Since its inception in the late 1920’s, the Walt Disney Corporation has for many become synonymous with - and demonstrative of - the best values and virtues of American society. With its production of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves in 1937, Disney enthralled American children with a cinematographic tradition of hyper-idealized versions of the American Dream, enshrining in its fantastic films the notions of good triumphing over evil, the rewarding of the noble and the punishment of the wicked and, most especially, love conquering all. Given their frequent basis in revered historical children’s literature (the works of Hans Christian Anderson, etc.), their grounding in “American” moral tradition, and their archetypal standing as mediums of highly colorful and enjoyable, yet politically innocuous children’s entertainment, the films of Walt Disney are, at first blush, everything a parent could want from the Third Educator – the American media. Recently, however, researchers have uncovered in these films a more complicated dynamic at work than these seemingly innocent stories would have one believe. Through the use of discourse analysis, researchers have exposed evidence of unequal power relationships, racist and sexist undertones, and the proscription of class, racial, and gender roles in even the simplest and most charming of these films. As “animated movies function as a crucial socializing force in the lives of children” (Pandey, 2), then, discourse analysis represents a powerful tool in its ability to identify the negative influences inherent in these films and their subsequent socialization of the American child into the “Disney” mindset. According to Gair, “discourse is inherently part of and influenced by the social structure in which it exists and its examination can reveal something of the ideological components of that structure” (83). As such, it becomes necessary to examine (briefly) the social structure of late 1930’s America and ideological components of society contained therein before one may begin a substantive analysis of the film itself. Joel Spring, author of The American School: 1642 – 2004, highlights the self-appointment of filmmakers as guardians of American national morality. In order to counteract the fears of those parents concerned over movies’ influence on their children, auditors within film companies exercised a code of self-censorship, designed by the National Board of Review, that “emphasized the importance of movies teaching moral lessons. These censors wanted movies to be uplifting by teaching the public moral lessons in a manner similar to that used by schools…[especially by] depicting good winning over evil” (348). Disney currently stands at the forefront of such moral validation in its films, a trend that began with its first feature-length animated film. In addition to conveying what was “good” in American society through its films, Disney movies – Snow White being no exception – are tellin.

1. Since its inception in the late 1920’s, the Walt Disney
Corporation has for many become synonymous with - and
demonstrative of - the best values and virtues of American
society. With its production of Snow White and the Seven
Dwarves in 1937, Disney enthralled American children with a
cinematographic tradition of hyper-idealized versions of the
American Dream, enshrining in its fantastic films the notions of
good triumphing over evil, the rewarding of the noble and the
punishment of the wicked and, most especially, love conquering
all. Given their frequent basis in revered historical children’s
literature (the works of Hans Christian Anderson, etc.), their
grounding in “American” moral tradition, and their archetypal
standing as mediums of highly colorful and enjoyable, yet
politically innocuous children’s entertainment, the films of Walt
Disney are, at first blush, everything a parent could want from
the Third Educator – the American media.
Recently, however, researchers have uncovered in these films a
more complicated dynamic at work than these seemingly
innocent stories would have one believe. Through the use of
discourse analysis, researchers have exposed evidence of
unequal power relationships, racist and sexist undertones, and
the proscription of class, racial, and gender roles in even the
simplest and most charming of these films. As “animated
movies function as a crucial socializing force in the lives of
children” (Pandey, 2), then, discourse analysis represents a
powerful tool in its ability to identify the negative influences
inherent in these films and their subsequent socialization of the
American child into the “Disney” mindset.
According to Gair, “discourse is inherently part of and

2. influenced by the social structure in which it exists and its
examination can reveal something of the ideological
components of that structure” (83). As such, it becomes
necessary to examine (briefly) the social structure of late 1930’s
America and ideological components of society contained
therein before one may begin a substantive analysis of the film
itself.
Joel Spring, author of The American School: 1642 – 2004,
highlights the self-appointment of filmmakers as guardians of
American national morality. In order to counteract the fears of
those parents concerned over movies’ influence on their
children, auditors within film companies exercised a code of
self-censorship, designed by the National Board of Review, that
“emphasized the importance of movies teaching moral lessons.
These censors wanted movies to be uplifting by teaching the
public moral lessons in a manner similar to that used by
schools…[especially by] depicting good winning over evil”
(348). Disney currently stands at the forefront of such moral
validation in its films, a trend that began with its first feature-
length animated film.
In addition to conveying what was “good” in American society
through its films, Disney movies – Snow White being no
exception – are telling indicators of what was historically
deemed one’s “proper” place in society. Early Disney films,
those produced during the primacy of the “social efficiency”
model of education in American schools, are particularly
illustrative of this leaning: from the 1920’s to the 1950’s,
Spring notes, the purpose of education was “not to promote
academic training, [but] to enable pupils by means of free, fair
and genial social intercourse, under the leadership of friendly
and large-spirited men and women, to obtain practice in real
life, to become socially and serviceably efficient” (247).

3. Of course, such “serviceability” translated into the socialization
of different individuals by both academia and society at large
into what were considered, at the time Snow White was made,
socially, economically, and sexually acceptable roles. Women
donned the role of the home economist, their lives structured
around the orderliness of the home and the provision of
adequate sustenance for their men and children. Those
supposedly less suited to academic pursuits were channeled into
the service industry via vocational training in the schools. Even
the ideal, white “look” of the American youth populace was
determined at this time by magazine, cosmetic, and even soft-
drink companies: “Advertising…provided national models for
white teenagers to emulate. Black, Native American and
Mexican American youth were not subjects of these early ad
campaigns” (Spring, 369).
Accounting for the particulars of the social and moral context in
which it was made, it is then possible to analyze Snow White
and the Seven Dwarves from a discursive standpoint against a
previously recognized exploratory framework, such as that
articulated by J. P. Gee; that is, (in this case) to consider Gee’s
concepts of “building” (on the level of the semiotic, world,
activity, identity/relationship, political, and connective) in
contextual research and apply them as necessary to an analysis
of the film.
From its very beginning, the film plays out from an archetypal
Anglo-centric viewpoint, conflating the qualities of goodness
and whiteness beginning with the Queen’s first query to her
enchanted mirror: “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who it the
fairest of them all.” Whiteness in the film achieves near-iconic
status from the start with its inclusion in the name of the film’s
titular heroine, as Snow White herself appears to the audience

4. as morally centered as humanity would allow: she is pure, the
conspicuously white doves surrounding her at the film’s
opening enhancing her image as virginal and chaste. She is
humble, cleaning the Dwarves’ home of her own volition and
requesting only that she be afforded shelter under their roof;
i.e.: “…if you let me stay, I’ll cook and clean for you.” She is
innocent, uncomprehending of the evil others would do to her
simply because of her appearance. She is pious, the tenor of her
bedside prayer to “[b]less the seven little men that have been so
kind to me” affording her an air of selflessness seeped in
Christian morality. Finally, she represents true love’s triumph
over seemingly insurmountable odds, both in her desire to find
that love (“I’m wishing for the one I love to find me”) and in
her realization of that desire at the film’s end.
The film’s equation of whiteness and Christian morality
continues with its extension of these concepts from physical
human characteristics to the very schema of the natural world.
From the gentle forest creatures that assist Snow White in her
trek to the Dwarves’ cottage, to the Dwarves themselves, to
Snow White and the Prince, all good-aligned characters and
animals are rendered in vibrant, primary colors – Snow White’s
yellow, white, and blue traveling garb and the Prince’s well-
heeled attire, for example – and soft, eye-pleasing pastels, such
as the feathering of the forest songbirds and the caps and tunics
of the Dwarves. In contrast, the Queen’s evil similarly extends
to her gloomy, cobweb-filled surroundings, her midnight-and-
purple robes, and the company she keeps with her crow and
vultures, themselves traditional harbingers of pestilence and
death.
On the semiotic level, language construction by the tall, regal
white-Anglo humanoids of the film immediately connotes their
advanced intelligence, particularly when contrasted with the
colloquial speech of the Dwarves. As members of the film’s

5. “ruling class” – they are, after all, citizens of the ubiquitous
Kingdom that claims dominion over the land around it – the
Queen, the Price, the Huntsman, and Snow White herself
implicitly elevate the significance of “Standard American
English” (Pandey, 3) over that of the Dwarves’ rural slang.
As the white-Anglo humanoids that populate Snow White’s
world use language to their advantage and empowerment, the
Dwarves meanwhile are perceptually hemmed in by language at
almost every turn. Examining the country-bumpkinish speech
with which they are endowed while keeping in mind Gee’s
identity/relationship paradigm, one identifies a subtle truth
inherent in the film: that the Dwarves’ diminutive stature is
indicative of their diminished intelligence and, subsequently,
their incapacity for “properly” articulating the English
language.
The use of verse in the speech and songs of the film’s
respective character classes further enhances their perceived
intelligence. Whereas the dwarves’ poetic inclinations tend
only toward simple repetition (“Hi-ho, hi-ho/It’s off to work we
go/[whistling]/Hi-ho, hi-ho, hi-ho, hi-ho), a complex and varied
interaction with the English language can be seen in the iambic
septameter of the Queen’s incantations (“Dip the apple in the
brew/Let the sleeping death seep through”; “A blast of wind to
fan my hate/A thunderbolt to mix it well/Now begins my magic
spell”), etc., as well as in the artful tête-à-tête between Snow
White and the Prince in their duet at the film’s beginning.
In addition to their linguistic authority, Snow White’s
prototypical Anglo-American characters are granted both
situational and technological superiority with respect to the
Dwarves. Whereas the latter live communally and far from
“civilized” society in a thatched-roof cottage reminiscent of
traditional farmsteads (possibly indicative of “primitive,”
Appalachian-style societies), their placement in the natural

6. setting of the forest tacitly indicative of their inability to exist
in a more “refined” setting, the film’s human characters are
endowed with social individualism and therefore social efficacy
(the Huntsman’s employment in the Queen’s service
notwithstanding) by their inclusion in the urbane Kingdom. The
divide between these groups’ academic versus vocational utility
in the film’s technological landscape is further confirmed in the
Queen’s access to books (conspicuously absent in the Dwarves’
household) and her applied knowledge of chemistry when
concocting her spells, in contrast to the Dwarves’ sole
profession of hand-mining gems directly from the earth,
signifying their culture of manual labor.
The stratifying power of language, as constructed by the film’s
creators, is even present and at work on several levels within
the Dwarven community itself. For instance, with Snow
White’s guessing of their names constituting their formal
introduction to the audience, each Dwarf loses some measure of
personal efficacy; in denying the Dwarves the opportunity to
name themselves, Snow White inadvertently disables them from
asserting original claims to their own identities.
The Dwarves’ characterizations are furthermore negatively
construed on a socio-cultural level in relation to the identities
they are allowed. While the names of “the Queen,” “the
Prince,” and “Snow White” conjure up a multitude of cultural
assumptions in the minds of the film’s target audience regarding
what these characters “should be,” the Dwarves’ naming by
Snow White’s creators (per Gee’s “world building” schema)
reduces their identities to one-dimensional adjectival
caricatures. Only Doc is permitted some degree of
sophistication by virtue of his name, which subsequently
translates into his authority over the group as a whole.
Such linguistic marginalization is particularly apparent in film’s

7. portrayal of Dopey, who conspicuously lacks a physical voice.
Much like Snow White’s assumption of power over the Dwarves
in her naming of them, Doc, as his group’s alpha male, takes on
the responsibility of speaking for Dopey: “This is Dopey,
ma’am. He don’t talk none…he never tried.” Given that
Dopey’s general demeanor in the film – tongue constantly
hanging out of his mouth, his placing of large gems in his eyes
in the hope that the refraction of his pupils will attract
attention, etc. – is indicative of severe immaturity at best and
mental retardation at worst, his implicit silencing by the film’s
creators through his fellow Dwarves is telling. Observing the
disproportional amount of abuse he receives at the hands of his
comrades, as exemplified by the forcing of soap into his mouth
during the Dwarves’ bathing scene and his election as point man
for flushing out the “ghost” (Snow White) in their bedroom,
Gee would claim that his activities construct the mentally
handicapped as completely dependant on their wards for their
linguistic and social empowerment, as well as sources of
amusement to the general public because of that same
dependence.
Just as Snow White confirms both the linguistic superiority and
social authority of prototypical white-Anglo Americans through
the film’s characters, it reinforces the gender roles of those
individuals as they existed in the 1930’s socio-cultural milieu:
the male Dwarves are the breadwinners of their household, their
gemological profits stemming directly from their daily
employment. In fact, the Dwarves’ mining represents the only
real instance of non-household work in the film, again
excepting the Huntsman’s errand for the Queen. Snow White,
as a woman, keeps house for the Dwarves, seeing that each is
clean and well fed and therefore better able to undertake their
worldly endeavors. While Snow White assumes the traditional
role of housewife in this sense, she also functions as their
surrogate mother in her exhortations to them regarding industry
and personal cleanliness: “Go straight outside and wash, or

8. you’ll not get a bite to eat.”
Though one might praise Snow White as a woman for her ability
to control not one, but several men in this instance, such praise
dims in light of the fact that her situation is defined by those
very men over which she supposedly holds sway; without the
Dwarves to provide Snow White with any sort of “meaningful”
preoccupation, her social utility in the film depreciates
significantly. Notable also in Snow White is that true female
independence, as personified by the Queen, is punished in the
film’s constant reinforcement of her as a negative character, to
say nothing of her eventual death. Considering that a man (the
Prince) is required in order to break Snow White’s enchanted
sleep, and presumably that in living “happily ever after” with
the Prince she becomes Princess (and only then by virtue of his
political ties), one comprehends feminine efficacy in general as
the film’s real “fairy tale.”
There is a small, yet significant moment in Snow White that
reveals much about the regard in which the film’s creators and
American society at large held individuals not of white-Anglo
descent: during the dance scene in the Dwarves’ cottage, Dopey
loses one of the cymbals he had been playing. Looking to Snow
White for his prompt, he holds out his remaining cymbal to her,
which she gives a playful kick. The cymbal flips through the
air to land concave-side down over Dopey’s head. Dopey,
already laden with the pejorative connotations of his namesake,
crosses his eyes, laces his hands at chest level, and does his best
coolie impression while dancing out of the frame.
No doubt the film’s producers intended Dopey’s “Asian
moment” to be comical to its audiences. However, when viewed
from an analytic standpoint, such ethnically-motivated humor
proves severely damaging to the socio-cultural fabric of society:

9. in socializing children, however subtly, to negatively perceive
individuals of a particular race, gender, or socio-linguistic
heritage through those individuals social and linguistic
marginalization, Disney, through its films, reproduces and
reinforces that same marginalization in society at large. In turn,
the societal stereotyping of these individuals informs the
content of popular media and so on.
It is incumbent on educational researchers and advocates of
critical media literacy, therefore, to expose such marginalizing
influences in films like Snow White and the Severn Dwarves for
what they are to the general public and, by so doing, teach
parents and children alike to identify and deconstruct these
influences for themselves. By understanding the social contexts
in which these films are made, and by advocating the
introduction of diverse social, linguistic, ethnic, and gender-
based traditions in powerful contexts in such films, the
American family for which these films are made may effect
such progression in them, and by extension in society as a
whole, that future generations of Disney characters may truly
and universally live “happily ever after.”
APPENDIX
A professional discourse analysis of any given work, while
intellectually sound from the point of view of the researcher,
means little without the perspective of the target audience for
whom the work was produced. Below are the findings of an
interview between Liliana Singh and her niece Lainey (six years
of age) as they relate to Lainey’s interpretation of the film,
findings which largely support the claims made by this research:
Lainey is a six years old girl that watches very little TV. She
comes from a family that doesn’t encourage watching TV;
rather they constantly read books to her. Lainey was raised

10. with independent thinking and was encouraged to make her own
interpretations on the books that were read to her.
Lainey viewed the Queen’s jealousy of Snow White being the
“fairest in the land,” as a threat to the queen: “The Queen is bad
because she wants to kill Snow White and that is because she
wants to be the fairest in the land.” The whole concept of being
“fair” is of interest to both the Disney story and to Lainey.
A high value was placed on fair (pale) skin during the time in
which the original Snow White was written. Lainey said,
“Snow White is so beautiful, Snow White is white like the snow
with cheeks and lips red as apples.” Thus to Lainey, being the
fairest means not only being pale in color but also being
beautiful. Conversely, she viewed the color black as a bad sign
in the movie: “The vultures are bad because they are black,
black is a bad color. Black is spooky like black cats.” Lainey
even said “I think that black is a bad sign in this movie.”
Later in the story when the Seven Dwarves came home and
noticed that someone had entered their cottage, Lainey
remarked of their sending Dopey on the mission to find out who
that someone was: “They sent him to find out who was sleeping
in the room because he was the least scared one out of all of
them. That’s probably because he doesn’t know any better.” The
movie gave the impression that Dopey is clueless in making him
cross eyed and bald. Lainey liked Dopey the most stating, “ He
acts and looks funny, silly and he can’t talk,” and she also
stated “He can’t talk because he never tried.” Moving on to
Grumpy, she stated, “He doesn’t like women because he was
trying to convince the other Dwarves why they should not let
Snow White stay with them, and Grumpy said all women are
‘Crazy Wicked Wails’.”
Lainey asked, “Why is Snow White treating the Dwarves like

11. kids as if she is their mother?” Then, answering her own
question, “The Dwarves are older than Snow White, but maybe
because they are smaller in size she treats them like kids, even
though they are older than her.”
At one point, Lainey noticed that “The Dwarves are little men,
and they spend a lot of time working,” supporting the research
statements above on the domestic duties of women at the time.
Lainey went on to say that “Snow White is just a teenager. She
doesn’t work she stays at home to clean and cook. She is like
their mother. It’s a hard job for her (a female) to work digging
in the mountains, she can’t do that kind of job because she’s a
girl, and it is a man’s job.”
After Snow White ate the poisoned apple it began to rain and
thunder. Lainey then stated, “The Queen will never be a queen
again. She was going to stay looking like a witch forever
because she killed Snow White.” This quote suggests that the
gloom and dark of the rain and the rambunctious clashing of the
thunder would signify bad things to come and a possible ‘bad
ending’ for the Queen.
When asked what Lainey learned from the movie, she stated “If
someone dies, and they really put a potion on somebody, they
can really live. Her true love [Prince] kissed her and that’s what
made her come back to life. She went with him and lived
happily ever after.” Observing this statement in context, it is
apparent how a relatively independent child may even fall into a
“Disney” state of mind without even being aware of it.
2

12. The Matrix: An Ideological Analysis
by David A. Edwards
Introduction
Ideological analyses of texts traditionally concentrate on
locating ideology in its sense of “the system of ideas at the
basis of an economic or political theory”[1]. However the word
can also mean “visionary speculation”, or literally, “the science
of ideas”[2]. Science fiction, as an artform based around the
exploration of ideas, is therefore inherently ideologically
based. Science fiction, as opposed to fantasy, extrapolates from
existing political, social, or technological trends to understand
their implications or logical conclusions. In doing so, sf
discovers and exposes the ideologies behind the trends. At the
same time, being a work of art, and therefore qualitative and
subjective, a science fiction text carries its own ideological
agendas. Thus, examples of the genre are doubly suitable for
ideological analysis.
At least within the mainstream, sf films have traditionally been
less thorough in their exploration of ideas than their literary
counterparts. Books allow for more detailed, systematic, and
discursive presentation of their contents than can be easily
achieved with film. They are also far less restricted by their
means of production. Sf filmsplace a high emphasis on visual
spectacle, and are generally closer in their content to other
genres such as comedy, horror, or action, with sf trappings. The
death in 1999 of Stanley Kubrick has deprived the filmgoing
world of his proposed next film, a science fiction epic
called AI, which might have helped restore to the genre the
possibilities opened up by the auterist strengths of 2001 and A
Clockwork Orange. As it stands, mainstream sf film represents
a triumph of style over substance, reaching a nadir in The
Phantom Menace.

13. Into this milieu comes The Matrix, a film which, fittingly for
the year 1999, seems to offer a summary of mainstream action
and sf filmmaking, and culture in general, at the end of the 20th
century. Much of The Matrix resonates with, and is probably
influenced by, postmodernist theory, but it is first and foremost
a mainstream action film. Its mainstream popularity means that
it is well placed to reflect the popular culture of its time.
Though little of The Matrix’s content covers new ground for sf,
the film is extremely full of ideas and semiotic meanings.
However few of its ideas are developed in depth, and indeed
many are presented in a casual or throwaway manner. But this
is appropriate given the information-overload of postmodern
media and society, which The Matrix reflects. For this reason,
to analyse The Matrix in depth may be to miss the point. The
reference to the last human city of Zion, for example, does not
necessarily mean that the film is intended as a religious parable,
only that that interpretation is possible. And the strong
characterisation of Trinity is not a major feminist statement -
not twenty years after sf heroines Princess Leia and Ellen
Ripley.
When the main character Neo takes the pill to awaken him to
reality, he touches a mirror, which then becomes fluid and
spreads all over him. The Matrix itself is a mirror, greatly
concerned with surfaces and appearances, with little to confirm
or deny any opinions held about it. Like Alice disappearing
down the rabbit hole - a parallel explicitly drawn more than
once - the camera then heads into Neo’s screaming mouth, and
right down his throat, suggesting in keeping with later plot
developments that the world and its meanings are contained
within the individual. This same shot, using what I presume to
be footage from an endoscopy procedure, was also used in star
Keanu Reeves’ previous film Devil’s Advocate, which is only
one of many intertextual references in The Matrix. This leads
us to the first of the major thematic concerns which I will
discuss.

14. Part 1: Nothing is True
Media Satire
The device of the Matrix as a distraction to prevent the people
from discovering their actual cattle-like existence is a
contemporary illustration of Karl Marx’s original conception of
ideology. Various 20th century thinkers, such as Theodor
Adorno and the Frankfurt School, Jean Baudrillard, and Louis
Althusser have criticised the promotion of ideology through
media. Situationist critic Guy Debord termed the situation “The
society of the spectacle”[3]. The use of ideology as a
smokescreen is not a new one in science fiction, and often crops
up in dystopian sf such as 1984, Brave New
World, or Rollerball.
The Matrix is partly an allegory for modern interactive
technologies such as the internet - whereas earlier sf dealing
with entertainment or ideology as social controls usually
presented the audience as passive receivers. In another popular
film of 1999, David Fincher’s Fight Club, resistance is against
the numerous forms of ideological dissemination, hence the
bombing of a computer store or the insertion of pornography
into film footage. However virtual reality technologies are
interactive, so the major struggle in The Matrix takes
place within the ideological apparatus of the Matrix, rather than
trying to alter or destroy it from outside. But as a film, an
artform lacking direct audience participation, The Matrix makes
extensive reference to movie cliches, from the opening rooftop
chase recalling Hitchcock’s Vertigo, through various kung-fu
and action films, and based on a traditional hero’s quest story
structure.
As a mainstream action film, whatever plot or character
developments exist have secondary importance to the action
scenes. Acknowledging this, and with the virtual reality plot
device to justify it, the directors take the action scenes to
absurd extremes, and in doing so simultaneously satirise and

15. celebrate the action genre. The Matrix sits alongside such films
as Forrest Gump, Last Action Hero, Starship Troopers, and The
Fifth Element, in its knowing play with cinematic cliche. This
approach is signalled even before the start of the film, with the
Warner Bros logo customised in dark green on a stormy
background. The fact that what appears to be the year 1999 is
actually an unspecified date in the 22nd century is an amusing
deflation of pre-millennial self-obsession and apocalyptic
worry.
Among the films and genres paid tribute to in The Matrix are
James Cameron’s seminal sf/action Terminator series. Arnold
Schwarzenegger’s remorseless killer who stole the show despite
an odd accent and a lack of acting technique is referenced in the
choice of Australian actor Hugo Weaving to play Agent Smith,
gleefully hamming it up with an awkward American accent.
The characters’ preference for dark glasses and leather clothes
also recall the Terminator films, especially the shot of Smith
glaring at Neo through one broken lens.
The referencing of other films in The Matrix gives it the
opportunity to take on and reinforce or subvert their various
ideological components. The finger-twitching High Noon shot
in the subway, complete with non-diegetic rattlesnake sound,
not only denotes a western showdown but has all its
connotations of masculinity, a confrontation which only one
will survive, a test of skill, law vs outlaw etc. At the same time
it is ironic, and means precisely none of these things, because it
is all only a simulation within a simulation.
To take another example, the scene where Neo appears with a
minigun from a hovering helicopter clearly sends up the phallic
symbolism of guns in action films (and the gun is framed to
point diagonally upwards) by blatantly playing to the audience
expectations, with the purpose of revealing them. Neo gives
Smith the finger early on, ineffectually. Later, the helicopter
flying alongside the building, and Neo emerging with a minigun
clearly recalls Schwarzenneger in Terminator 2 (“It’s definitely

16. you” says John Connor with a grin in that film). The ineffective
phallic finger has become the effective minigun. An opposite
approach to the same goal was taken in Men In Black with the
tiny but devastating Noisy Cricket gun, while The Fifth
Element went deliberately overboard with Zorg’s combination
machine-gun/flamethrower/rocket/net/dart-launcher. Fight
Clubeven inverted the symbolism by using the phallus itself to
represent an offensive gesture.
The fight scenes of The Matrix are executed in an anti-realistic
manner, not only in the impossible moves and artful direction,
but in the near-bloodless wounds, and the way the extras are
instantly felled. The scenes do not portray violence itself, but
rather portray violence as it is portrayed in action films. The
choreography and use of music even carry a hint of A
Clockwork Orange.
In this case the subject matter is treated with irony, as shown in
the shot of the devastated building lobby, or the hundreds of
bullet cartridges falling from the helicopter. Both shots
indicate excess, in a way that is both mocking and gleeful. The
Matrix is constantly drawing attention to its own unreality, and
indeed this is the very subject matter of the film. The
indulgently ironic facial expressions of Neo and Morpheus in
the training program attest to this. There is even a shot in the
loading program where Morpheus is providing plot information,
and directly addresses the camera.
The combination of excessiveness and cinematic references
reflect the postmodern western condition of media stimulation,
which Baudrillard called the hyperreal[4]. With high-budget
special effects-driven films constantly trying to outdo each
other, The Matrix represents both a continuation and a critique
of this trend. The Matrix wants to have its cake and eat it too,
as does Cypher (meaning secret, or zero), the Judas figure in the
film, who wants to be rewarded for betrayal and not feel guilt as
the original Judas did. When Cypher says “I want to be

17. someone important - like an actor”, this is a clear indication of
the importance placed on image in (postmodern western)
society.
The Matrix has intriguing synchronicities between its form and
its content, down to the choice of soundtrack music by bands
with names matching the themes of the film - such as Massive
Attack, The Prodigy, and Rage Against the Machine. Another
major synchronicity is between the use of computer special
effects to achieve the impossible both on screen and in the
story. The boundaries between the film and the real world,
between fantasy and reality, begin to blur. Or, as Professor
O’Blivion puts it in David
Cronenberg’s Videodrome, “Television is reality, and reality is
less than television”.
Virtual Reality
The story of The Matrix is set on two levels, the simulated and
the real. The two levels are used in a straightforward way to
create a binary opposition by which they can be compared and
contrasted. This is done in various ways from the subliminal,
such as the shallow focus blurring what is outside the car
windows, to the obvious. The scene where Cypher meets Agent
Smith in (a simulation of) a restaurant (with a warm orange
colour balance) is immediately followed by the crew of the ship
eating their tasteless daily gruel. Visually the scenes inside the
Matrix have a greenish colour balance, reminiscent of a
monochrome computer screen, whereas the scenes inside
Morpheus’s ship are shown in cold blues, suggesting
discomfort.
This binary approach contrasts with, for example, David
Cronenberg’s concurrently released eXistenZ, with its final plot
twist that having emerged from the game, reality may in fact be
only another simulation - while in Videodrome, reality and
fantasy blur to the extent where they cannot be told apart. The

18. approach of The Matrix is less enigmatic, though Neo starting
off as a computer hacker has a hint of eXistenZ’s Russian-doll
approach. Also, the fact that a character killed in the Matrix
dies in real life (the approach taken in William Gibson’s
seminal cyberpunk novelNeuromancer) gives the two levels an
interdependence.
This interdependence suggests the pagan proverb “as above, so
below”; paganism being alluded to in the theme of
transcendence, discussed below. It also puts the casual
slaughter of numerous security staff into ideological territory no
less murky for its not being real. The arguments over the merits
and possible effects of film violence are too detailed to discuss
here, but it is interesting in this context to note feminist critic
Camille Paglia’s opinion that “all screen violence ultimately has
to do with a kind of religious ritual - a pagan contemplation - of
those forces that are out there”[5].
The reality/fantasy split is brought up early in the film when
Agent Smith observes the double life lived by
Anderson/Neo. The Matrix can be read as an allegory of how
people project and play roles to the world. The assumption of a
hacker’s alias which then becomes more real than the given
name – Neo’s anger at being called “Mr Anderson” saves him
from being hit by a train – is a role reversal in keeping with the
transcendence discussed in the next section. Like Zion, the
name of the unseen last human city, the characters’ names give
a mythical dimension to the story in a throwaway manner – Neo
(ie new man, also an anagram of “one”), Morpheus (god of
dreams), Trinity (holy trinity) etc, contrast with repression
personified as Smith, the most ordinary-sounding English
name. Meanwhile the word “matrix” has multiple meanings,
including “a mould”, “a gridlike array of interconnected circuit
elements”, and intriguingly “a womb”[6].
Part 2: Everything is Permitted

19. Superheroes
The story of humankind, whether on individual or collective
levels, can be represented (ideally/supposedly) as one of growth
and development. A lot of sf, such as 2001: A Space Odyssey,
Blade Runner, The Lawnmower Man, or Star Wars, develops
this theme. The 19th century philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche
articulated the idea that “man is something to be overcome”[7].
Evolution to a higher state of being, which he called the
Superman – later the name of a well-known comic book heroto
whom The Matrix pays explicit tribute in it’s last shot – was the
ultimate goal.
It is significant that The Matrix does not end with the overthrow
of the machines, but on an enigmatic (if triumphant) note. The
film chronicles the birth of a superhero. And like Clarke
Kent/Superman or Bruce Wayne/Batman, Thomas Anderson/Neo
has a double identity and life, as Smith observes early in the
film. This dual existence is appropriate as it is also a direct
reflection of the way people can assume alter egos through the
internet, and indeed Neo’s transformation is little more than an
improvement of his computer hacking skills. The fetishisation
of telephones in The Matrix is a tribute to both Superman and
Marshall McLuhan.
The figure of the superhero seems to be an American invention.
Like the cowboy or the detective, the superhero is a loner, and
reflects supposedly American values of rugged independence
and self-determination. In one simulation program Morpheus
and Neo are shown walking upstream against heavy pedestrian
traffic. The Matrix ends with Neo achieving super-powers, but
overthrowing the machines that have taken over the world does
not even appear to be on the agenda. Rather, the ideology
promoted by The Matrix is one of individual liberty within a
society, not radical social transformation.
By contrast, though they too have superhuman powers, the
agents represent order or stasis. This is signalled by their

20. identical dress, personifying them as those modern-day
hobgoblins, the men-in-black, and by the symmetrical camera
framing they are often given, for example when they enter the
office to look for Neo. Agent Smith’s hatred of the Matrix
represents nihilism, the polar opposite of Neo’s transcendence.
The film’s presentation of the Matrix as equivalent to an
ideological smokescreen, has a strong ring of Marxism about it.
However Smith’s statement that the original Matrix was a
perfect world “where everyone would be happy” (ie a socialist
utopia), but that this proved unworkable as people did not
believe in it, seems downright reactionary in its suggestion that
harmonious cooperation is against human nature. If a political
philosophy is being espoused in The Matrix, it is closer to
libertarianism than Marxism or the technological paranoia
attributed to the Luddites.
An enigma of The Matrix is the suggestion that the Matrix may
actually be preferable to the real world, which is in any case
horribly polluted. Cypher decides, and so perhaps does Neo,
that the ersatz but limitless possibilities of fantasy are
preferable to a harsh and banal reality. The attractions of the
Matrix are escapism, and that one can have higher goals than
mere survival. In William Gibson’s Neuromancer, jacking into
cyberspace is literally addictive.
Although they keep them as “crops” in Smith’s word, the
machines do look after the people, feeding them and providing
at least the illusion of a life. At the beginning, Smith has given
orders to the police, for their own protection, not to approach
Trinity. Neo and Trinity on the other hand casually kill many
police as obstacles. This is the moral dark side of the film’s
radical individualism. And Smith’s assertion that “humans are
a virus” goes unchallenged. The Matrix offers a somewhat
more ambiguous exploration of human vs machine conflict than
the genocidal war of theTerminator films.

21. The journey to the superheroic state follows the ancient story
outline of the hero’s quest, with mystical overtones that owe a
lot to Star Wars. When Morpheus says to Neo “Stop trying to
hit me, and hit me”, this sounds a lot like Yoda’s admonishment
to Luke Skywalker “Do or do not; there is no try�.
Like Star Wars, The Matrix dresses up ancient myth in
(post)modern clothes. Morpheus’s offering Neo a drug to
awaken to reality represents ancient shamanism via modern
psychedelia, while the shot of each pill reflected in one lens of
Morpheus’s glasses makes literal the mystical idea of left and
right hand paths. Neo then sees the mirror warping, which has
strong psychedelic connotations. The visit to the Oracle, a
domestic scene with suggestions of a doctor’s surgery,
demonstrates clearly the mythical within the mundane - while
the line about getting one of the kids to fix the broken vase
humorously suggests the reverse.
High technology, mystical transcendence and heroic journeys,
and the mundane all meet up in The Matrix. Trinity’s anti-bug
device plugs into the car cigarette lighter, while telephones are
literally portals to another world. On the other hand, the
interior of Morpheus’s ship is dingy, with elderly fittings and
seats missing stuffing. The aesthetic ideology of The
Matrix could be described as “TechGnosis” - a word invented
by writer Erik Davis for the title of his book on the mystical
underpinnings of modern technology and culture[8] - while the
transformation to superhero occurs through”direct individual
experience of gnosis - a mystical influx of self-knowledge with
strong Platonic overtones”[9].
The Reshaping of Reality
As discussed in the section on Virtual Reality, the plot device
of the Matrix as “an interactive computer simulation” is not
merely analogous to modern interactive media, particularly the
internet and computer games, but an extrapolation from them.

22. One major feature of sf and fantasy fiction is that the genres are
not merely concerned with telling stories, but with creating
worlds for them to take place in. As well as inventing
characters and narrative, the environment is constructed, often
meticulously (extreme examples include Star Trek or the work
of JRR Tolkein which come complete with detailed invented
languages, cultures, and physical laws) to give meaning to the
action. Through the VR device, The Matrix makes this world-
building its actual subject matter. The irony in The Matrix is
that the real world is strange and terrifying while the fantasy
landscape is banal.
Although The Matrix presents an elitist view with a sharp
division between the superhuman (in the Matrix) heroes and
agents on one hand and the duped masses on the other, the film
reflects both the fear and horror of, and the utopian possibilities
attributed to, all technology - both of which stem from making
human labour unnecessary.
In sf writer Arthur C. Clarke’s words, “any sufficiently
advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic”. In the
physical world technology has given humans the power to
transcend our own physical limitations and travel fast,
communicate across long distance, lift heavy loads, have
infallible memory and so on. In cyberspace there are no
physical limitations, so tools are not needed. The agents can
reprogram the Matrix so that there just happens to be a brick
wall over a building exit. Likewise, skills can be quickly
downloaded rather than learned over years (the computer screen
even lists “drunken boxing” among the fighting styles being
loaded into Neo). When Neo asks for “guns - lots of guns”,
they are available instantly without having to go to the trouble
of making or buying them. Presumably the next step is for the
superhero to not need guns at all, and kill enemies simply
through willpower and imagination, as he eventually does Agent
Smith.
The Matrix is far from unique in dealing with VR or with

23. realities that are mutable for whatever reason. Australian sf
writer Greg Egan in Permutation City and Diaspora presents life
for human minds as sentient programs inside a computer as
attractive, due to the power of being able to alter one’s
surroundings at will and to escape the physical - and
psychological - limits of having a real body in a real
environment. Elsewhere, devices such as time travel are used to
rewrite reality, as seen in the Back to the
Future or Terminator films. Groundhog Day makes its point by
presenting different possibilities for action within repeated
scenarios as multiple takes of a film scene.
The film Virtuosity combines VR with time travel in a scene
where Russell Crowe’s villain Sid is killed, and then resurrected
as a computer program and the fight scene replayed to make him
think he has won, and reveal the location of his hostage. The
Matrix by contrast has a linear storyline that seems at odds with
the reshaping reality theme. Neo says that he dislikes the idea
of fate because he wants to be in control of his own life, and it
is self-control which allows him to transcend the limitations of
the Matrix and become superhuman. However he is able to
achieve all this because he is “the one” and is as such merely
fulfilling a prophecy. Cypher being prevented from killing the
heroes, and Neo being rescued by Trinity’s love are also fated.
This suggests that free will is an illusion after all.
That the characters are acting out some kind of divine plan is
not so much a theological message as a formulaic script. If
there is a God in The Matrix, it is Hollywood script-writing.
However it is possible that the presentation, and so unsubtly, of
fate as inevitable means ironically the opposite of what it
appears to - in other words that because it seems inevitable, fate
could be transcended, the way gravity is. But this is outside the
scope of the film. The limitations of the conventional narrative
make the film structure inherently unsuitable for a serious
exploration of what a world without rules could be like.
Neo’s pronouncement at the end that he will show these people
a world without limitations or boundaries echoes the utopian

24. visions of supporters of the internet, which as a decentralised,
democratic, and participatory medium seems to offer the
opportunity to transcend national or other boundaries and allow
open exchange of ideas. The Matrix suggests that this freedom
must be fought for - but then it has to or there would be nothing
on which to base a storyline (no good guys and bad guys). A
film without conflict where reality is changeable at will would
belong in the realm of the avant-garde, not that of action
blockbusters.
Conclusion
The ideology of The Matrix could be summarised as “nothing is
true; everything is permitted”[10]. This applies not only to the
characters within the story, but to the possibilities for
filmmaking opened up by modern special effects. The July
1999 Sight and Sound editorial makes reference to The
Matrix, noting its violence and its technical impressiveness. It
then points out that “What this digital facility does is to rip up
much of the rule book of classical film-making... It’s this sense
more than any other that seems to have paralysed proponents of
what we might call the humanist auteur tradition - the tradition
most likely to contrast with the current nihilism”.
The limitless possibilities suggested by The Matrix ironically
serve to reinforce that it is still confined to a two-dimensional
non-interactive movie screen. The film comes across as
ultimately escapist in nature, only emphasised by Morpheus’s
continual reminders that “I can only show you the door; you
have to walk through it”. However, as the Sight and
Sound review of the film concludes, “It seems clear that the
Wachowskis have discovered a gleeful utopia of their own”.
Bibliography
Sight and Sound, July 1999.

25. TechGnosis: Myth, Magic and Mysticism in the Age of
Information by Erik Davis. Serpent’s Tail, 1998.
Screen Violence edited by Karl French. Bloomsbury
Publishing, 1996.
Alien Zone: Cultural Theory and Contemporary Science
Fiction edited by Annette Kuhn. Verso, 1990.
BFI Modern Classics: The Terminator by Sean French.
British Film Institute, 1996.
BFI Modern Classics: Blade Runner by Scott Bukatman.
British Film Institute, 1997.
Hamlet on the Holodeck: The Future of Narrative in
Cyberspace by Janet H. Murray. The Free Press, 1997.
Reality Isn’t What it Used To Be by Walter Truett
Anderson. HarperCollins, 1990.
Science Fiction Studies in Film by Frederik Pohl. Ace,
1981.
Neuromancer by William Gibson (fiction). Voyager,
1985.
Permutation City by Greg Egan (fiction). Millennium,
1994.
[1]The Concise Oxford Dictionary, Ninth Edition. Edited by
Della Thompson. Clarendon Press, 1995
[2] ibid
[3]The Society of the Spectacle, 1967. Cited in TechGnosis:
Myth, Magic + Mysticism in the Age of Information by Erik
Davis. Serpent’s Tail, 1998.
[4]Simulations, 1983. Cited in Davis.
[5] Camille Paglia interviewed by Karl French in Screen
Violence. Edited by Karl French. Bloomsbury 1996.
[6]The Concise Oxford Dictionary, Ninth Edition. Edited by
Della Thompson. Clarendon Press, 1995
[7] From Thus Spake Zarathustra, 1885. English translation by
R.J Hollingdale. Penguin Books, 1961.
[8]TechGnosis: Myth, Magic + Mysticism in the Age of

26. Information by Erik Davis. Serpent’s Tail, 1998.
[9] ibid
[10] Supposedly the last words of 11th century mystic Hassan i
Sabbah. Popularised by late 20th century writers such as Robert
Anton Wilson (TheIlluminatus Trilogy) and William S.
Burroughs (Naked Lunch).