The Matrix Explained as a Three Act Structure

The Wachowski Brothers movie The Matrix exhibits a classic hollywood 3-act structure.

The first act involves the introduction of the main characters: Neo, Trinity, Morpheus, and Agent Smith. Not much is need for establishment in terms of setting and plot here as the setup is fairly simple. Escalating action occurs during a panicked car ride as Trinity attempts to remove a tracer implanted in the protagonist. The mini-climax for the first act comes when Neo is forced to make a choice between the red pill and the blue pill, whether or not to follow the rabbit. It poses the question of "what's down the rabbit hole?"

The second act answers this question with a stark change in setting and plot. The hacker night scene is now replaced with a mechanized world of AI dominance and the quest now is to discover if Neo is "the one." This act is focused mainly around Neo's training and a quest for knowledge. The complication in this act revolves mainly around the question of the protagonist's power, if he is the savior of man. The escalating action of the second act is a gun fight in which most of the team dies due to a double-cross. The second mini-climax is the capture of the fearless leader, Morpheus. This raises the stakes by risking the loss of the man who brought Neo into the real world. The question asked is "will Neo be able to recover his mentor and rise to his full potential?"

The third act revolves around the rescue of Morpheus. Trinity and Neo return to the Matrix and fight a battle against a horde of security guards and agents. The escalating action occurs when Morpheus is finally rescued with the helicopter. This answers the first part of the second mini-climax's question, but what about the second part? When Neo stays behind to finally face off with the protagonist, Agent Smith, the final climax occurs. The protagonist stops bullets and defeats three agents, answering the second part of the question. Neo lives up to being deemed as "the one."

It's basic. It's formulaic. But damn is it good.

Nothing Changes, Nor Ever Will

Sitcoms are known to follow a very specific formula, one that was created long ago. The most important aspect of said formula is the sense of consistency. Where some series like "Lost" and "House" evolve over time to create an overarching story, situational comedies retain short, episode-long narratives that serve as a cookie-cutter templates for an unchanging concept. After the initial concepts of the program are set (characters, setting, general plot types), the only parts that are altered are the short term plot points. The incidences are wrapped up within the episode to prevent any lingering questions about continuity.

One of my favorite sitcoms is "King of Queens." In one episode, the two main characters fight about having a baby. The conflict rises to engulf every part of their lives, turning them against each other. By the time the 22 minutes are up, the two are back as they were, loving but dysfunctional, having resolved the child issue. In the next episode, the fight is never discussed at any length and the characters go on as if nothing ever happened, a classic sitcom scenario.

Shot Use In Memento

Being that Memento is my favorite movie, I decided to use it to show the use of the three shot types.

Throughout the film, we are given glimpses of a conversation the main character has with a mysterious character on the phone. We know nothing about our mystery man, only what the director and cinematographer choose to display through the emotions of the leading actor. Through a close up, we can see the character's initial comfort and ease when telling a story through the phone until shock and horror run through his system when he reads the tattoo on his thigh telling him to never pick up the phone.

After the main character and the woman he meets have an imitate experience, they stand together in her house in front of the mirror. The stare in wonder at his tattooed body that gives the clues needed to find his wife's killer. Their relationship is clearly displayed in the medium shot; he stands, stalwart and distant, as she grasps his chest from behind. She wants him, and he wants nothing to do with her. All this is told through the correct use of the medium shot.

At the end of the film, the main character decides to destroy evidence that he has already "avenged" the murder of his wife in order to allow the continual puzzle to be forever incomplete. In a long shot, he enters a car outside an abandoned warehouse, and drives off. Through the use of this shot, the character is portrayed as alone and lost as he sets off, although he doesn't know, to complete a fool's errand. Only his polaroids are there to comfort him as the film ends and his quest begins.

Warner Owned Casablanca...and Humphrey Bogart

The concept about the studio I found the most interesting was the concept of actor "stables." The performers were contracted and guaranteed to work for a certain amount of time or films. The heads of Warner, MGM, Paramount, and many others used this concept to the fullest, cranking out every movie possible within each actor's contract. This accomplished two things. Firstly, it created stars out of the most overworked actors; many participants would often attend the theater only to see their favorite star again. It also fueled the production line aspect of the business. By always having great actors available, films could be created at an astonishing rate, weeding out the time necessary to find or negotiate talent. An example of this was Humphrey Bogart. He had already been in many a picture before Casablanca came along. When it did, the studio already had him and he archetype ready to shoot. The system was highly effective through acceptance of character repetition and quantity over quality.

This guided the way studios made films by relying on the actors to carry the film, not the plot. Humphrey Bogart did not play Rick in Casablanca, he played classic Humphrey Bogart, smooth, forceful, and torn. The studios would alter films around what filled their "stable," and not their page. Often audiences would be treated to a western, with a dancing scene simply because Gene Kelly happened to be cast.

The studios made the most efficient use of what they could get their hands on, and it worked.

All In The Family

The program that showcased the typical suburban family past their prime surprisingly relates very well to the much more recent show Arrested Development. Both shows demonstrate an uncommon family situation: one with the young couple living with their parents and the other with an entire extended family living together. Also, both explore issues that see great importance in the associated time period. They often see mildly controversial topics that serve as a centerpiece for the building tensions for which the audience continually returns.

The major difference is in the type of humor employed. The typical wordplay, irony, and slapstick comedy fails to meet the needs of today's audience. Shows like Arrested Development rely much more on boundary crossing and sarcasm to paint a clearly ridiculous picture of family life that exists nowhere else. All In The Family sticks to standard comedic ideals to match its standard family concept.

The issue differences lie in the limits of the era. The limits set for show 40 years vary greatly from the limits set today. Where All In The Family set the bar for edginess in a show by challenging the concept of homosexuality, Arrested Development explores ideas of incest, adultery, terrorism, and racism. The changing social constructs determine the content of a family sitcom like these.