Twenty years ago, a visionary film was released about a man with no past, wielding superhuman powers against humanity’s hidden masters in a sinister metropolis, and it made moviegoers question how they regarded reality.

And then, one year later, the Wachowski siblings unleashed “The Matrix” – the first one – to great acclaim and commercial success.

Since its debut in 1999, “The Matrix” has withstood the test of time as a fine-quality film in its own right (certainly more than its sequels did). Yet those of us who saw director Alex Proyas’ “Dark City” in 1998 could not help but feel that it not only got there first, but also did it better.

A bone-weary policeman, Inspector Bumstead (William Hurt) seeks to solve a string of murders that drove his partner insane.

A comely nightclub singer, Emma Murdoch (Jennifer Connelly) is contacted by a secretive psychiatrist, Dr. Daniel Paul Schreber (Kiefer Sutherland), who claims to have been treating her husband, John.

According to the doctor, John has suffered “a psychotic break,” and sure enough, in another part of the city, a twitchy John Murdoch (Rufus Sewell) wakes up in a dingy hotel room, with no memories. In the room, he discovers the body of a murdered woman, with signs indicating she died by his hand.

How these puzzle pieces fit together might seem all too obvious, except when they stubbornly refuse to do so, as when Bumstead questions why a serial killer of women, as John seems to be, would take the time to rescue a fish whose bowl he accidentally knocked over.

“Dark City” starts out as a noir mystery and remains one, even as it questions the stylistic and narrative traits of the noir genre itself.

Murdoch knows nothing about this city and its people, much less about the person he was supposed to be, so he is able to act as the audience’s proxy, asking the questions we have always wondered about noir movies but were never encouraged to consider.

Why do the city’s architectural designs and levels of technology, as well as the fashions of its inhabitants, seem to reflect so many distinct and separate eras, without actually indicating what year it is?

Why does the night never end, no matter how long Murdoch stays awake?

And, even though everyone Murdoch asks can remember Shell Beach, why can’t any of them remember how to get there?

It’s a bit disturbing how much some of the city’s more absurd aspects mirror real life, such as a deftly delivered gag about its “express” train line. This mirroring makes it all the more awe-inspiring when we do see the secret of Shell Beach, and beyond.

Every cast member is excellent in this. Hurt’s character is hilariously beat down by life (“Why does no one ever listen to me?”). Connelly is at the white-hot thermonuclear peak of her charms. Sewell instantly evokes one’s empathy as an amnesia case pinballing off the walls of the maze of the city. Sutherland disappears so completely into his cowering, traumatized role that it’s like watching Philip Seymour Hoffman.

And that is before we even get to “Rocky Horror Picture Show” alum Richard O’Brien as the mysterious Mr. Hand....

Be sure to watch the director’s cut by Proyas, who also directed the late Brandon Lee in “The Crow,” to bask in the experience of having this mystery slowly unspool before you.

This one is a head trip, gang. Treat yourselves.

Movie lover Kirk Boxleitner writes about Jefferson County government and other news and features, when he’s not watching movies.