So the 6-hour cue-to-cue begins. I was O.K. with the vast oceans of time I'd be privvy to this afternoon, until I realized that all the lights are out and I have no light with which to do my vast oceans of homework. Now I'm just going to wander around the back of the set until I accidentally knock something over and get yelled at by our lighting director, who is about two skit drafts away from Nick Burns, Your Company's Computer Guy ("...by the way, you're welcome!").

Forty-five minutes into the movie, I was convinced The Matrix Revolutions was going to suck and the trilogy would end with its tail between its legs, but the two climaxes totally redeemed the Wachowskis. There was a definite turning point in the middle when it crossed over from consummate boredom to steadily increasing excitement, and I think the turning point was when Neo walks into the room of the Millenium Fal-- er, Nebuchadnezzar, and says "I'm going to the Machine City." Which is reasonably the corniest line ever, but at least it gives a clear objective for somebody to do something, which was not happening in spades before then. Also, 16 hours ago I walked away from the theater thinking every scene between the two butch lesbians and the big overtly sexual bazooka were the greatest parts of the trilogy, and you know what's changed since then? Nothing.

Looks like it's time for me to go on. Oops! No, it's still the FREAKIN ACT 1 PROLOGUE.