
Let’s rewind for a second. The first Matrix movie? A masterpiece. Stylish, action-packed, philosophical, revolutionary—literally. It changed cinema. It changed fashion. It even gave conspiracy theorists a whole new vocabulary, because nothing says “deep thinker” like referencing the red pill unironically in a Facebook comment section.
But then came Reloaded. And Revolutions.
The second film was fine. Better than people give it credit for. The freeway chase? Iconic. The Architect’s “Concordantly, vis-à-vis, ergo” speech? Less so. But at least it tried.
The third film? Well... it ended. That’s something.
And then Resurrections happened — 18 years later — and somehow managed to make the third film look like a misunderstood masterpiece. I watched it. I’m still angry. And honestly? I think the movie was angry too. It was weird, and not in the cool, trench-coat-slow-mo way — but in the “I dare you to like this” way.
Here’s my theory: Lana Wachowski didn’t make Resurrections to revive the franchise — she made it to bury it. She was told, “This is your last chance before we hand the IP to someone else,” and she went, “Cool. I’m gonna nuke it from orbit.” She did everything she could to make sure no one would ever want to touch the Matrix again.
Well… it didn’t work.
So you’ll have to excuse me (and most of the internet) if I’m not exactly doing bullet-time backflips over the announcement of The Matrix 5.
BUT.
As much as I’ve been burned, as much as I feel like Neo with his eyes melted after watching the forth movie - I still think there’s hope. There’s a way to save this. One way, and one way only:
Leave Neo out of it.
No Trinity.
No Morpheus (sorry, either version).
No chosen one. No prophecy. No “he’s the anomaly.”
Just... none of it.
Let the saga of Neo rest. It’s done. It’s finished. It had a beginning, a middle, a disappointing end, and then an even more disappointing un-end. Let’s move on.
But don’t abandon the world.
Because if there’s one thing the Matrix got absolutely right—it’s the worldbuilding. The Matrix universe is rich. It’s dense. It’s full of potential. And it’s honestly more relevant now than it was in 1999. Back then, it was a cool sci-fi idea: what if we’re all trapped in a digital simulation?
Today? That’s just called “having a smartphone.”
We are already living in a simulation. We scroll past avatars, we curate realities, we chase algorithms. We're inside the machine. Stories about waking up, about seeing through the illusion, about breaking free—they hit harder now. They matter more now. The Matrix isn’t just a cool backdrop for slow-motion shootouts—it’s a metaphor that we desperately need to revisit, through a new lens.
Think about what The Mandalorian did for Star Wars. It stepped away from Jedi, Skywalkers, and Death Stars and told a simple story in a rich universe. That’s what The Matrix 5 needs to do. Give us a Matrix version of Andor. Or Rogue One. Or Logan. Something smaller, grounded, focused on a new corner of the digital dystopia we know and love.

Want proof this works? Look at The Animatrix. That anthology gave us some of the best Matrix content ever made. Some episodes had nothing to do with Neo or the original trilogy, and they were fantastic. Emotional. Wild. Creative. There’s so much to explore in this world: rogue programs, outliers, resistance cells, human-machine hybrids, underground hackers who start to suspect reality is off...
THAT'S the story I want. That’s the story we need.
And thankfully, it looks like the Wachowskis are stepping aside for this one. I love them for creating this universe—but maybe it’s time to hand the keys to someone new. Drew Goddard could be the right person. He’s proven that he can write compelling characters, tight action, and twisty sci-fi. If he brings his Daredevil sensibility to The Matrix—a grounded, gritty, character-first approach—we might actually get something worth watching.
But only if they resist the urge to bring Neo back one more time.
Let him be unplugged. Let him rest. Let the man log off.
I’ll always love The Matrix. I actually still have a green code screensaver (not even joking, it's embarrassing). But I don’t need another movie about The One.
I need a new story in a world that still has so much left to say.