I like a frontal lobotomy as much as the next guy, but...

Rating: 1/10 (18 July 2003)

Walking out of the theater after viewing this putrescent stain on the mayfly life of filmmaking brilliance displayed by Wachowski Brothers (soon to be "siblings"), I was certain that I'd seen one of the ten worst movies ever made. There was no doubt in my mind that it would require a blow to the head with a wrecking ball for even the most insipid simian to claim this film had any value.
I suppose I should feel good that my arrogance and superior nature are not without reason.
The entire film, written around three tediously long action scenes, had all the originality and intrigue of those "Ad-lib" books I played with in third grade (you know, the ones where you fill in nouns, verbs and adjectives to make your own version of the story; frought with hilarity and expletives). The famous "pole scene" about which all the sheep were crying "baa-ram-yoo" with such fervor afterwards was so prolonged and repetitious that I could have safely used the restroom and come back to find that I'd missed nothing but an opportuinity to lose minutes I will never again be able to use for more worthwhile things.
While I expected, going into a sequel to an eye-candy action flick (and, before you cry "Philistine!" and start collecting the torches and pitchforks, I did love the first movie), bad writing, I thought perhaps the directing, or at the very least the editing, would make up for it. However, with absolutely nothing either innovative or even vaguely artistic in a single scene, I was left wondering if perhaps I'd wandered into a dress rehearsal for the film.
The effects were obscenely expensive without being at any time impressive. I saw some of the most expensive cheese to which I've ever been exposed on the screen during that movie. It looked like Ed Wood got his hands on $100 million dollars.
There is no point in analyzing the acting in this film. If you did not shudder at the idea that these people make more than most do in a lifetime for being unrealistically talentless, there is no getting through.
My favorite oversized wool sock that they yanked over the collective audience head was the end. Just to make sure that those who walked away liking the movie felt that they'd understood something "intu-lek-shul" they forced the word "ergo" from the lips of an erudite looking old white man more than once. There are people out there who think they know something because they liked a movie with one SAT word buried in it.
One final thought: When the hell did MTV's "The Grind" make its sweaty way onto the silver screen? What the hell was that house party all about?