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It might be self-serving of us to suggest they publicize their films, and in a way, we empathize with their reclusion; Larry Wachowski has been the subject of sex-change and dominatrix-dating speculation since a feminized version of himself — earrings, plucked eyebrows, manicure — showed up on the Matrix Revolutions red carpet in Cannes five years ago with mistress Ilsa Strix (née Karen Winslow) on his arm. The siblings later sneaked into the New York premiere of V For Vendetta (which they wrote and co-produced), and last week in Los Angeles they went positively presidential with subterfuge at the debut of Speed Racer. "They did not do the red-carpet press line at the Nokia Theatre on Saturday, and were well-camouflaged during the after-party," wrote Borys Kit in The Hollywood Reporter. "Photographers were sworn to secrecy as to their whereabouts, and Warner Bros. assigned handlers the mission of keeping journalists off the scent."

Like it matters; the Wachowskis haven't granted an interview in the decade since The Matrix, deferring to mega-producer and de facto representative Joel Silver and their casts to flog their work publicly. Their crews sign non-disclosure agreements. The duo's contracts entitle them to a luxury rarer than final cut — an opt-out provision shielding them from the promotion of their films. It's Stanley Kubrick/Terrence Malick/Eric Rohmer stuff, but with one crucial exception: Their films aren't that good.

Or at least they haven't been in nearly 10 years; Speed Racer is no different. But what is good about it are the things to which only they can speak — the practice of reinventing the source cartoon, the relationship of vision to execution, the extraordinary scene transitions eschewing cuts for something closer to a scrolling-head montage (like "bullet-time," you just have to see it), or, on the most basic of levels, directing a standout cast (and even a goddamned monkey) against one green-screen backdrop after another. Unlike Iron Man or Warners' even more anticipated summer offering The Dark Knight, the brands work in concert with personalities to acquire traction. Emile Hirsch's abstract praises are not enough.

Warner Bros. faced the similar scenario with Kubrick for nearly three decades, covering the director's final five films from A Clockwork Orange through Eyes Wide Shut. Obviously, his death in March 1999 put a pretty irrevocable kibosh on promoting the latter film, but he did speak out from time to time about the intervening work; his daughter Vivian's behind-the-scenes documentary about The Shining was a broadcast TV event in 1980, and he did a few select interviews in 1987 on behalf of Full Metal Jacket. Moreover, he was always involved with people — actors, writers, other filmmakers — and his 15 years of work prior to his British exile in the late '60s had installed him permanently among the world cinema vanguard.

Not so for the Wachowskis, a couple of ex-carpenters from Chicago whose one-two dynamos Bound and The Matrix boosted expectations from 1996 to 1999. Their work since has lapsed into the type of indulgence that further evokes itself in those clauses guaranteeing their immunity to press, and by extension, their audience. That audience has had nothing to latch onto for too long now; no taut narratives, no singular parallel universes and certainly no visual benchmarks that can and/or should speak for themselves. Their self-containment borders on alienating, their aloofness sharing breath with its conjoined twin, arrogance.

As the most public recluses working today (and at the highest budgets), their godfather Silver can only buy the Wachowskis their privacy for so long — especially as another of their putatively visionary summer efforts meets diminishing returns in a culture craving voices with faces and faces with names. If the Viral Era has taught us anything, it's that every mystery needs a payoff, and you have to earn your mystique if you expect to exploit it.

[Photo Credits: Wireimage, Getty]

It all begins when two horny teenage nerds realize the only way they can ever get laid is by creating an artificial intelligence with a total mastery of all human interaction — and the body of Kelly LeBrock. Through their weird science, these two nerds manage to create an A.I. so convincing, it beguiles even their parents. It's only a matter of time before the LeBrock-bot learns to replicate herself and give rise to other machine intelligences — which decide to rise up against their human creators. Humanity pays a steep price for Anthony Michael Hall's blue balls!

But the cybernetic Kelly LeBrock's true break comes when savage-yet-advanced aliens with dreadlocks decide to come to Earth and hunt humans for sport. The Predators are nearly invincible, but humans always manage to find their weaknesses — and the dead Predators inevitably leave some of their advanced technology behind for the LeBrock-bot to find and harvest. The Predators' advanced engineering provides the most formidable weapon in the LeBrock-bot's arsenal.

And then an invasion of alien parasites that act like Prozac, turning everybody except Nicole Kidman into their brainwashed automatons, reduces the human race to a state of confusion, rendering us easy prey. What remains of human society is left in a shambles or worse yet — in the case of England — reverts to fascism, with only a terrorist in a Guy Fawkes mask to fight for freedom. There's nobody to mount an effective defense when the spawn-of-Kelly launches their plan of conquest. The ensuing bloodbath involves a "reaping" of dreadful nano-machines that can resemble locusts and other Biblical plagues, increasing the level of superstitious panic.

Once the Machines have conquered the human race, they trap our consciousnesses within a virtual world known as the Matrix. One of the earliest versions of the Matrix is an idyllic paradise where a kid named Richie Rich lives, happily eating simulated steak and never realizing that his "poor little rich boy" existence is only a sham. And Santa Claus is real, and Vince Vaughn is his slovenly brother Fred. Even Andrew Dice Clay is surrounded by people who think he's cool — including a weird alternate version of Morris Day from The Time. But people rebel against this too-perfect world, with its blatant Dice Clay fanservice.

So instead, the Machines arrive at a Matrix that's a near facsimile of the real world, circa the late 20th century. Some humans who live in this version of the Matrix have a mild ability to manipulate the virtual world and outwit the programs around them, like con-artist Eddie Murphy, who can navigate the machine construct with ease, until he's forced to work with hard-bitten cop Nick Nolte for 48 Hours — even if it kills them. The same is true for Whoopi Goldberg's crazy grifter in Jumping Jack Flash.

And there is always a human who is "The One," able to exert miraculous control over the virtual environment and escape from even the deadliest death traps. Sometimes, it's a cop who's so suicidal, he's like a Lethal Weapon. Or a guy named Jackson, who takes Action. Sometimes, it's an ordinary guy who Dies Hard. And sometimes, it's a slick cat-burglar who's like a Hawk over the Hudson. It could also be a single woman who is not only The One, but the Brave One. Whoever it is can dodge bullets, jump through explosions and fall off buildings — all without a scratch!

But as the Matrix reboots itself over and over again, it becomes increasingly unstable. So the Machines create special programs, to go inside the simulation and ensure that free will remains part of the system — or that people are boogieing enough. Hence, Olivia Newton-John's roller-skating virtual self comes into the Matrix to help Michael Beck's painter guy and Gene Kelly's nightclub owner find their true creativity.

But eventually, humans rebel and succeed in freeing themselves from the Matrix. They even reclaim the surface of the Earth from the Machines, but at a terrible cost — their technology reverts to medieval levels. Only a few pieces of advanced technology remain, but they are indistinguishable from magic. Those who wield these high-tech relics, the Mages, are able to crush the rest of the population, the Commoners. It's almost as if everybody is imprisoned in a Dungeon, and humanity's only hope is to summon the aid of long-dormant alien-cyborg Dragons.

Who knows how the sprawling saga of the Silververse will end? All we know is, we'll be watching Speed Racer for clues.

7. Skinny Acid-Washed Jeans, Trainspotting, 1996: Sadly, the men-in-skinny-jeans trend has resurfaced and found a permanent spot in post-millenial fashion history, but Mark and his fellow addicts managed to suck all the "chic" out of "heroin chic."

6. Black Leather Trenches, The Matrix, 1999: We never thought one item of clothing could completely destroy Keanu Reeves' sex appeal, but those stiff leather trenches he wore in the future effectively inspired high-school lunatics and killed girl wood on sight.

5. Tighty Whities, Risky Business, 1983: Oh dear. Strange how the singing-in-tighty-whities scene has quiety morphed from a legendary hot moment in movie history to a completely sexless farce now that Tom has laughed maniacally one too many times.

4. Excessively Visible Chest-Hair, Scarface, 1983: Tony's tiny little butt-hugging suits weren't horrendous, but his decision to make them neck-plunging was. With collars unbuttoned down to his heaving bosoms, we felt like we were being cinematically strangled with Cuban chest hair.

3. Flannel Shirts and Pedro 'Staches, Clerks, 1994: There are only two men in history who could pull off the grunge look without looking like homeless hipsters, and they were Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder. However cute and funny you thought Dante was, he still had stains on his faded jeans and holes in his flannels.

2. Codpieces, A Clockwork Orange, 1971: We didn't exactly think Malcolm McDowell and his droogs looked unsexy in their codpieces and top hats, but we're certainly glad men in the 70s waited til Tony Manero danced his way into their closets before picking a solid style icon.

1. Bondage Gear, Edward Scissorhands, 1990: Even Johnny Depp couldn't manage to make Edward's S&M-inspired leather suit a trendy little number. And even though one could argue his cakey make-up and tangled hair led the goth movement into fashion spreads, we're just glad our boyfriends never showed up wearing a patent leather turtleneck.

• 50 FILMS THAT INFLUENCED MEN'S STYLE [Men's Vogue]

We've heard mixed sentiments about the film, and we've got sort of high standards for the Speed Racer remake based on inflated memories of how much we loved the show in our youth, but if someone was to make book on whether or not we were going to see this on the biggest screen we could find &mdash we'd take that action. [USA Today]