On the Matrix (1999) and the power of believing
I recently (re)watched the Matrix (1999) at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, and was blown away by the cinematography, quotable dialogue, and fighting scenes that have outlasted time. Beyond its impressive execution, it’s cemented itself as a cult classic by making us think, spawning philosophical essays and subreddits dedicated to analyzing the film; I’m jumping on the bandwagon.
The Matrix follows a young Keanu Reeves with an unbelievable jawline (Neo) on his character arc from dejected programmer to enlightened hero. One day, after getting berated by his boss for being a few minutes late to his job, he meets a mysterious man who claims to have been looking for him all his life. The man, Morpheus, puts Neo at a fork in the road in the form of two pills. One will allow him to discover the truth, no matter how ugly…which Neo swallows without hesitation.
He wakes up on a ship of sorts, cruising with a group of castaways who’ve made the same choice. Through the window, he sees the real world: a post-apocalyptic landscape, where all seven billion humans are tethered to a generator to power the lives of the presiding AI race. Every single one is comatose, stuck in a simulation of ‘life’ (the Matrix) that Neo had also been in as of a few days ago. He soon finds out why he was singled out to escape the Matrix: Morpheus believes Neo is the chosen one who can save humanity.
The Matrix is a movie about the power of believing. Once upon a time, in a not so distant future, humans believed that the world we live in is real. The chair we’re sitting on, the water we’re sipping, the conversations we’re having - all of it real, because we didn’t have reason to think otherwise. The movie applies the brain in a vat theory at societal scale as a thought experiment of how happily we go on living if we never question our beliefs. The movie also posits a more enticing version of believing one’s way into reality, with Neo suddenly able to dodge bullets and come back from the dead because he believed (that he could, and that nothing is real in the Matrix anyway). But what elevates the Matrix from a simple “if you believe, you will achieve” story are elements of belief that beckon to religion rather than self-efficacy. I think I watched this movie at the right time, when I’ve been debating whether I should revisit the question of spirituality and the utility of religion in my life. The movie provides some additional considerations to mull on.
Every religion I know of is collective. So is the faith that Neo is the chosen one, propagated by Morpheus and Trinity (the love interest) to the rest of the ship’s crew. Neo himself is initially convinced that he is not the messiah, but others’ conviction eventually shifts his perspective. It’s easier to buy into a belief system if there are others who are sacrificing their time, money, and energy to sustain it. Especially if one holds them in high regard, just as Neo admires Morpheus, this collectivism is powerful.
The Matrix also mirrors religion in orienting around a higher purpose that exists outside of the self: for the castaways, it’s to save humans from being fodder for AI. Neo is handed this purpose upon gaining consciousness, and the rest of the movie explores how he comes to terms with it. Not everyone is willing to self-sacrifice, however: Cypher the “villain” betrays everyone on the ship so that he can slip back into the comforts of the Matrix. Although he is the antagonist, the viewer can empathize with his motivation. This religion is not for him.
Cypher: “I'm tired, Trinity. I'm tired of this world. I'm tired of fighting, tired of this ship, being cold and eating the same goddamn goop every day…[Morpheus] lied to us, Trinity. He tricked us!”
Trinity: “That's not true, Cypher, he set us free.”
Cypher: “Free. You call this free? All I do is what he tells me to do. If I have to choose between that and the Matrix. I choose the Matrix!”
For a brief period of my life, I was Catholic. Its ritualistic nature was fun and mysterious for me when it was novel, but became burdensome when I couldn’t figure out what it was all for. The cynical part of me thought it was to subjugate the congregation to a code of conduct that would preserve the power of the church (and I still think some of this is true). The more optimistic part realized I didn’t have solid reasons to be a believer, but I was okay with leaving space for it. Asking people around me for input didn’t sway me either, because I don’t think it’s possible to reason one’s way into believing.
After many years of thinking organized religion was not for me, I find myself contemplating the need for spirituality again. The decisions we make in our twenties supposedly carry such weight that there’s even a book called the defining decade. Yet I find myself wondering what it’s all for and what I’m optimizing towards. More than half of our waking hours are spent in the religion of capitalism and the political ideology of the US, yet we don’t try too hard to break from their mold. Spirituality, and perhaps organized religion, might be one of the few belief systems we get to (hopefully) freely explore with fully formed brains. We should aspire to be like Cypher, minus his selfish disposition, who doesn’t just accept the faith that’s handed to him but rather chooses his path based on what resonates with him. We should also aspire to be like Neo whose conviction shapes reality to suit his purpose and experiences the divine in this alignment. In looking for a belief system, I think it’s worth contemplating the questions that the Matrix poses to the viewer - do you admire the people who are bought into this belief system, and do you agree with its higher purpose? Short of that, nobody has an answer, and it seems to be a matter of a leap of faith.