I’ll be upfront, I’m not a fan of The Wachowskis. For me they exist in the same bracket as M. Night Shyamalan – filmmakers who are still good on the directing side, and remain convinced they can write, even though it’s painfully clear that they no longer possess that ability. It’s been an incredible 17 years since the Wachowskis last wrote a good script. That movie, of course, was The Matrix, a movie that will remain a seminal action movie for decades to come, but whose inevitable sequels seemed more perfunctory than anything else. Whereas The Matrix Reloaded was The Brett Ratner-quality sequel, Matrix: Revolutions was the Uwe Boll capper, a sequel so spectacularly terrible it could have been done by people who hated movies. And since then, The Wachowskis have gone to make a string of unwatchable crap – (Speed Racer, Cloud Atlas) – culminating in their latest, and worst, effort Jupiter Ascending.
AT THE FOOTHILLS OF MADNESS 