THE MATRIX by Larry and Andy Wachowski
FADE IN ON:
So close it has no boundaries.
A blinking cursor pulses in the electric darkness like a
heart coursing with phosphorous light, burning beneath
the derma of black-neon glass.
A PHONE begins to RING, we hear it as though we were
making the call. The cursor continues to throb,
relentlessly patient, until --
Data now slashes across the screen, information flashing
faster than we read.
Call trans opt: received.
2-19-96 13:24:18 REC:Log>
I'm inside. Anything to report?
We listen to the phone conversation as though we were on
a third line. The man's name is CYPHER. The woman,
Let's see. Target left work at
Trace program: running.
The entire screen fills with racing columns of numbers.
Shimmering like green-electric rivets, they rush at a 10-
digit phone number in the top corner.
He caught the northbound Howard
line. Got off at Sheridan.
Stopped at 7-11. Purchased six-
pack of beer and a box of Captain
Crunch. Returned home.
The area code is identified. The first three numbers
suddenly fixed, leaving only seven flowing columns.
We begin MOVING TOWARD the screen, CLOSING IN as each
digit is matched, one by one, snapping into place like
the wheels of a slot machine.
All right, you're relieved. Use
the usual exit.
Do you know when we're going to
Only two thin digits left.
Just between you and me, you don't
believe it, do you? You don't
believe this guy is the one?
I think Morpheus believes he is.
I know. But what about you?
I think Morpheus knows things that
Yeah, but if he's wrong --
The final number pops into place --
Did you hear that?
Trace complete. Call origin:
Are you sure this line is clean?
Yeah, course I'm sure.
We MOVE STILL CLOSER, the ELECTRIC HUM of the green
numbers GROWING INTO an OMINOUS ROAR.
I better go.
Yeah. Right. See you on the other side.
She hangs up as we PASS THROUGH the numbers, entering the
netherworld of the computer screen.
Where gradually the sound of a police radio grows around
Attention all units. Attention
Suddenly, a flashlight cuts open the darkness and we find
ourselves in --
INT. CHASE HOTEL - NIGHT
The hotel was abandoned after a fire licked its way
across the polyester carpeting, destroying several rooms
as it spooled soot up the walls and ceiling leaving
patterns of permanent shadow.
We FOLLOW four armed POLICE officers using flashlights as
they creep down the blackened hall and ready themselves
on either side of room 303.
The biggest of them violently kicks in the door --
The other cops pour in behind him, guns thrust before
The room is almost devoid of furniture. There is a fold-
up table and chair with a phone, a modern, and a powerbook
computer. The only light in the room is the glow of the
Sitting there, her hands still on the keyboard, is
TRINITY; a woman in black leather.
Get your hands behind your head!
Hands behind your head! Now! Do
She slowly puts her hands behind her head.
EXT. CHASE HOTEL - NIGHT
A black sedan with tinted windows glides in through the
AGENT SMITH and AGENT BROWN get out of the car.
They wear dark suits and sunglasses even at night. They
are also always hardwired; small Secret Service earphones
in one ear, its cord coiling back into their shirt
Lieutenant, you were given
specific orders --
I'm just doing my job. You gimme
that Juris-my dick-tion and you
can cran it up your ass.
The orders were for your protection.
The Lieutenant laughs.
I think we can handle one little
Agent Smith nods to Agent Brown as they start toward the
I sent two units. They're
bringing her down now.
No, Lieutenant, your men are dead.
INT. CHASE HOTEL
The Big Cop flicks out his cuffs, the other cops holding
a bead. They've done this a hundred times, they know
they've got her, until the Big Cop reaches with the cuff
and Trinity moves --
It almost doesn't register, so smooth and fast, inhumanly
The eye blinks and Trinity's palm. snaps up and the nose
explodes, blood erupting. The cop is dead before he
begins to fall.
And Trinity is moving again --
Seizing a wrist, misdirecting a gun, as a startled cop
A head explodes.
In blind panic, another airs his gun, the barrel, a fixed
black hole --
And FIRES --
Trinity twists out of the way, the bullet missing as she
reverses into a roundhouse kick, knocking the gun away.
The cop begins to scream when a jump kick crushes his
windpipe, killing the scream as he falls to the ground.
She looks at the four bodies.
EXT. CHASE HOTEL
Agent Brown enters the hotel, while Agent Smith heads for
INT. CHASE HOTEL
Trinity is on the phone, pacing. The other end is
Morpheus! The link was traced! I
don't know how.
I know. Stay calm.
Are there any agents?
You have to focus. There is a
phone. Wells and Laxe. You can
She takes a deep breath, centering herself.
All right --
She drops the phone.
She bursts out of the room as Agent Brown enters the hall,
leading another unit of police. Trinity races to the
opposite end, exiting through a broken window onto the
EXT. FIRE E5CAPE
In the alley below, Trinity sees Agent Smith staring at
her. She can only go up.
On the roof, Trinity is running as Agent Brown rises over
the parapet, leading the cops in pursuit.
Trinity begins to jump from one roof to the next, her
moverents so clean, gliding in and out of each jump,
contrasted to the wild jumps of the cops.
Agent Brown, however, has the same unnatural grace.
The METAL SCREAM of an EL TRAIN is heard and Trinity
turns to it, racing for the back of the building.
The edge falls away into a wide back alley. The next
building is over 40 feet away, but Trinity's face is
perfectly calm, staring at some point beyond the other
The cops slow, realizing they are about to see something
ugly as Trinity drives at the edge, launching herself
into the air.
From above, the ground seems to flow beneath her as she
hangs in flight --
Then hitting, somersaulting up, still running hard.
Motherfucker -- that's impossible!
They stare, slack-jawed, as Agent Brown duplicates the
move exactly, landing, rolling over a shoulder, up onto
Just below the building are the runbling tracks of
riveted steel. The TRAIN SCREECHES beneath her, a
rattling blur of gray metal. Trinity junps, landing
She looks back just as Agent Brown hurls through the air
barely reaching the last car.
Agent Brown stands, yanking out a gun.
Trinity is running hard as BULLETS WHISTLE past her head.
Ahead she sees her only chance, 50 feet beyond the point
where the train has begun to turn, there is --
A window; a yellow glow in the midst of a dark brick
Trinity zeroes in on it, running as hard as she can, her
speed compounded by the train. The SCREAM of the STEEL
rises as she nears the edge where the train rocks into the
Trinity hurtles into the empty night space, her body
leveling into a dive. She falls, arms covering her head
The whole world seems to spin on its axis --
And she crashes with an EXPLOSION of GLASS and WOOD, then
falls onto a back stairwell, tumbling, bouncing down
stairs bleeding, broken --
But still alive.
Through the smashed window, she glimpses Agent Brown,
still on the train, his tie and coat whipping in the
wind; stone-faced, he touches his ear piece as the train
slides him past the window.
Trinity tries to move. Everything hurts.
Get up, Trinity. You're fine.
Get up -- just get up!
She stands and limps down the rest of the stairs.
Trinity emerges from the shadows of an alley and, at the
end of the block, in a pool of white street light, she
The telephone booth.
Obviously hurt, she starts down the concrete walk,
focusing in completely, her pace quickening, as the PHONE
begins to RING.
Across the street, a garbage truck suddenly u-turns, its
TIRES SCREAMING as it accelerates.
Trinity sees the headlights on the truck arcing at the
telephone booth as if taking aim.
Gritting through the pain, she races the truck --
Slamming into the booth, the headlights blindingly
bright, bearing down on the box of Plexiglas just as --
She answers the phone.
There is a frozen instant of silence before the hulking
mass of dark metal lurches up onto the sidewalk --
Barreling through the booth, bulldozing it into a brick
wall, smashing it to Plexiglas pulp.
After a moment, a black loafer steps down from the cab of
the garbage truck. Agent Smith inspects the wreckage.
There is no body. Trinity is gone.
His jaw sets as he grinds his molars in frustration.
AGENT JONES walks up behind him.
Did you get anything from the
Their next target. The name is
The handset of the pay phone lays on the ground,
separated in the crash like a severed limb.
We'll need a search running.
It's already begun.
We are SUCKED TOWARDS the mouthpiece of the phone, CLOSER
and CLOSER, UNTIL the smooth gray plastic spreads out
like a horizon and the small HOLES WIDEN until we fall
through one --
Swallowed by the darkness that becomes --
A computer screen.
We are on-line, inside a chat room called "The Matrix."
It is an exklusive web-site where hackers hang out.
JACKON: I heard Morpheus has been
on this board.
SUPERASTIC: Morpheus doesn't even
exist and the Matrix is nothing
but an advertising gimmick 4 a new
TIMAXE: All I want to know is
Trinity really a girl?
LODIII: 87% of all women on line
are really men.
QUARK: The Matrix is a euphemism
for the government.
SUPERASTIC: No, The Matrix is the
system controlling our lives.
TIMAXE: You mean MTV.
SUPERASTIC: I mean Sega.
FOS4: ALL HAIL SEGA!!!
We drift back from the electric conversation entering --
INT. NEO'S APARTMENT
It is a studio apartirent that seems overgrown with
Weed-like cables coil everywhere, duct-taped into
thickets that wind up and around the legs of several
Tabletops are filled with cannibalized equipment that lay
open like an autopsied corpse.
We turn towards the center of this rat-nest of
technology, following the slurping and crunching of
cereal. We pass an open box of Capln Crunch as we find --
NEO, a younger man who knows more about living inside a
computer than living outside one.
Fuckin' idiots don't know shit.
He finishes his cereal and is about to disconnect when an
anonynous message slices onto the screen.
Do you want to know what the
Matrix is, Neo?
Neo is frozen when he reads his name.
SUPERASTIC: Who said that?
JACKON: Who's Neo?
GIBSON: This is a private board.
If you want to know, follow the
What the hell...
TIMAXE: Someone is hacking the
FOS4: It's Morpheus!!!!!
JACKON: Identify yourself.
Knock, knock, Neo.
A chill runs down his spine and when someone KNOCKS on
his door he almost jumps out of his chair.
He looks at the door, then back at the computer but the
message is gone.
He shakes his head, not completely sure what happened.
Again, someone knocks.
Cautiously, Neo approaches the door.
Return To Main page