October 24, 2003

On Monday, I write about the women of The Matrix Revolutions. Welcome to Boys Day Out.

The two key men of The Matrix saga are Neo and Morpheus. There are others, but with Cypher’s death and disappearance from the sequels, it really comes down to these two.

Laurence Fishburne pretty much hit the nail right on the head. The trilogy traces Neo’s evolution from man to god and Morpheus’ devolution from god to man.

One of the genius elements of the trilogy is the challenging evolution of Neo. At the end of the first movie, the audience was thrilled by Thomas Anderson’s evolution into the superheroic Neo. But it was, as the Wachowskis have always said, just the birth. Reloaded pissed some people off by first restraining Neo, then by starting him down a road of inevitability that didn’t make them comfortable.

I had a bit of an epiphany when watching House of Sand & Fog again on Thursday. The film has lingered in my head like few others this year. Seeing it again has moved it into even higher esteem for me. But the epiphany was that the whole movie, while split between the Jennifer Connelly character and the Ben Kingsley character, is really about her processing the idea of death… her father passed away eight months before the story starts. She goes right through the Kubler-Ross list… anger, denial, bargaining, depression and, finally, acceptance. Just what it takes for her to get there is quite different than any film I have ever seen.

But back to The Matrix…

As we get into Reloaded, we assume emotionally that Neo has arrived. What we learn is that he has a long, long way to go spiritually before he can finally achieve his fullest self. Revolutions is quite a different experience, in that we are privy to the end of Neo’s journey. Neo, just like the audience, needs to be reminded repeatedly that the journey is not over until it is over. It cannot be controlled and it should not be assumed. Like being The One, it is something one must simply know.

Meanwhile, Morpheus continues down his road to humanity. Morpheus is what he needs to be – much as The Oracle tells people what they need to hear – and, as we continue through this journey, the growth of Neo seems to mean that the need for Morpheus as a leader becomes more and more reduced. His relationship with Niobe, in the end, is almost beyond the comprehension of the Morpheus we met in the first film. Of course, Fishburne laughs that our view of Morpheus is our responsibility and that Morpheus has not changed so much as our perspective on him has changed.

Interestingly, both Fishburne and Reeves seem more comfortable with the idea of moving on with their post-Matrix lives than Jada Pinkett-Smith or Carrie-Anne Moss. It’s not that the ladies are stuck or obsessed. But as men tend to be typically male, you get the feeling that the boys had some of the greatest “movie sex” of their lives and are ready to roll over and wake up refreshed. Both acknowledge that true perspective on this experience is a ways off.

I must admit that I’m not a fan of the line “Now we’re even.” But one of the remarkable things about this trilogy is that the Wachowskis do balance sex, race, human and machine. You can break the story out into many different dyads and find significance in all of them.

More to come…

NO STATIC AT ALL: I saw the first forty minutes of Radio last week. But I had to leave after about 40 minutes to go to another screening. My sister and niece, who both wanted to see the film, stuck around. When I left, I was amused at Radio’s simulated football game in the rain. It was just so goofy.

But when I got out of the other screening, I got a call from my sister. I HAD to see the rest of the movie. She and Alli cried their eyes out and it was just so beautiful!

So I went back. I suffered gently through the first 40 minutes or so again and waited for the tears to come. Perhaps I was all cried out from In America on Monday and House of Sand & Fog on Thursday morning, but I did not get sniffly as expected through Radio. But they got me in the end. Damn it!!!

And as I walked out into the cool Los Angeles evening, I thought to myself, “That wasn’t bad.” Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t good. But Ed Harris was classic Ed Harris. Cuba Gooding, Jr.’s work was actually pretty sensational. It looks easier than it is. He gives a smart, modulated, complex performance as sophisticated as, say, Jerry Lewis’ turn in The Nutty Professor. That’s no faint praise.

It did piss me off that Debra Winger was so terribly underused. On top of that, I felt she was walking through the performance.

But if you want a tearjerker and you can’t wait a few weeks, you may feel like a jerk, but Radio will do the job. And you’ll be in good company with the rest of us jerks.

THE BOOK ON L.I.T.: It wasn’t as good as a screener, but on my doorstep on Thursday was a wonderful book from Focus Features on Lost In Translation. It’s a book of photos, combined with small clippings from Sofia Coppola’s script.

One of the best things about the book is that the script elements seem to be the real script elements and not elements re-jiggered based on what ended up in the film. It gives you a good feel for some of the things that were improvised and those that were word-for-word from the script.

But the best part is the pictures, the front cover featuring the 1-sheet image of Bill Murray with which we are all familiar. The back cover, appropriately, features the back… side of Scarlet Johansson, as featured in the opening frames of the movie. One wonders whether the second 1-sheet would feature this image instead of Scarlet's face with that dinosaur imagery in the background were it viable with the MPAA ratings board, CARA.

Screeners are great, but these are the mementos of great movies that I most enjoy having and keeping over the years, long after the films have arrived on HBO. (Take a peek here.)

READER OF THE DAY: A&E writes: “I have to admit that I hadn't read Wednesday's column when I went to a screening of this tiny masterpiece. I'd read what you had previously said about the film in other columns and knew you were a fan. I've read your stuff long enough to think that based on your taste, I would probably enjoy it. Nothing however prepared me for the rapturous experienced. I was completely blown away. I cried unlike I've cried in a movie in a long time. It was really comforting to see something provoke that honest a reaction from me. I don't think a fiction film has even made me feel something that sincere since You Can Count on Me.

I've tried for almost 24 hours to verbalize the catharsis I had while watching this movie. Unfortunately, the social construct of language lacks the power to express what emotions can. The thing I keep saying is that the movie's brilliance is in its humanism. Obviously, the story is incredibly personal, but even if you were completely unaware that the script was written by Sheridan and his two daughters, the concern and genuine love of the material would unmistakable.

Samantha Morton does continue to astound and Paddy Considine breaks through in a big way. (The fact that Ewan McGregor and Kate Winslet decided against making this movie truly makes me doubt them in a way I didn't think possible.) However, the real find is Honsou. I have never been particularly impressed with his acting ability, believing he has continued to get jobs because of his build and voice, but not ability. However, I will forever retract that statement and herald him as possibly one of the most overly-talented, but woefully under-utilized African-American actors--second only to Alfre Woodard. He holds the screen even when he is not onscreen, but his approach to the role is not showy or flashy. It simply the grief, anger, longing, and gentleness he conveys through the wounded spirit of Mateo.

I couldn't wait to get in to work today so I could start telling people how much they needed to see this movie. Then I wanted to quit my job and become a one-person marketing squad for Fox Searchlight and go door to door, convincing everyone that they need--not should, but need--to see this film and remember why America was and is seen as the land of hope for millions. It's also an incredible testament to the importance of smaller films, because the film's beauty lies in its simplicity.

I know I am having an overly emotional reaction to this film, but the fact that I saw it approximately twenty-four hours ago and I still get choked up about means something incredibly important doesn't it? Like you, I can't wait to see this again.

Jim Sheridan's Newest Groupie”

This came from JOHNNIE UTAH: “Sick to freakin' death about the piracy issue and it's only going to become a bigger issue. Every movie I see, there's the commercial with that blue-collar guy who met his wife on The Big Chill, who mentions piracy and how he wants to work. And every time I yell "Then tell the studios to stop sending your work to Canada!"

It's piracy when you record a song off the radio. It's piracy when you use a VHS tape to record a TV show. It's piracy to rip a tag off a mattress. It's piracy when you recap a movie you saw to your friends. It's piracy when you tell someone the score to a game without written consent of the National Football League. Everything you do that a giant monolith corporation may not like is piracy. Piracy shmiracy. The word is losing all meaning to me. Jack "The Knife" Valenti wants pirates raped in prison as a deterrent. (I can't remember how he phrased it but "prison" and "sleeping next to sweaty men" were in the same sentence.)

I think they should let the pirates know they're coming. It's more humane to help someone stop before they commit a crime rather than entrap them. But whoever said Hollywood was humane?”

And NOT QUITE A LATTE writes: “I definitely noticed the cap coding during an opening-weekend showing of Kill Bill in Madison, WI – I also recently saw SWAT at the cheap seats in Madison and could have sworn I saw the Cap Coding during that one as well – which fits in with the Spy Kids 3-D time frame, I suppose. Just thought I’d share my experience. And for the record, I did find it annoying, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it…although, just like the cigarette burns, I think there will be times when it’ll “take me out” of the movie.”

E ME: If you don’t know why these comments are here, you might have missed yesterday’s column. If you do, please add to them. And will you turn on to Radio?