Matrix Resurrections brings back all the excitement. It picks up where trilogy ended. Neo dives into a new Matrix. He meets old friends and faces new challenges. It is all about uncovering truth of his reality. With an amazing cast, it is set to deliver mind-bending action and deep themes. Just like originals, it will keep you thinking. Get ready for a wild ride!

Meet the characters from The Matrix Resurrections

Neo

Neo is this oddly gentle, haunted hero who somehow manages to be both confused and absolutely sure at the same time — like a guy who lost his keys but also remembers how to move mountains. He’s quiet when you expect fireworks, and then suddenly he’s doing something that makes you clap even though you didn’t know you could clap at a man standing very still. There’s this weird vulnerability under all the destiny-stuff, like he’ll apologize to a machine and mean it. Also, he apparently has a thing for leather coats and terrible takeout, which is both endearing and suspicious.

Trinity

Trinity is pure grit wrapped in tenderness and also she destroys motorcycles for fun, probably while crying a little on the inside — in a good way. She’s fiercely loyal, can wire a city or throw someone through a billboard without looking, and somehow balances heartbreak and badassery like a pro. She’s stoic but will absolutely stare at you for three minutes straight if you say something dumb, which I love. Small weird detail: I’m like 80% sure she hoards spare hairpins and will use them as weapons, planners, and bookmarks.

Morpheus

Morpheus is the granddad-level charismatic cult-leader who’s read too many philosophy books and somehow still believes brunch will fix everything, which is both infuriating and comforting. He’s a believer, a recruiter, the person who says the big lines and makes them land, but he’s also stubborn in a charmingly tragic way. Sometimes he’s a teacher, sometimes a tactical nightmare, and sometimes he just looks like he’s about to give a TED Talk on destiny. Quirk: insists on polishing sunglasses like they are medals, which I find adorable and slightly ominous.

Smith

Smith is the slithery, smirking void you can’t ignore — like an irritatingly clever cold sore of a villain. He turns everything into a mirror of himself; monotonous and theatrical, he repeats things until you believe them or run screaming. There’s this grin that suggests he’s having the worst kind of fun, and you can’t tell if he’s bored or ecstatic, sometimes both. Also, I always get the impression he likes puzzles and answering rhetorical questions with actual plans.

Bugs

Bugs is the scrappy, bright-eyed pilot/leader hybrid who reads old comics, drinks too much coffee, and refuses to accept “no” as an answer. She’s got this relentless optimism that is equal parts contagious and slightly terrifying — in a good leadership way. She’s funny, impulsive, and astonishingly good at breaking into things while wearing an ironic sweater. Tiny detail: she probably names her ship after a forgotten cartoon character and will defend that name in court.

The Analyst

The Analyst is chillingly calm, eerily meticulous, and somehow both a therapist and a puppet-master — which is the worst combo if you like being manipulated politely. They measure feelings like metrics and make uncomfortable trade-offs while smiling in a very narrow, precise way. There’s a quiet humorlessness that feels like a clock counting down, and also a weird affection for numbers that borderlines hobby and obsession. Also, will likely keep a notebook of everyone’s pet names for each other, which is both creepy and oddly intimate.

Niobe

Niobe is the no-nonsense captain who’s tired of speeches and just wants results, but also she has a whole romantic history that softens her like warm butter on sternness. She commands respect effortlessly, makes impossible choices, and somehow stays cool while things literally explode around her. She’s practical to a fault but has these tiny nostalgic habits, like keeping a plant aboard the ship that she talks to when no one’s looking. Small contradiction: she hates small talk but will wax poetic about old flight routes for half an hour if you let her.

Sati

Sati is this tiny, luminous program with the sweetest mix of childlike wonder and old-soul wisdom, and yes she definitely enjoys rearranging lights for fun. She’s playful, curiosity-first, and somehow gives you hope even when the world is glitching — like a pocket of sunshine that’s secretly super sharp. She drops cryptic little lines that make you think she’s been alive for centuries, then giggles and asks about cartoons. Also, she probably collects digital trinkets in a shoebox file called “treasures” and refuses to explain why.