![]() It has something to do with an ancient feud between monster clans, and with the vampires’ Nazilike obsession with maintaining “the purity of the bloodline.” Like decadent Hapsburgians, the black-clad bloodsuckers loll around their Budapest mansion sipping red stuff from wine goblets and murmuring about the upcoming “awakening” of their master. The palette reinforces the monotony of the storyline and the confusing resemblance of most of the long-haired male characters (vampire and werewolf)-who are even more of a challenge to keep track of during the stroboscopically edited and incoherent battle sequences. It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d been having fun, but 125 minutes is a long time to stare at a movie that’s basically in bleached blue-and-white with occasional splotches of brick red. Literalist that I am, I kept wanting to scream: “WHAT ARE THE BLOODY RULES?” The head vampire, meanwhile, seems to be able to kill Lycans with his bare hands, while others perish from having their blood drained by werewolf scientists looking to cross-breed the two species for maximum invincibility. Vampires jump from towering skyscrapers and land intact, but one nearly drowns in a submerged car. One Lycan expires, revives, expires, revives, and finally expires (I think). Some of the werewolves (or, as they’re known here, “Lycans”) are able to squeeze the bullets out of their smoking bodies in mid-transformation, while others simply keel over and rot. ![]() So, I had a tough time processing Underworld (Screen Gems), in which vampires wielding automatic weapons do Matrix-style slow-motion somersaults while firing silver-nitrate bullets into werewolves, who ricochet off the walls while shooting back with irradiated “daylight” projectiles. Being a simple, old-fashioned fellow, I like my vampires staked through the heart and my werewolves bludgeoned to death with silver-handled walking sticks.
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