A load of...

Rating: 2/10 (9 March 2006)

The horror and action genres have become so overloaded with clichés that to some extent, they now must resort to great lengths in order to seem mildly unique, leave alone inventive. Underworld attempts to become unique by pitting two overused creatures of myth and legend against one another. Unfortunately, the writer/director is a first-timer, as are both of the writers where feature films are concerned. Sometimes, one can disguise the fact with flashes of brilliance or inventiveness. Nobody would suspect that RoboCop was Edward Neumeier's first sold screenplay, for example. Unfortunately, Underworld wastes no time in showing that Kevin Grevioux, Len Wiseman, and Danny McBride have about as much writing talent between them as Edward Neumeier's nose hairs displayed in RoboCop. Indeed, a comparison is fair between RoboCop and Underworld because both try to reinvent a stale genre. Underworld fails where RoboCop succeeded because it has no idea when to break the rules, or how. The fact that it dates itself without stopping for breath does not help.
Underworld concerns itself with the seemingly endless battle between the aristocratic vampires and the savage, ornery werewolves. In another attempt to distinguish itself, the word Lycan is used in place of werewolf, despite the fact that Lycanthrophy is generally used to refer to morphing into a number of animals these days. And that highlights one of the most major problems with the film. The makers have a poor attitude, having the nerve to claim that audiences were indifferent to the film because they did not "get" things like the use of the word Lycan. This attitude has apparently not changed in the sequel, where the screenplay progressively reverts to werewolf. The problem here is that this telegraphs both the kind of audience the makers were aiming for, in addition to their contempt for the audience. From the editing to the hideous photography, Underworld announces itself as an R film trying to pander to a PG-13 audience. As a result, it winds up in no man's land, trying to appeal to everyone and pleasing no one.
Failing to help matters is that the characters have all the extra dimensions of puddles, and the actors are unable to combat the effect. Bill Nighy looks especially uncomfortable trying to deliver his atrocious dialogue, which is heavily burdened with trying to set up the rules instead of putting them into effect. Which only serves to highlight the film's most fatal flaw. In its attempt to make something the audience have never seen without the expertise to make it make sense, Underworld gets bogged down in exposition to such an extent that the middle section could be used to prove Einstein's theory of relativity. In Einstein's most simple explanation of the theory, when one spends an hour with a beautiful woman like Kate Beckinsale, it seems like a mere second, but when one spends a second with their hand on a hot stove, it seems like an hour. The second act of Underworld, in which Selene attempts to secure Michael against those seeking to use him to their ends and expose the truth about Viktor, is like having a wart burned out with liquid nitrogen. The middle of Underworld literally makes one feel as if time is slowing down in order to amplify one's discomfort.
Apparently, the makers of the film felt the boredom was insufficient, because they have delivered an extended cut that replaces eleven minutes of existing footage while adding another twelve. While I cannot comment on the extended cut of the film, I can say that it would take a lot more than replacing eleven minutes to address the film's most stunning problem. In contrast to the recent sequel, in which Selene and Michael managed to show enough character to make viewers care about their plight, the entire cast here might as well be dolls with human mouths blue-screened over theirs. One knows even less about them when the film is over compared to when it began. Viktor suffers the worst from this terrible storytelling, with his character having no other purpose to betray his own kind and be an insufferable so-and-so. Matter of fact, the only characters who do not warrant a good punch in the face throughout their screen time are Selene and Michael, which is just as well when you consider that they are the characters upon which the entire film hangs. Even George Lucas was able to give characters like Anakin Skywalker a second dimension during his prequel trilogy, if only barely.
As I said in my comments about Underworld: Evolution, the sequel is a bit of an improvement. But when you have a lead-in like this, even the third Matrix episode constitutes an improvement. By comparison, the two recent X-Men films directed by Bryan Singer take a first act that generates tear-inducing sympathy for the most important characters from an educated audience, and adds a second act that has the audience cheering on the mutants as they wage war, regardless of their actual goodness or whatever. By comparison, Underworld is a sleeping pill followed by a dash of coffee. Due to differences in the way my neurochemistry works, neither have a discernible effect upon me, and I would not be overly generous in the description of the effect they have on others. And thus, the failure of Underworld is summarised: in spite of trying to pass for adult-oriented entertainment, it barely has enough to excite the teen audience the studio had in mind. In fact, I feel I am insulting teenagers with that sentence.
I gave Underworld a two out of ten. It is too good to be bad enough to be good. Thus, it winds up firmly stuck in no man's land. I have heard it jokingly called Underpants by detractors, and I say if the shoe fits, then wear it.