"Mr. Thomas J. Anderson is not unique. Over the decades, many humans have developed... techniques for manipulating the Matrix. Techniques too primitive for us to understand. Most never realize their potential, but all the ones we've noticed exhibiting these talents are recorded here."
ANGLE ON the book as BROWN flips through. Street shots of people from all walks of life. Young rebels, corporate suits, junkies, housewives.
JONES turns on AGENT BROWN.
"Do you have anyone in mind?"
ANGLE ON the book. It stops on a page dedicated to someone who looks like NEO, but with long hair and an extremely bad attitude. There are photos of him on a motorcycle with a blonde, photos of him drinking with his gang friends.
"Gregory Lowfield. He exhibits the traits we saw in Mr. Anderson."
MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
"Mr. Anderson no longer exists. Our enemy now is the one called... NEO."
ANGLE ON: THE DOOR
AGENT SMITH walks in, grinning. There is a new swag to his walk, and his hair is longer, tied back.
"You've been recreated."
SMITH flexes his arm, examines his hands, and feels his hair.
"And you have more hair."
SMITH turns to him, examines the photos on the table. They lock eyes. On the same wavelength, they transfer knowledge without speaking. SMITH looks at the photo on the table.
"I know what you're thinking. What we need is our own Neo..."
"If it's possible."
"I'll make it possible."
WE ZOOM in on the grainy photo of NEO's doppledanger. Quiet at first, growing louder as it grows dark, we here the rumble and roar of motorcycles.
EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY (NIGHT)
FAR OFF in the distance, the glow of motorcycle headlights racing toward us. As we zoom out and focus in, they are already too close to avoid. They rip by us, thundering explosions and men and women cheering.
THE pack of about ten bikers and their women don't wear helmets. They fly down the highway using both lanes, drinking and driving with total abandon.
ANGLE ON the lead motorcycle, a massive, custom-made Harley. GREGORY LOWFIELD, Thomas J. Anderson without a desk job, without cares, revs his bike and locks the accelerator. He hands his beer to the blonde who rides behind him, then, in one swift motion, jumps up on his seat, leaning into the slipstream.
The feat is IMPOSSIBLE.
All material from the Matrix movie: Copyright © 1999 Warner Brothers All Rights Reserved.
The Matrix, Reloaded, The Matrix Revolutions and all related media, characters, and stories are Copyright © 1999-2007 AOL Time Warner and Village Roadshow Pictures.
© 2001-2008 N. Franken
For all Matrix Movie Transcripts: The Matrix, Reloaded, Revolutions,
Original Matrix Script and the Reloaded-Revolutions Shadow Script