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Seen: 2003.11.17 ¶ Reviewed: 2003.12.28
How could it possibly be even worse than Reloaded?
In a superspecial twist, two students from Ryerson’s School of Disability Studies came along. Mr. X and I just missed them as they went in. They weren’t wild about the whole system (they had trouble with the reflector – one of them, at least), but they certainly saw that it worked. They also noted the lack of upkeep of the system; they’re politicized that way. I asked them to write of their own experiences for this page, but they didn’t.
No descriptions whatsoever. And a lot of pixels missing or faded on the display. And the emitter is in the way of the display. Short of complete system failure, it can’t get worse than this. (Well, I suppose the captions and/or descriptions could skip and rerun.)
Oh, and when Trinity dies? Some guy in the auditorium faux-snored.
(music builds to a flurry). Indeed.
The phrases l’ange sent ses ailes and quelle bonne surprise, n’est-ce pas? were rendered as (speaking French). Well, I mean, I understood them.
Ultra-hideous break:
They got some
pretty ancient ¶
hacks here.
Worse yet:
hammers as deep ¶
as we can, then blow our ¶
EMP.
(birds chirping outside) captioned, but not what’s really important in the scene – door opening and Agent Smith walking in.
Broken.
Inapplicable.
Well, I had quite the discussion, let me tell you. The projectionist inaugurated his new pattern of refusing to come down and talk to me. I chalk this up to yet further embarrassment that his tight ship is letting him down publicly.
I explain everything to a different manageress, who promises to write it up. As I walk away, she reappears and asks me to write it up. I do, though I shouldn’t have to.