I am going to tell you what I thought of this movie. But before I tell you what I thought of this movie, I am going to pose to you a question. It is a question of central import, a question of fundamental truths, a question that comes both before and after all other questions. It is perhaps the question of our times. But before I ask the question, I want, no need, to start at the ending. For before the ending the movie began, and after the ending the movie was no more. And now I will ask you the question, and then I will tell you what I thought of this movie. And that question, dear reader, if you're still there, is unfortunately but most precisely this:
Who told the Wachowski brothers they could write, and is this person also responsible for all the boring meta-dialogue they inflict upon us?The only movie I've seen with more meaningless dialogue about its own dialogue was the second Matrix flick, and that ain't high praise. I make my own entertainment out of it. For instance, when a character is suddenly avoiding contractions—I am going to tell you...—I bet myself that nothing will ever actually be said.
Winner!
As for the movie, it was about what I expected, if skimpier on the action. I was entertained, but probably not enough that I would recommend you spend nine bucks on it. At least this was a comic book movie with a higher purpose; it's a timely parable about citizens' acquiescence in the eroding of their own liberties. Of course, it's a parable with stylish (and unintentionally funny) "knife trails" as our hero chops up police, so it's limited.