Adapting philosophy: Jean Baudrillard and *The Matrix Trilogy*

By Catherine Constable

Adapting Philosophy looks at the ways in which The Matrix Trilogy adapts Jean Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation, and in doing so creates its own distinctive philosophical position. Where previous work in the field has presented the trilogy as a simple ‘beginner’s guide’ to philosophy, this study offers a new methodology for inter-relating philosophy and film texts, focusing on the conceptual role played by imagery in both types of text. This focus on the figurative enables a new-found appreciation of the liveliness of philosophical writing and the multiple philosophical dimensions of Hollywood films. The book opens with a critical overview of existing philosophical writing on The Matrix Trilogy and goes on to draw on adaptation theory and feminist philosophy in order to create a new methodology for interlinking philosophical and filmic texts. Three chapters are devoted to detailed textual analyses of the films, tracing the ways in which the imagery that dominates Baudrillard’s writing is adapted and transformed by the trilogy’s complex visuals and soundtrack. The conclusion situates the methodology developed throughout the book in relation to other approaches currently emerging in the new field of Film-Philosophy. The book’s multi-disciplinary approach encompasses Philosophy, Film Studies and Adaptation Theory and will be of interest to undergraduates and postgraduates studying these subjects. It also forms part of the developing interdisciplinary field of Film-Philosophy. The detailed textual analyses of The Matrix Trilogy will also be of interest to anyone wishing to deepen their understanding of the multi-faceted nature of this seminal work.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Manchester University Press
• Release date: Jan 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781847798039

Catherine Constable

Catherine Constable is Associate Professor in Film Studies at the University of Warwick

Book preview

Introduction

The extensive literature on the philosophical aspects of The Matrix Trilogy perpetuates a number of highly problematic models for inter-relating philosophy and film texts. A great many of these articles are written by philosophers and do not draw on the literature that is available in the comparatively new interdisciplinary field of Film-Philosophy.¹ As a result, the majority treat the trilogy as a beginner’s guide to philosophy, positioning the films in two ways: positively, as useful examples that make the theories accessible; or negatively, as misinterpretations/distortions of the philosophical sources.² Importantly, viewing the films as mere illustrations or bad copies of their philosophical sources makes it quite impossible to ask a crucial question, namely: what is the philosophical project of the films themselves?

Providing an answer to this question gives the book a two-fold purpose. Firstly, addressing the issue of the films’ own project requires the delineation of a new methodology for inter-relating philosophical and filmic texts. Secondly, this methodology will be put into practice through a detailed assessment of the ways in which the trilogy takes up and metamorphoses Jean Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation. I have chosen to focus on this particular text because it is the only work of philosophy that the Wachowski brothers recommended as required reading for cast members, thus giving it a privileged status above the films’ other philosophical source material.³ It is the also the only philosophical work to have an on-screen role in the trilogy – famously appearing as the hiding place for Neo’s virtual reality contraband in the first film. Lastly, Baudrillard’s own widely publicised condemnation of the trilogy for misrepresenting his work has had the unfortunate effect of closing down debate,⁴ marking the reinstatement of a highly questionable model in which film texts merely function as bad copies of their illustrious philosophical sources.

Much of the writing on The Matrix Trilogy operates with the tacit assumption that philosophy and film have very little in common. Philosophy is typically defined as logical, reasoned argument; conversely the feature film is a form of light entertainment. The suggestion that film might be philosophical becomes even more problematic when the films in question are a series of hugely successful blockbusters. The Matrix cost 63 million dollars to make and netted 171 million in the United States and 456 million worldwide. While the sequels were more expensive, costing 300 million dollars to make, the total worldwide sales of the trilogy are estimated at 1.5 billion dollars so far.⁵ The blockbuster ensures its mass appeal by offering easily accessible narratives to a youthful target audience of adolescent males. Such films tend to be regarded as visceral rather than conceptual, roller coasters of fights, fires and explosions prefiguring the computer games and amusement park rides that they will become. Typically, the blockbuster uses such marketing tie-ins as a significant source of income generation. William Merrin draws attention to the ways in which the ‘aestheticised hypercool noir’ of The Matrix becomes a form of advertising that displaces the heroes of the narrative.⁶ ‘Arguably the stars of the film are not Neo and Morpheus but their clip-on shades, leather coats … and mobile phones.’⁷ Importantly, the visceral pleasures offered by the blockbuster would appear to be the antithesis of the detached reflection that defines philosophical writing, thus setting up a series of clear oppositions between film/philosophy, body/mind, pleasure/logic and emotion/reason.

These oppositions are consolidated by the blockbuster’s undeniable status as the epitome of capitalist excess. The promotion of consumption via product placement is part of a life-style that is entirely at odds with the ascetic emphasis on transcending the every-day that is said to characterise much of Western philosophy. The most famous, albeit extreme, example is Socrates who willingly embraces death rather than continuing to live within the mutable, transient, physical world. This underpins a conception of philosophy as a form of critical reflection that rises above the ephemeral distractions of the day to day. The outstanding economic success of The Matrix Trilogy also means that left-wing academics (still the majority within Arts subjects) will seek to demonstrate that it is intrinsically worthless. As a capitalist product par excellence the films are deemed to be necessarily incapable of conveying radical critique or even thoughtful insight. Elie During’s comic aside reflects the problems facing serious academics who deign to write on the trilogy. ‘Most intellectuals would probably have condoned a semi-ironic reading of an unknown Taiwanese B grade film, but to dare to speak seriously of a blockbuster … was probably asking a bit too much of them.’⁸

The blockbuster’s lack of intellectual cachet ensures that much of the academic writing on the trilogy is marked by ambivalence. Stefan Herbrechter comments on the distinctive tonality of the writing in his introduction to The Matrix in Theory, arguing that it is the consequence of academic misgivings about the critical/theoretical validity of low cultural forms.

Significantly some kind of uneasiness quickly surfaces in most contributions to the debate. For some it may still be a question of ‘serious’ academics having to be apologetic about delving into ‘low’ popular culture and indulging in some form of compromising … ‘pleasure’. For others it might just be even more evidence of (cultural) theory’s or (cultural) studies’ weakness to take blockbuster culture … too seriously. How can ‘serious’ thinkers, even philosophers, sink so low as to find their inspiration in facile, superficial and largely incoherent, eclectic mass media franchises?⁹

The final question is Herbrechter’s sarcastic send up of a position to which he and I do not subscribe. However, the remark is enlightening because it summarises a particular position in which philosophy is valorised as the highest of high culture. When written from this perspective, philosophical analyses of The Matrix Trilogy play across an extreme form of the opposition between high and low culture. The unresolved tensions set up recurring patterns of tonal shifts that feature in a great number of the articles: from embarrassment at having to address the films at all, to outbursts of vitriolic critique.

Importantly, the distinctive tonality of much of the philosophical writing on the trilogy immediately calls into question the standard definition of philosophy as detached, purely rational, discourse. If the vitriolic invective to which the films are subjected suggests that philosophy has its share of (unacknowledged) visceral pleasures, then the standard oppositions between film/philosophy, emotion/reason cannot be regarded as secure. Such instability means that it is possible for a blockbuster to be both exciting and thought provoking – indeed for there to be such a thing as ‘an intellectual action movie’.¹⁰ This constitutes the starting point of the film analyses offered in later chapters. However, the purpose of chapters one and two is to set out the formidable range of arguments, prejudices and well-worn oppositions, which have to be challenged in order to begin to address the theoretical aspects of the films.

While Herbrechter traces the largely unconscious impact of the opposition between high and low culture on analyses of the trilogy, the hierarchical division is explicitly utilised within numerous articles, privileging the philosophical approach/material over the films’ textual detail. Furthermore, the blockbuster’s unfortunate status as the lowest of low culture means that such writing on the trilogy is marked by the reemergence of two long-held prejudices about cinema. Firstly, the trilogy suffers from what Robert Stam describes as ‘a socialized form of guilt by association’ in which ‘cinema … is seen as degraded by the company it keeps – the great unwashed popular mass audience, with its lower-class origins in vulgar spectacles like sideshows and carnivals.’¹¹ The blockbuster’s emphasis on excessive spectacle is often seen as a direct link to its vulgar non-cinematic roots. The second prejudice arises from the equation of the mass audience with mass accessibility, fuelling the general assumption that ‘it takes no brains to sit down and watch a film.’¹² Stam argues against this, stating simply: ‘This is rather like saying that it takes no brains to sit down and read a novel; what matters, in both cases is understanding what one sees or reads.’¹³

The unfortunate reemergence of these two prejudices in numerous articles results in a reworking of the opposition between film/philosophy as a division between two types of audience: the masses who lack cultural capital and the philosopher-critics who possess high levels of it. Importantly, this reinforces the assumption that the latter have nothing to learn from the films. Very few of the philosophical analyses bother to engage with the rich, image-literate, textual detail of the trilogy in a systematic or rigorous way. Moreover, there is almost no engagement with any works from Film Studies – as though analysing a film was something automatic rather than, at the very least, a learned skill that can be done more or less well.¹⁴ The absence of references to key works from Film Studies is indicative of a lack of respect for the subject area, marking an entrenching of traditional academic hierarchies in which elder statesmen, such as philosophy, are privileged over young pretenders.

This brief sketch of the hierarchies, general prejudices and assumptions that inform many of the articles on the trilogy is vital because it provides a backdrop for the debates to come. The possible relations between philosophy and film are constructed through the intersection of a series of binary oppositions, such as: intellectual/visceral, academic/profit-making, high/low culture. Within this context, film is seen to have so little to offer that the inter-relation of the two areas takes place under conditions that are entirely set by philosophy. Most of the philosophical writing on the trilogy is not interdisciplinary and does not make use of the available literature in Film-Philosophy. It operates with the tacit assumption that philosophy is a universal form of meta-critique that can be applied without modification to any field. Recognising the unequal power relations between philosophy and film is vital to comprehending the very limited range of roles allocated to the films in much of the philosophical writing on the trilogy.

The limited range of roles offered to the films is fully explored in chapter one, which offers a meta-critical overview of philosophical writing on The Matrix Trilogy. The treatment of the films as introductions or illustrations can be seen to utilise models drawn from adaptation theory. Importantly, much of the writing on the philosophical aspects of the films utilises the criterion of fidelity to the original source. It is particularly prevalent in the analysis of the trilogy’s use of Baudrillard, reducing any departure from the source to a misrepresentation of his work. The problems arising from the criterion of fidelity itself are also addressed. The chapter ends with a consideration of some of the more positive models of the trilogy as a form of philosophy, which have been created by theorists in Film-Philosophy: Christopher Falzon and Thomas Wartenberg.¹⁵ However, the philosophical aspect of the films is largely said to reside in its audience effects – provoking people to thought – leaving the question of the trilogy’s own philosophical project still unanswered.

Chapter two sets up the methodology for answering the question. This involves challenging the dominant binary hierarchies of reason/emotion and intellectual/visceral that make it impossible to envisage such a thing as a philosophical film. The binaries are shown to have their basis in the philosophical opposition between word and image. This gains a new lease of life in adaptation theory where the literary word is seen to be conceptual and symbolic, while the filmic image is defined as perceptual and largely literal. The argument that films can be philosophical is two-fold. Firstly, the chapter utilises the work of Kamilla Elliott in order to demonstrate that the filmic multitrack is capable of constructing complex visual, verbal and aural figures.¹⁶ This is combined with Michèle Le Doeuff’s work on the conceptual role played by imagery within philosophy.¹⁷ Thus the overall argument is that philosophy and film are profoundly linked through their reliance on symbolic figuration, additionally, the role of figures in the construction of concepts and arguments means that films – even blockbusters – can be philosophical.

The next three chapters put the methodology delineated in chapter two into practice by offering detailed textual readings of Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation and The Matrix Trilogy. The analysis of the philosophical text unpicks the complex symbolism of the figures that feature in the writing, explaining their significance in the development of specific concepts and arguments. The verbal figures will be compared with the filmic figures and the detailed readings of the trilogy will address all the potentially intersecting elements of film’s visual, verbal and aural multitrack. The analyses note key points of divergence from the source text. Unlike standard fidelity criticism where divergence is regarded as an unforgivable distortion of the original, departures from the source are viewed as the starting points of the trilogy’s own philosophical project. This is indicated by the use of the term ‘take up’ throughout the book, for example The Matrix Trilogy’s take up of Baudrillard, to indicate an active engagement that encompasses borrowing, adapting and changing source material. The methodology draws on aspects of Elliott’s conception of adaptation as a form of metamorphosis.¹⁸ The analyses also trace the ways in which the changes to the source can be pieced together, thereby creating a different philosophical position.

Chapters three and four address specific recurring figures and their associated arguments from Simulacra and Simulation, before focusing on the ways in which they are taken up and altered across the trilogy. Chapter three examines the complex construction of key objects, specifically mirrors and television/computer screens, in Baudrillard’s work and their reformulation in The Matrix. It also addresses the re-emergence of the word/image dichotomy in philosophical analyses of the first film and its impact on the reading of narrative and character. Chapter four focuses on Baudrillard’s concept of ‘the code’, which combines elements of digital and genetic coding. The chapter addresses the three key roles allocated to the code. It is said to constitute: a unifying underlying substance, a form of serial duplication – such as cloning, and a deterministic model of technical/biological pre-programming. The textual analysis will show that of the trilogy it is The Matrix Reloaded that engages with all three conceptions of the code, revising its characteristics through a complex presentation of visual/verbal figures and multilayered forms of narrative.

Chapter five examines Baudrillard’s famous, final chapter ‘On Nihilism’ in which the philosopher revisits his conception of the code as a pre-programmed system. The writing is dense and ambivalent, ostensibly overriding previous delineations of possible ways out of the system. The endeavour to piece together Baudrillard’s overall position is paralleled by an analysis of the trilogy’s changes to the source text and their contribution to the creation of a theoretical position that goes beyond nihilism. However, the films’ presentation of the possibility of systemic change does not involve the reinstatement of a transcendental model of heroic individualism. The solution retains elements of Baudrillardian postmodernism in that the hero remains embroiled within the system, constituted by the very code that he reworks. The Matrix Trilogy goes beyond Baudrillard in offering a conception of systemic change that is effected by new relations between the objects/products of the system itself, thereby creating a new vision of a possible and positive techno-future.

The conclusion returns to a consideration of the methodology that has been developed and demonstrated across the book. The summary of the film reading is accompanied by a brief analysis of The Matrix Trilogy’s contribution to postmodern philosophy, positioning it alongside the work of Donna Haraway. While the trilogy’s philosophical position is postmodern, the conclusion will show that the reading strategies used to delineate it are not. This will be followed by an assessment of the differences between my methodology for inter-relating philosophical and filmic texts and two other approaches in the field of Film-Philosophy set up by Thomas Wartenberg and Stephen Mulhall.¹⁹ The delineation of key differences and points of resemblance will help to clarify my position, which draws on my previous work, Thinking in Images, to offer a model of philosophy as thought in figuration.²⁰

Notes

1 E.g. T. Wartenberg, Thinking on Screen: Film as Philosophy (London and New York: Routledge, 2007) and S. Mulhall, On Film (2nd ed.) (London and New York: Routledge, 2008).

2 E.g. C. Grau, (ed.) Philosophers Explore The Matrix (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), W. Irwin, (ed.) The Matrix and Philosophy: Welcome to the Desert of the Real (Chicago and La Salle: Open Court Publishing, 2002), W. Irwin, (ed.) More Matrix and Philosophy: Revolutions and Reloaded Decoded (Chicago and La Salle: Open Court Publishing, 2005) and G. Yeffeth (ed.) Taking the Red Pill: Science, Philosophy and Religion in the Matrix (Chichester: Summersdale Publishers Ltd, 2003).

3 A. Gordon, ‘The Matrix: paradigm of postmodernism or intellectual poseur? Part II’ in Yeffeth (ed.) Taking the Red Pill, pp. 102–23, p. 103. John Stratton reports that the Wachowskis gave Keanu Reeves three books to read: Simulacra and Simulation, Kevin Kelly’s Out of Control and Dylan Evans’ Introducing Evolutionary Psychology. J. Stratton, ‘So tonight I’m gonna party like it’s 1999: looking forward to The Matrix’, in M. Diocaretz and S. Herbrechter (eds) The Matrix in Theory, (Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 2006), pp. 27–52, p. 31, fn. 2.

4 J. Baudrillard, ‘The Matrix decoded: Le Nouvel Observateur interview with Jean Baudrillard’, trans. G. Genosko and A. Bryx, International Journal of Baudrillard Studies, 12 (2004) www.ubishops.ca/baudrillardstudies/vol1_2/genosko.htm (accessed on 12/3/07).

5 Stratton, ‘So tonight I’m gonna party …’, in Diocartez and Herbrechter (eds) The Matrix in Theory, pp. 27–8.

6 W. Merrin, Baudrillard and The Media: A Critical Introduction (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2005) p. 116.

7 Ibid., p. 123.

8 Elie During, ‘Is there an exit from virtual reality? Grid and network – from Tron to The Matrix’, in Diocaretz and Herbrechter (eds) The Matrix in Theory, pp. 131–50, p. 132.

9 S. Herbrechter, ‘Introduction: theory in The Matrix’, in Diocaretz and Herbrechter (eds) The Matrix in Theory, pp. 7–23, p. 7. My italics.

10 Interview with Larry Wachowski quoted in A. Gordon, ‘The Matrix: paradigm of postmodernism or intellectual poseur? part II’, in Yeffeth (ed.) Taking the Red Pill, p. 103.

11 Stam, ‘Introduction: the theory and practice of adaptation’, in Stam and Raengo (eds) Literature and Film, p. 7.

12 Ibid., the quotation is from one of Stam’s literature professors!

13 Ibid., p. 7. Italics mine.

14 Even David Bordwell’s minimal and hostile definition of textual analysis as the product of ‘craft-like’ routines reflects its status as a learned skill. D. Bordwell, Making Meaning: Inference and Rhetoric in the Interpretation of Cinema (Cambridge Massachusetts and London: Harvard University Press, 1989) p. 7.

15 T. Wartenberg, ‘Philosophy screened: experiencing The Matrix’, Midwest Studies in Philosophy, (27) 2003, 139–52. C. Falzon, ‘Philosophy and The Matrix’, in Diocaretz and Herbrechter (eds) The Matrix in Theory, pp. 97–112.

16 K. Elliott, Rethinking the Novel/Film Debate (New York and Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003).

17 This builds on my previous work on Le Doeuff, in C. Constable, Thinking in Images: Film Theory, Feminist Philosophy and Marlene Dietrich (London: British Film Institute, 2005) pp. 29–37, 50–1; and C. Constable, ‘Baudrillard reloaded: interrelating philosophy and film via The Matrix Trilogy’, Screen, 47:2, (summer 2006), pp. 233–8, 249.

18 Elliott, Rethinking the Novel/Film Debate, pp. 229–30.

19 Wartenberg, Thinking on Screen: Film as Philosophy (London and New York: Routledge, 2007) and Mulhall, On Film (2nd ed.).

20 Constable, Thinking in Images.

1

Good example, bad philosophy

The first part of this chapter will offer a meta-critical analysis of the extensive literature on the philosophical aspects of The Matrix Trilogy, exploring the theoretical assumptions that underpin general conceptions of the ways philosophical and filmic texts can be inter-related. The majority of the writing on the trilogy presents the films as introductions to philosophy, setting out a two-tier model in which the films are compared and contrasted with their more