I have created the waster to destroy."


Hugo Weaving may have just delivered the line a bit oddly, but I wouldn't be surprised if the Wachowski's had planned it this well.

Directorial remark: I really dig the shot of the rebels climbing down through the walls.

"You must get Neo out! He's all that matters!"

25. Heroes unplugged - Cypher takes over the Nebuchadnezzar and unplugs some rebels

The betrayer finally strikes - with lightning, of all things.

I always wondered why there was a lightning gun aboard the ship. Who the hell are they going to use that against? The Sentinels? Well, that's exactly who, though we find out only in the sequel.

We've reached the midpoint of the story. It's the lowest point in Neo's journey as he has seemingly lost everything: he's been told he's not the savior he was said to be, he's lost his mentor, and his friends have just been murdered. All he needs now is to be killed himself! Oh, wait, give it time...

"Welcome to the real world, huh, baby."

26. Cypher's burnout - Cypher gets a taste of his own medicine

This scene isn't that disconnected from the previous one. In fact, calling it a completely separate chapter (especially when it's so short) serves little purpose. Still, here we have a shift in the story as just a few seconds ago everyone was dying and the story seemed to be concluding.

Cypher's joke that some sort of miracle must occur to save Neo's life - if he is indeed the One - seems to serve a dual purpose. It's a very good question that tests whether Neo is who he is supposed to be. When a miracle does occur, it's the proof we need to start believing in him.

But this also feels like the writers are writing themselves out of a corner. Tank was shot point blank in the back with a beam that seems as powerful as the one that hit Dozer - and yet the (literally) bigger man is the one who dies? It's always struck me as a weak moment in the script, though it can, and is, easily masked through the miracle card.

"I mean, how can he be the one if he's dead?"

27. Matters of belief - The Agents start to break Morpheus and Neo, refusing to unplug his mentor, chooses to save him instead

How poetic: the lecturer is lectured. A scene with Morpheus where some philosophical exposition doesn't occur would be a weird one. So good thing Agent Smith is there to pick up the slack! This time, however, it's a point of discussion that goes against what Morpheus has taught Neo.

For the past ninety minutes, the audience has rooted for Neo and the other rebels. Free the humans! Down with the machines! Now we come to a junction that seeks to throw our previous beliefs out the window. Agent Smith tells Morpheus that the first Matrix was a perfect world, one in which every human had every desire fulfilled, but it was rejected. We humans, who strive to achieve perfection and re-enter Eden, were gifted our dream and we refused it. Says a lot about us, huh?

Back to our hero. What's key here is Neo's decision to save Morpheus' life. It's the Oracle's prophecy coming true (again; damn, she's good), as Neo points out. He sees his destiny before him and chooses to act, to sacrifice himself. Is it really a choice? I'm reminded of the vase the Oracle told Neo not to worry about...

Kick-ass female note: Trinity pulling rank on Neo is hilarious but also further proves how capable she is, while bringing Neo back down to earth. He's made up his spiritual mind and is gung-ho about rescuing Morpheus, but Trinity reminds him that it's not that simple and he'll need help.

There's one final bit of foreshadowing with regard to Neo's Oneness. He tells Trinity he isn't the mythical hero but she says it's not true and has the sweetest eyes as she says it. "Why?" asks our hero, to which he gets no response - only those eyes. Not too bright, indeed.

Good thing his fighting skills are better, as we'll see a couple of scenes from now...

"I believe I can bring him back."

END ACT TWO


We've come a long way from whence we started. So has Neo. We're aware of the rules, aware of the world and ready to break free from it. That's the purpose of act two: to expand on the world introduced in the first ten to thirty minutes and understand what it means. Neo went from being a questioning desk jockey to an adult with strong beliefs who knows kung fu. That, friends, is growth - and it only happens with good writing.

As we go through act three, we'll see the hero's triumph over evil and a permanent change in the world as it is.

Rivets and Bolts: The Matrix (Part One)

It's been thirteen years since The Matrix was released in theaters, which, while not that long ago, is enough to remind that some of us were nine years old when it came out...

Of course, there's no reason not to celebrate it's thirteen year anniversary, which comes up March 31st.

Having finished up the series (again) in February, I've been highly impressed with the original movie from a script and story point of view. The sequels, which I don't believe are as horrendous as others proclaim, do suffer technical faults that don't necessarily stem from bad writing. The Wachowski's didn't luck out with The Matrix: it's an excellent film because they're great writers. The mythology explored in Reloaded and Revolutions is much more intricate than in the original and so balancing all those characters, themes, and plot points becomes infinitely more difficult. 

To understand those difficulties, first one must understand why The Matrix works.

(N.B. #1 These section names are pulled straight from the chapter titles on the DVD, which I feel do a good job of condensing the scenes.)

(N.B. #2 One cannot be told why The Matrix works, one must see it for themselves. So pop in a DVD and/or VHS and follow along!)

Act One

1. Trinity in a jam - Trinity and Cypher talk about Neo before the line is traced; cops attempt to arrest Trinity as Agent Smith and others arrive

My former screenwriting teacher, Mark Dickerman, spoke of the opening attack in a screenplay. It's the introduction to the world, to the characters, and it bears a lot of weight: if it's not up to par, theater goers will walk out. Suffice to say, the Wachowski's are quite adept at picking an excellent point of attack - one that is, literally, an attack.

What makes the opening scene of The Matrix stand out is not because it's action-packed but because it sets up so much in just three minutes. The opening dialogue, over a black screen peppered with green numbers, is intriguing. Who are these people? Whom are they speaking of? Who traced the call? If this is a movie about computers, then it's apt for it to open with numbers that lead us into the rest of the world.

The fight scene between Trinity and the cops establishes three pieces of information: this is quite the physically strong woman; there's something off about this world; leather is fashionable. The first is important because it's simple yet effective characterization. The second is evident with Trinity's signature flying kick and when she run across the wall. This characterizes the world and clues the audience in that this world isn't quite right. Not to mention, it's the introduction of bullet-time. The final piece, Trinity's clothing, appears inconsequential but it's further world-building. Nearly every character in this film wears badass leather garbs while jacked in, serving as the distinct uniforms of the counter-culture redpills. It's the cyberpunk influence as a visual statement.

Outside the hotel, we're introduced to big, bad Agent Smith. With regard to Trinity, this shows she is someone important because the feds - or those dressed up like the feds - don't just go after any criminal. If the cavalry has been called in, she must pose a serious threat. With regard to Smith, he and his pals' copy-pasted look - suits, glasses, ear pieces, high foreheads, etc. - gives them an uncanny feeling; there's something wrong with these men.

"No, lieutenant, your men are already dead."

2. Impossible pursuit - Trinity talks to Morpheus before fleeing over the rooftops; an Agent pursues her and she narrowly escapes the Matrix before a truck barrels into her phone booth


This sequence ups the adrenaline and further proves that holy shit there's something wrong with this world. The key moment is when Trinity and Agent Brown jump over a wide gap between two buildings, bewildering a bluepill officer. Interestingly enough, after Agent Brown makes the jump, the music reaches a crescendo and then stops. This minor musical arc fits perfectly because the same pause exists in the action as the audience has to consider what they just saw. The following dive by Trinity into a small, yellow window is all kinds of crazy and lets the directors use their patented bullet-time yet again.

And now we come to the phone booth. As Trinity runs toward a ringing payphone (in today's world, finding an exit would be so much more difficult), a passing dumpster truck screeches as it turns around and plays chicken with her. There's mystery here as the first question that springs to mind is: why the hell was Agent Smith in the truck? The next question is, where did Trinity go? As the truck pulls back, all we see is the wreckage of a wall and phone but there's no body in sight. Just what the hell is going on here?

This buildup is a continuation of the opening attack, further drawing the audience in with questions they're going to want answered. Of course, one must eventually answer said questions.

We entered the world through phone numbers and now we exit through a phone as the camera zooms into the mouth piece and finally takes us to our protagonist.

"That's impossible."

3. Follow instructions - Neo receives a message on his computer, makes a business transaction, and accepts a party invitation


Solitude is Neo's life: he lives inside a cramped apartment, dusty technology in every nook and cranny, and his computer searches for files related to a supposed terrorist named Morpheus. And now his computer directly addresses him: "Wake  up, Neo. The Matrix has you."

If the opening two chapters introduced us to the physical world of the Matrix, in this one the Wachowski's introduce the philosophy. Between Neo's apartment number (101), Simulacra and Simulation, and the white rabbit tattoo on Dujour's shoulder, we're shown this will be a smarter movie than your typical action blockbuster.

Sparse dialogue and subtle visual allusions make this scene. Simulacra and Simulation and Alice in Wonderland appear worlds apart, but together they serve as key frameworks to understanding the entirety of The Matrix. It helps that the Wachowski's apparently had all principal cast and crew read the former if they were going to work on this film.

"It just sounds to me like you might need to unplug, man."

4. The question - Neo goes clubbing and meets Trinity, who tells him the truth is out there


Now we come to the inciting incident, and the timing fits: it occurs ten minutes into the movie. But numbers aren't enough to say Q.E.D. You can tell this is a pivotal scene because Trinity finally makes contact with Neo and tells him she knows why he's up all night, who he's searching for. She eggs him on so he can finally start the journey.

This, of course, is the call to power Campbell spoke of.

On a minor note, when Trinity gives her name to Neo, he remarks that he always thought she was a he. Trinity's response ("Most guys do.") is very apropos in a meta kind of way. Consider most blockbuster sci-fi action movies which don't have female protagonists who can kick butt-loads of ass. While The Matrix doesn't have a female protagonist, it does show that women are just as deadly through Trinity. Neo's comment is a self-referential remark on the opening sequence where Trinity drops a group of police officer, reminding viewers this will be a different sort of movie.

If you don't care about the monomyth, then care about the leather: it's the central aesthetic in this scene, which continues to characterize the cyberpunk influence of the movie. I may be harping on this point a bit much, but the fashion force is strong with this series.

"The answer is out there, Neo."

5. "They're coming for you." - Neo's late to work, attempts to evade the Agents with Morpheus' help, but just can't do it

"You have a problem with authority, Mr. Anderson. You believe that you are special, that somehow the rules do not apply to you. Obviously, you are mistaken. This company is one of the top software companies in the world because every single employee understands that they are part of the whole. Thus, if an employee has a problem, the company has a problem. The time has come to make a choice, Mr. Anderson: either you choose to be at your desk on time from this day forth, or you choose to find yourself another job."

Here's a lesson in foreshadowing. This entire little spiel by Neo's boss (Rhineheart) encapsulates the entirety of The Matrix on numerous levels: it describes the plot, the way the Matrix itself works, and presents Neo with an ultimatum not dissimilar to the one Morpheus will present him with soon enough.

When I watched this scene, I was distracted by the window-washers, as was Neo. Why were they there? Is it symbolism, a metaphor? Perhaps, by cleaning the windows and providing a cleaner view to the outside world, they parallel Neo's journey. Now that I think about it, the window-washers are a red herring. They're distracting the audience because they're distracting Neo: it's Rhineheart's speech that's at the center of the scene. Minor details like this speak volumes.

(minor research indicates the washers are supposed to be the Wachowski's in a cameo, though others suggest it's an indication of a glitch in the matrix or digital rain or any number of theories)

This is why the sequence in which Neo scurries through the halls, hoping to escape, is just an action set piece. It does, of course, have thematic importance because at the end Neo shows he's still too afraid to trust Morpheus, to "free his mind." But always look for - and write for - the deeper meaning.

Script notes: in the 1996 draft, when Neo returns to his cubicle, a co-worker jokes to him about getting fired. In the final cut, this man does not exist. This is a perfect example of less is more, of realizing there's no reason to create a nameless character who adds little to the plot or atmosphere. In addition, it's one less casting choice and salary producers have to worry about. Never be afraid to cut.

"I can't do this."

6. Unable to speak - Smith interrogates Neo, offers him a free pass if he helps turn in Morpheus, which Neo refuses


Protagonist, meet antagonist. Poor Smith wishes he'd have put a bullet in Neo at this point.

If the previous scene is the refusal of the call (Neo, after all, chooses to go into the hands of the agents rather than escape through the platform), then this is the repercussion of that choice. And the notion of choice is a repeating motif throughout the movie; Smith's offer is like Rhineheart's.

The bug is another instance of the curtain being pulled back, revealing the true nature of the world. But Neo and the audience aren't ready to be shown the truth, hence the decision to make Neo wake up from a nightmare immediately after. Was the bug real or not? Time will tell.

With the monomyth in mind, I've noticed a parallel with Star Wars. Darth Vader at first pursues R2D2 because the droid contains the plans to the Death Star. Unbeknownst to Vader, he should really pursue Luke, this farm boy who is Special. The Matrix is similar: Smith is after Morpheus, this grand wizard who threatens the very empire he works for, but the one he should really seek is this hacker boy who is Special.

"Tell me, Mr. Anderson, what good is a phone call if you're unable to speak?"

7. Getting the bug out - Neo gets a ride from Trinity and is shockingly debugged


It's not sci-fi unless the tracking device is fucking insane.

This scene is similar to the hallway chase from chapter five. The heart of the scene is seemingly buried under a tense, action-y moment. In this instance, Trinity shocking Neo with an electric bolt to rip the bug out of him is the physical plot movement but what lies beneath (besides the bug) is Neo finally trusting those who seek to help him.

The bug implanted in Neo is another example of WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN THIS WORLD, though much more visual. In fact, the curtain is hanging by a thread as this scene has been ripping it apart. Like the bug. Yay, metaphors.

This is also the beginning of the supernatural aid, which culminates in the next scene.

Script notes: in the draft, this scene is exceptionally complicated. First, Neo meets Apoc on a subway platform where they escape the police, then Trinity takes him to a character named Gizmo (horrible name, unless it ends in -duck) who, with the help of a burly man named Hacksaw, removes the bug inside Neo in a similar but more excruciating manner as in the final cut. Here's a choice bit of dialogue from the end of the scene, after Gizmo "oogles [Trinity's] tight leather pants:"

Gizmo

Goddamn, what I would give for a copy of that software.

Trinity

Gizmo, you don't have the hardware to handle this software.

Remember, ladies and gents, do not be afraid to trim and cut dialogue or characters.

"Because you have been down there, Neo. You know that road. You know exactly where it ends. And I know that's not where you want to be."

8. Morpheus' proposal - Neo meets Morpheus and learns about the Matrix

Neo finally meets his guide, the old man (sorry, Laurence Fishburne) who guides him on his journey of self-fulfillment. Generally, scenes with Morpheus contain important philosophical speech related to the themes of the movie. This introductory scene is proof. Morpheus does, indeed, tell Neo what the Matrix is: a prison for the mind, made to "blind you from the truth." He discusses fate, mentions Alice. At no point does Morpheus lie to Neo. The Matrix is everywhere.

But Morpheus cannot tell Neo exactly what it is.

Part of the reason for this is because if he did, then choice no longer exists. It's a crackpot theory - human enslavement by machines - and any rational person would simply refuse to believe it. We must be slowly coaxed towards the truth and we must be allowed to find the answer, ultimately, by ourselves. This is why Neo has to make the choice: red pill or blue pill.

The truth cannot be forced, it must be sought out.

In most movies, this scene would feel heavy-handed and would be a failure. It's over three minutes of exposition, mostly spoken by one character, in one location with minimal camera angles. For the scene to work, you need excellent dialogue, acting, and directing. The trinity, if you will. Fishburne delivers lines expertly crafted by the Wachowski's in that deep, philosophical voice. And even though he seems to be speaking nonsense, it's mesmerizing. There's sincerity in his voice and it intrigues not just Neo, but us, the audience.

Of note: Morpheus never takes off his sunglasses, constantly shielding himself from Neo.

"Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself."

9. Down the rabbit hole - Neo takes the red pill, a trace program is run, and he dials out


Morpheus' blue pill/red pill offering is a classic scene, one to be remembered for years to come. The dialogue is short, catchy, and informative. Most importantly, it builds anticipation and makes viewers shuffle in their seats, eager for what's to come. "Take the red pill!" they shout.

Like the interrogation scene earlier, this one has someone using the Matrix to put something in or on Neo. This time it's a mercury-like substance spreading over him, a visualization of a trace program Morpheus has initialized.

There's a nice little moment where Morpheus explains the pill Neo took is "designed to disrupt [his] input/output carrier signals", leaving a befuddled Neo to ask what that means. It's odd to believe a hacker like Neo wouldn't understand the jargon, and perhaps he doesn't because Morpheus isn't referring to computers but to Neo himself (oh, the irony). But seeing as how Neo and the audience are one (har har), it's a classic example of technical jargon needing to be explained, which Cypher is happy to do: "It means buckle your seat belt, Dorothy, 'cause Kansas is going bye-bye."

Cypher, you lovable traitor...

If the human-computer connection isn't made clear enough, the scene blacks out as Neo's scream merges with a modem dialing a connection. Go figure, I always enjoyed the sound effect, though I don't miss the SCREEEEETCH of dial-up modems.

"You take the red pill, you stay in in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes."

10. Slimy rebirth - Neo is unplugged from the Matrix and sees the human crop fields before being flushed out and getting picked up by the Nebuchadnezzar

What the fuck?

That might just be everyone's response when they see Neo's real birth, goo and all. Although this is a lot cleaner than the ones we're accustomed to...

This scene marks the end of act one and the crossing of the threshold - quite literally, as Neo leaves the simulation of the Matrix and enters the real world. The only bit of dialogue is at the end, when Morpheus welcomes Neo to...the real world.

The vast CGI and modeling in the scene gives us a glimpse at the true nature of humanity, plugged into pods filled with liquid, each connected to vast towers. A machine violently introduces itself to Neo and declares him unfit for his old home and flushes him away. The image of Neo being lifted out of the water, into the Nebuchadnezzar, is symbolism at its finest: birth by water and Christian imagery.

It also marks the first change in the cinematography, with the green tint giving way to a blue one accentuating the bleakness of this post-apocalyptic world.

"Welcome to the real world."

End Act One


We're a quarter of the way through the movie, but the biggest part comes next: act two. It's the longest and the toughest to write because it's where the actual story occurs. But it's the most fun!

Have Name - Will Travel

The Dune universe is filled with cool and nifty names for people, places and things. Chani, Stilgar, Muad'Dib, Atreides, Irulan, Feyd-Rautha, Liet-Kynes, Arrakis, Caladan, Salusa Secundus, sietch, Giedi Prime, Arrakeen, hunter-seeker, sandworm, mentat, Tleilaxu, crysknife, Fedaykin, Kwisatz Haderach.

That just scratches the surface! We still have ornithopter, Yueh, thumper, Sayyadina... Okay, okay, I'll stop. But with all these cool words, I can't begin to imagine what the protagonist's name is! It must be badass, one befitting an epic science fiction masterpiece. After all, this is a person who will enter the halls of greats like Frankenstein, Darth Vader, even HAL 9000!

It must be great, it must...oh? What? What's his name? Really? That's...that's it?

Paul.

Paul, Paul, Paul. Paul Atreides. Paul-Muad'Dib Atreides.

Paul.

In the eight years I've known Dune, I've always wondered why the hero's name is so normal. It stands apart from all the other words in the book, many of which are Arabic in origin. Why would Herbert give a character alive nearly ten thousand years from now a name from our era? Of all the ones to survive that many millennia, it's Paul? Somehow I don't think it's an allusion to Paul McCartney. There must be a reason, especially since his mother's is Jessica. That one's also common, though it's more interesting than Paul: it was invented by Shakespeare!

Alas, the question is not one I've ever really bothered to answer. But what this has made me consider is the importance of names. Whenever there's a new character for me to work with, considerable time is spent finding a name that fits. Truth be told, I spend more time with that task than I should because I overthink it. One of my friend penned a short script in which the protagonist was a clerk named Clark. Clark the clerk: it was a conscious decision on my friend's part and yet it was so simple.

Then you have writers like Shakespeare who go all-out crazy with their names. Take Iago, for example. One of my professors argued that if you separate the letters in Iago, you get "I ago", a combo of English/Spanish (though there's an "h" missing) which translates to "I do." Why would this be the meaning? Well, Iago is the one who acts the most in the play, the one who does and causes the plot to unfold. Shakespeare probably just made that up but it works surprisingly well. Then again, it's Shakespeare: the guy could write dick jokes that had thematic meaning.

Names say a lot about us. They establish ethnicity, culture, and their meanings can reveal someone's character. Mine just says I'm from a Spanish-speaking country; I am not, after all, a "new house." But they also have power, as Doctor Who tells us. The oldest running joke in the series has us guessing at the name of this wacky and serious centuries old being. Since the Davies era, this joke has become a central theme, telling us that names have power. It's Rumpelstiltskin, except our imp is a lovable bow-tie wearing, dangerous goofball. That's one possible reason the Doctor - and, indeed, most other Time Lords - never reveals his name.

And let's not even mention the tetragrammaton...

In the script I'm currently working on, 90 Miles, I have the biggest cast of characters I've ever worked with. It's hard trying to remember where they all are, who died, or who speaks what language. So you can imagine how frustrating it was to name them all. Normally, my characters' handles always allude to someone else. My protagonist, Ana, takes her name from the protagonist of The Spirit of the Beehive, Victor Erice's allegorical critique of post-war Spain. Both of these young girls have curious minds and live in countries ruled by political turmoil. Plus, it's a helluva good movie, even if my brain couldn't comprehend it at first.

The other characters are carefully named. Ana has a best friend called Jose, as do I, and her grandfather and mine both share a name. The smugglers she encounters allude to real-life 18th-century pirates, as well as Long John Silver. It's nepotism mixed with allusions, one of the easiest literary cocktails to mix.

But there are three central characters whose names were chosen at random while I sat in front my laptop, telling myself, "Shit, what I am going to call them?" Ana's parents, Victor and Gloria, don't quite strike a chord with me; I'm pretty ambivalent toward their names. Honestly, the closest allusion I could come up with for Gloria was Sofia Vergara's character in Modern Family. Victor? Well, I knew a Victor in middle school...

Now it's too late to change them. Every time I say the names aloud, the characters come to life. If I try to rename them, it feels wrong; they're no longer the same people. Their names and identities are intertwined. Whatever meanings they could have are now up to interpretation - I didn't give them any. And if you can think of a good one, do share it. I'll be sure to steal it credit you.

Despite all this thinking, sometimes a name jumps into my head and I totally want to make up a story with it. Celeste and Camille have been on my mind lately. Drusilla recently popped up - though she'd probably be called Dru (Drew?) for short. Funnily enough, this rarely happens with male names. They don't tend to call out to me. Except Alexander (or any variation thereof), but that's because you'd have a hell of a lot to live up to if you're called "defender of man" and don't follow in the footsteps of good ol' Alexander the Great. Er, maybe I'm just projecting.

As for the meaning of Paul, quick research reveals it means "small" or "humble." Jessica, meanwhile, means "foresighted." Ah, now this makes sense. A woman belonging to a sect hoping to create the ultimate prescient man gives birth to a small, humble boy who just so happens to end up ruling the entire known universe.

Now I want a son just to name him Paul...

Walk

I miss walking. That's the one activity I consistently do in New York. It's what I did in Prague. In Miami, though, there is no walking. When travel becomes a necessity, a car fulfills it. Even when I take my dog out, I get little out of it other than an escape from the house. I may as well have a teleportation device because whenever I move from place to place, the trip is meaningless.

Adventure is lacking in this world where "pedestrian" is missing from the lexicon.

Railroad Tracks and Runways

Air's wet with a cool breeze blowing. The sky to the east is cast with a gray blanket of cloud; to the north, a small window into the blue atmosphere pokes its way through. To the east, all that is seen of the setting sun is a golden strip that paints a few clouds a reddish tint. A masterpiece in the making.

A bird just defecated on my left middle finger.

And now a plane is swooping down to land while a train churns its way along its tracks, sounding its horn.

All around can be felt the quiet movement of people.

Kitten

A minute, shrill meow rouses my attention. I pause my music, push my seat back, and look out the back window in my room and find a horrific sight:

A kitten lays on its side, a bloody gash in its chest; eyes closed and mouth slightly opened, it lies perfectly still.

Right below my window there is a gray cat with a black kitten in its mouth. The newborn squirms in the older animal's mouth, clearly in distress.

Unsure of what to do, I bang on the window and scare the cat away. It runs into the backyard. When I reach the back door of the house, I see the cat running across the high, wooden gate with the kitten in its mouth. I bang against the door once more and the cat jumps over the gate to a neighbor's yard.

Time to face death.

Human

He has three hearts. He is hundreds of years old. When he dies, he regenerates into a new body.  He wasn't even born on Earth.

Yet all the qualities that we love about the Doctor are as foreign to us as love and hate.

A few minutes ago I finished the two-part story written by Paul Cornell for Doctor Who: Human Nature and The Family of Blood. Both of the episodes explored what is, to me, the most fascinating aspect of this series: the Doctor's character. While being chased by a family of shape-shifting aliens who wish to consume his Time Lord essence in order to gain immortality, the Doctor arrives in 1913 England where he uses a device to change his entire physiology - every single cell - to that of a human. The Doctor undergoes the transformation because the Family (the previously mentioned aliens) is able to smell him from a long ways off, due to his own alien nature. Cue David Tennant proving how good of an actor he is.