Everything that has a beginning...
...must have sequels. And usually those sequels are attacked from all sides. And though the attacks are usually justified, in some cases, the attacks are knee-jerk reactions as a result of unfulfilled astronomical expectations.
You know what I'm talking about. The critics are, by and large, lambasting Matrix: Revolutions, as if they had personally invested a month's paycheck in it.
But like all wise people, you have come to me for direction. So, if you'll indulge me as I play Oracle, I will tell you absolutely nothing about the movie and still compel you to see it.
You: Hello, Dave.
Me: Good afternoon. You want to know about Matrix: Revolutions.
You: Yes I do. How did you-- nevermind. So is it as bad as the critics say?
Me: What do you know about the critics?
You: Um... that I usually disagree with them.
You: That they despise franchises, and always complain that it's all about the money. But I don't believe that.
Me: Of course you don't. Because you believe in something else.
You: I do? What is it?
Me: You know.
You: No I don't.
Me: Well, if you don't know now, then you must not be ready to know. And if you're not ready to know, I'm not ready to tell. And if I'm not ready to tell, then I must not be ready to know fully.
You: I beg your pardon?
Me: Because the essence of knowing fully is telling fully to reinforce the knowledge. So to tell fully is the culmination of knowing in full. But the lack of readiness for fully hearing is the true sign of not being ready for full understanding.
You: Um...sure. So is Zion saved? Do they survive?
Me: What do you think?
You: I don't know, that's why I asked you.
Me: Are you sure that's why you asked? Or did you ask because you already knew the truth?
You: I'm totally confused now.
Me: No you're not.
You: Believe me. I am.
Me: You simply refuse to know what you know. If you accepted the knowledge of what you know, you would not ask questions that you can provide your own answers to. Yet if I asked you the same question, you could give me the answer.
You: I'm lost again.
Me: Do you think Zion survives?
You: Because otherwise the movie would suck.
Me: And wouldn't it be easier for the movie to suck? Why do you think the movie would strive to be better?
Me: Perhaps. Or perhaps, the true "must" is that it must suck. That "sucking" is its purpose.
You: But that makes no sense.
Me: But yet it makes no nonsense. So therefore it must be.
You: I hate you.
Me: Or do you really love me, and the love is confused, so that it feels like hate?
You: I'm leaving.
Me: Or are you really staying? That by leaving, you are instead staying in spirit, or that your leaving leaves a meaning that stays? ... Hey, wait. Come back... I'm not done prophesying yet...
Okay, so that sequence seemed a lot funnier in my head than it's coming out in dialogue.