Defanged and Declawed
Director Len Wiseman's freshman effort Underworld is long on style and short on substance, playing more like a combination music video and first person shooter game than a movie. The strong visual style is no accident, according to production notes, Wiseman cut his cinematic teeth working in the art departments for Godzilla, Independence Day and Men in Black, as well as being involved in the art direction for numerous music videos. And it shows here in Underworld. Its gothic noir look is cool and sexy. Unfortunately, the story is a muddle that art direction has little power to save.
The movie deals with the culmination of a centuries-long war between vampires and lycan (werewolves). Selene (Kate Beckinsale) is a "death dealer" who spends her nights hunting down the werewolves. The opening sequence details one of these missions with Selene and her fellow "death dealers" using all matter of gadgets (infrared cameras, silver bullet spewing automatic pistols, cell phones, etc.—it is the 21st century after all) to track and then kill the lycan, whom she later learns were hunting human being Michael Corvin (Scott Speedman)—not for food, but for another, more nefarious reason, which really doesn't matter in the end.
Screenwriter Danny McBride has "reimagined" the vampire and werewolf legends. Vampires are essentially split into two covens of really cool, languid, rich immortals with an impenetrable social schema that is only hinted at and never fully explained (though when explanations come, it's usually a reel or two too late for the audience to really care). The lycan are more straightforward man-animals (there seems to be no female lycan) who spend their time in squalor, engaging in Fight Club-esque combats. The main difference between these werewolves and that of the Lon Chaney school is that the Underworld variety are not controlled by the moon, but can change at will.
The fundamental problem with Underworld is this "reimagining." McBride has taken rules long established in folklore and the movies and has changed them without so much as an explanation. For instance, the vampires, for some reason, no longer feed on human beings but drink animal blood—and this is only mentioned in passing. It is indicated that the bite from either lycan or vampire is deadly to a human being. And the human race seems to be in little danger from these creatures (in fact the only time we see masses of humans in the nameless city of Underworld is during the opening sequence). True, these creatures are in the shadows, but myth has established that these predators see humans as nothing more than playthings and foodstuffs, and we should have at least one human sacrifice to set the mood. And along with this "reimagining" comes a sort of mythic castration, rendering these powerful, romantic supernatural creatures rather boring.
Underworld's other problem is the lack of chemistry between death dealer Beckinsale and human victim Speedman. Don't let the ads fool you. There is not any romance nor even a spark between these two. And the action is so fast and furious that even if there was there wouldn't be any time to explore it.
The acting is what one would expect in this sort of thing—lots of scene chewing and intonations of cryptic phrases uttered while characters walk purposefully down a corridor. Speedman, though, needs special notice as probably the most miscast and lost actor in any movie this year. Fresh from his stint on TV's Felicity, Speedman plays his victim like a surfer lost in Transylvania. Better, but still suffering under the weight of the script's semi-incomprehensibility is Michael Sheen as lycan leader Lucian. Star Beckinsale is good—she could have a real career as an action heroine with the right script—and is helped considerably by her latex and leather bodysuits, which she wears throughout the picture, giving The Matrix's Carrie Anne Moss a run for her money in the fetish-heroine department.
The action, Underworld's main attraction, is decent but repetitious after awhile, and the final battle is a near howler. The casual action fan, though, will be left with a pain in the neck.
The movie deals with the culmination of a centuries-long war between vampires and lycan (werewolves). Selene (Kate Beckinsale) is a "death dealer" who spends her nights hunting down the werewolves. The opening sequence details one of these missions with Selene and her fellow "death dealers" using all matter of gadgets (infrared cameras, silver bullet spewing automatic pistols, cell phones, etc.—it is the 21st century after all) to track and then kill the lycan, whom she later learns were hunting human being Michael Corvin (Scott Speedman)—not for food, but for another, more nefarious reason, which really doesn't matter in the end.
Screenwriter Danny McBride has "reimagined" the vampire and werewolf legends. Vampires are essentially split into two covens of really cool, languid, rich immortals with an impenetrable social schema that is only hinted at and never fully explained (though when explanations come, it's usually a reel or two too late for the audience to really care). The lycan are more straightforward man-animals (there seems to be no female lycan) who spend their time in squalor, engaging in Fight Club-esque combats. The main difference between these werewolves and that of the Lon Chaney school is that the Underworld variety are not controlled by the moon, but can change at will.
The fundamental problem with Underworld is this "reimagining." McBride has taken rules long established in folklore and the movies and has changed them without so much as an explanation. For instance, the vampires, for some reason, no longer feed on human beings but drink animal blood—and this is only mentioned in passing. It is indicated that the bite from either lycan or vampire is deadly to a human being. And the human race seems to be in little danger from these creatures (in fact the only time we see masses of humans in the nameless city of Underworld is during the opening sequence). True, these creatures are in the shadows, but myth has established that these predators see humans as nothing more than playthings and foodstuffs, and we should have at least one human sacrifice to set the mood. And along with this "reimagining" comes a sort of mythic castration, rendering these powerful, romantic supernatural creatures rather boring.
Underworld's other problem is the lack of chemistry between death dealer Beckinsale and human victim Speedman. Don't let the ads fool you. There is not any romance nor even a spark between these two. And the action is so fast and furious that even if there was there wouldn't be any time to explore it.
The acting is what one would expect in this sort of thing—lots of scene chewing and intonations of cryptic phrases uttered while characters walk purposefully down a corridor. Speedman, though, needs special notice as probably the most miscast and lost actor in any movie this year. Fresh from his stint on TV's Felicity, Speedman plays his victim like a surfer lost in Transylvania. Better, but still suffering under the weight of the script's semi-incomprehensibility is Michael Sheen as lycan leader Lucian. Star Beckinsale is good—she could have a real career as an action heroine with the right script—and is helped considerably by her latex and leather bodysuits, which she wears throughout the picture, giving The Matrix's Carrie Anne Moss a run for her money in the fetish-heroine department.
The action, Underworld's main attraction, is decent but repetitious after awhile, and the final battle is a near howler. The casual action fan, though, will be left with a pain in the neck.
