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A Level Fine Art
T h e Matrix:
A guide to freeing the mind
Paige Griffiths
Religion and film: unlikely counterparts but a force for change?
One of the most successful sci-fi Hollywood blockbusters ever released, The Matrix (1999), captured the minds of viewers across the globe with its captivating plot line and innovative cinematography. Exploring a whole new avenue of cinema – the Wachowskis utilised “sci-fi as a way to explore issues of identity and evolution”, fusing elements of a myriad of religious beliefs into a patchwork quilt of enriching concepts which enhance the film-viewing experience, shedding light on lesser known religious sects that had previously been lost to the passing of time.
Whilst The Matrix may initially seem to be a product of escalating scientific speculation, the series is innately philosophical, posing questions regarding the nature of reality and the world itself. Keanu Reeves’ Neo is exposed to be a Christ-like deliverer of salvation within the world of The Matrix. His position as such is blatantly alluded to within the first five minutes of the film, with him being hailed as a “saviour” and a “personal Jesus Christ” by a black-market disc buyer. Despite this, it is apparent that Neo does not represent the traditional Christian messiah; rather, he encompasses the Christ figure associated with an obscure heretic christian sect – Gnosticism. Primarily concerned with the attainment of knowledge, the gnostics believed Jesus to be a being capable of imbuing the masses with an understanding of their divine origin. It was maintained that the body had trapped the ‘divine spark’ in the material realm, and that until knowledge of the illusion of reality was attained, the soul would not be able to return. Neo chooses to take “the red pill” and see “how deep the rabbit hole goes” rather than remain in a “blue pill” illusion. Alternatively, orthodox Christ was a sinless man who brought people salvation from sin. This seems to be at odds with the theological backbone of The Matrix, as Neo liberates others from their illusions and the ignorance of their current existence, rather than dying for their sins. His goal for all of humanity is to reveal the truth at the risk of losing all people, rather than to preserve the illusory web of The Matrix. Those awoken from the simulation are the enlightened few – the gnostics. Centrally, the heresy at the heart of the franchise mimics the teachings of Plato – a worthless physical world and a worth-filled spiritual realm.
It could be argued that drawing any sort of comparison to Gnosticism is an unnecessary extrapolation of traditional Christian views – successors to Greco-Roman mythology. The Matrix alludes to such myths through the presence of Morpheus (Laurence Fishburne) and The Oracle (Gloria Foster). Morpheus, the God of dreams, frees Neo from the dream of reality by encouraging him to “let it all go… fear, doubt and disbelief”, and The Oracle draws similarities to the Oracle of Delphi which divines the future, and was created by The Matrix itself to interpret key aspects of the human psyche but, instead, aids the resistance. The Wachowskis’ assortment of colourful characters similarly represent key biblical figures, for example, Cypher embodies Judas and takes on the role of the betrayer who continually questions Morpheus’s logic ominously stating that “ignorance is bliss”. Epitomising the temptations of Satan, he holds the same role as the serpent in the garden of Eden, calling us to escape the harshness of reality. He betrays both Neo and Morpheus for the reward of being re-inserted into The Matrix, just as Judas betrays Jesus in return for gold. Trinity is possibly the most obvious reference to Christianity, encompassing the holy trinity, as she commands Neo to rise up from his apparent death in the first film. Whilst Christ’s bride is the church, Neo’s is Trinity. On the other hand, Agent Smith (Hugo Weaving) posits the role of Lucifer – a fallen angel driven by an insatiable desire to overthrow his own creator. A creation of The Matrix, Smith poses philosophical questions during his interrogations, asserting humanity to be “a cancer of this planet”. Despite this, he himself is bound by the confines of The Matrix, just as Lucifer was bound by his loyalty to God. Smith describes how The Matrix was initially faultless, but that true perfection was not conducive to the human form. Hence, he draws a direct comparison between The Matrix, and humanity’s fall from the garden of Eden.
Alternatively, Buddhist teaching could be another compelling inspiration, as The Matrix parallels samsara – the concept of rebirth and the cycle of life. Some Buddhists try to escape this cycle through the acceptance of karma and the importance of choice. Likewise, The Matrix supports one of the ‘Four Noble Truths’: life is suffering. Practicing discipline, meditation acts as a method of freeing the mind, and Morpheus trains with Neo to do just that. The purpose of this is not to teach a new skill – as skills can be downloaded for use within The Matrix – but to liberate Neo from the bondage of rules; “there is a difference between knowing the path and walking the path”. When in The Oracle’s waiting room, Neo is told the ‘Parable of the Spoon’ which contradicts Christian belief and refers to a Buddhist paradox that encourages entrance into the ‘Buddha-mind’. In the distance, a flag can be seen moving in the wind. Whilst one monk asserts that the flag is moving, another declares that it is the wind that is moving. What they both fail to consider is that “it’s neither the flag nor the wind that moves, but your mind”, just as Neo has to realise that “there is no spoon”, only the illusion of The Matrix. However, whilst certain aspects of eastern religions are referenced, other aspects seem to be either completely ignored or contradicted. ‘True Buddhists’ have no enemies and would condemn Neo’s ominous “guns, lots of guns” ultimatum , yet Morpheus tells Neo that not only are the agents their enemies, but so is anyone who has not been freed from the simulation, engendering distrust.
Not only has the film been inspired by religious teachings, but it has also inspired its own small religious following. Granted, Matrixism was initially founded as an anonymous parody, but it now claims to have hundreds of followers. To some, the faith may seem outlandish, as one of its four major rules is the use of psychedelic drugs as a sacrament – a nod to the red pill as an expansion of the mind. Yet, the religion honours the teachings of the the Baha’i faith, which teaches the inherent value of all world religions. The existence of Matrixism highlights the film’s influence within both pop culture, and wider spheres.
It is clear then that The Matrix is an eclectic amalgamation of multiple different faiths and religious teachings, and that, despite the lack of a cohesive allegory, the film and its sequels have thrived on theological debate, helping to usher society into a more self-aware future, one that looks beyond trivial appearances, a future aware that “The Matrix is everywhere”.
‘Keanu Reeves’ Neo is exposed to be a Christlike deliverer of salvation within the world of The Matrix.’ “ The Matrix is everywhere ”
“You take the blue pill… the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill… you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes” MORPHEUS
if i was enough
You made me feel surreal, healed.
poison seeped through my ears; every time you spoke. i believed you.
you made the dark become light; the stars shine bright and flowers bloom better than they did before. your tongue was elegantly twisted.
i thought i was enough, i thought my heart was whole, saturated with enough love to feed your starvation.
Seeing numbers on a plate ate me away; but i felt enough. you love my bones. Olivia Stone Poppy Oliver Lilian de Bruin RIGHT: Yu-In Tang; BELOW: Bea Gale
The woman slipped silently through the decaying proscenium. Her dress was as grey and lifeless as the crumbling stone around her. And the theatre lay dark and silent. Dead. Like so many things.
It had once been full of light and music. When the woman strained, she could almost hear the applause, hear the laughter. She remembered the vibrant ballerina, whirling about. Leaping towards the stars.
But that girl was gone, along with the world that she inhabited. Though her graceful posture remained, the woman had all but forgotten how to dance. She swayed slightly to an imaginary waltz, struggling to remember her old choreography. She leapt over a pieces of rubble, and holes rotting in the stage. It was a clumsy performance, but she bowed to the phantom audience all the same.
Moments like these were the only ones where she could feel young and vibrant once more. She had stopped dancing after the disaster. There were too many bad memories. She still cared. Why else would she come back, every year, without fail? But some passions had died with him. She could never feel the music, soaring within her. And she never danced for another soul.
But, sometimes, as her taut muscles and poor memory dragged her through her most impressive roles, she could feel him. With absolute certainty, she knew that he was there. Perhaps he was even dancing with her? The woman played Giselle once. Every evening, she would dress herself in ghostly white, and dance with her prince. Back then, she was the dead one, and they always laughed at the idea of someone dancing with a spirit. But, now, she understood. The roles had been reversed.
Her hour of daydreams ended, and the woman made her way back outside. The world was bright and bustling. She could smell the smoke from a thousand chimneys, hard at work. Carriages hobbled across the street, and she was in the land of the living once more. The tiny ballerina that lurked within her died again. And yet, despite the pain she felt in her heart, she would always come back. She would die a thousand times, just so that she could be reborn, for a moment, or an hour.
Just to dance with him again.