The Matrix Revulsion: No, That Is Not A Typo

I will say one thing for the Wachowski brothers: their goal of making a deep Christian film that makes people take a new look at faith and belief has been realized; because of this movie, I now can say with confidence that God does not exist.

Actually, that's a lie. Matrix Revolutions has actually convinced me that God does indeed exist, and that He wants me to be unhappy.

This movie was a betrayal; I loved the first two installments of the Matrix. When people knocked Reloaded, I argued with them. I defended the pacing. I defended the orgy. I defended the convoluted melodrama of the Architect. So help me, I even defended The Kid (while secretly hoping for his speedy demise in Revolutions, of course, but still).

And what do Larry and Andy Wachowski do? They count their money and piss all over me.

Revolutions is an unending parade of crap from start to finish. To pick apart the individual flaws, fuckups, and moments that made me want to die would be an injustice to the sheer godawfulness that is this motion picture as a whole.

As a small example: I have wanted to laugh during dramatic death scenes before; I have wanted to snort during dramatic death scenes before. Never before have I wanted to stand and yell "Fuck off!" during a dramatic death scene, but it would seem there is a first time for everything. That's how bad it was.

True story: when the lights went up and the credits rolled, I yelled "Dude, fuck that!"

Half the theater made approving noises.

Do not see this movie.

Do not see this movie.

Do. Not. See. This. Movie.