“Now Hiring: Gothic Leather-Clad Gymnasts Needed for Endless Gunfights”
Let’s be honest—if you’ve made it to the fourth film in the Underworld franchise, you’ve already accepted a few things: Kate Beckinsale will never age, vampires will always dress like they shop exclusively at Hot Topic, and Lycans are contractually obligated to look like rejected Resident Evil DLC monsters.
But Underworld: Awakening somehow manages to make Underworld: Evolution look like Shakespeare in latex. Directed by the tag-team duo of Måns Mårlind and Björn Stein—because apparently it takes two directors to aim a blue-tinted camera at Beckinsale’s cheekbones—the movie is a 90-minute exercise in gunfire, CGI, and creative bankruptcy.
It’s the cinematic equivalent of microwaving a steak: you technically get food, but something deep inside you knows it died twice.
“The Plot: A Cryogenic Nap Gone Wrong”
The story picks up after Underworld: Evolution, though “story” might be a generous term. Humans have discovered that vampires and Lycans exist, and instead of turning that into an interesting allegory about persecution or fear, the film just says: “Eh, let’s shoot everything.”
Our favorite vampire assassin Selene (Kate Beckinsale, still trapped in the same PVC bodysuit since 2003) gets captured during “The Purge,” a global monster genocide. She’s frozen for twelve years in a tube that looks suspiciously like a perfume commercial set piece. When she wakes up, the world’s gone to hell, Lycans are nearly extinct, and the human race is doing what humans do best—messing with science they don’t understand.
Selene breaks out, kills a few dozen people with her usual mixture of slow-motion ballet and frowning, and discovers she has a daughter—Eve, a hybrid child born from her and her missing lover, Michael Corvin. This is a shocking revelation to anyone who didn’t see the trailer or read the Wikipedia synopsis.
The rest of the film is basically Selene trying to rescue Eve from a shady biotech company called Antigen. Yes, that’s the name. Because nothing says “villainous corporation” like something you’d find on a bottle of cough syrup.
“Antigen: Because Evil Science Needs Branding”
Antigen is secretly run by Lycans in lab coats who are trying to “cure” themselves of their weaknesses. (The film doesn’t explain how they secured government contracts while also being literal werewolves, but I suppose LinkedIn endorsements go a long way.)
The company’s big bad, Dr. Jacob Lane (Stephen Rea, looking like he lost a bet), is conducting experiments using Eve’s DNA to make a super-werewolf. This leads to the introduction of Quint, the “Super-Lycan”—a ten-foot-tall, silver-immune beast with a bodybuilder physique and the personality of a wet mop.
Quint’s big scenes involve roaring, punching, and dying in predictably dumb fashion. You can tell the CGI department was proud of him because they keep the camera glued to every glistening muscle, as if to scream, “See? We did spend money!”
“Selene’s Family Reunion (Now With More Murder)”
Beckinsale, to her credit, still gives 110%—which is impressive considering the script gives her about five lines of dialogue, three of which are “Where is he?” She’s joined by Theo James as David, a brooding vampire whose personality is defined entirely by his haircut. He’s supposed to be the next generation of vampire leadership, which is probably why he dies halfway through the movie and then gets resurrected like nothing happened.
Then there’s Eve (India Eisley), Selene’s daughter, who spends most of her screen time trembling, snarling, or staring blankly into space like she’s in a school play about PTSD. When she finally unleashes her hybrid form, it’s supposed to be terrifying, but the effect lands somewhere between “feral raccoon” and “feral child from a shampoo commercial.”
“The Dialogue: Written by a Committee of Brooding Bats”
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if you fed a thesaurus to a Roomba and let it write your screenplay, Underworld: Awakening has your answer. Every line sounds like it was translated from English to Vampire and back again.
A few highlights:
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“I heal fast. But not that fast.” (Thank you, Captain Obvious.)
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“You’re the key to everything.” (Classic.)
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“I just want to go home.” (Ah, the same line from Storage 24—clearly the 2012 cinematic motto.)
The film mistakes whispering for gravitas and confusion for complexity. By the halfway mark, the dialogue becomes pure exposition—characters explaining things to each other that no one understands, least of all the audience.
“Action, Action, Action (and None of It Matters)”
Every Underworld movie has at least one defining visual style: the endless rain, the moody blue lighting, the fetishistic slow motion. Awakening takes those aesthetics, throws them into a blender, and dials the speed to “Michael Bay.”
Every scene feels like it’s been choreographed by someone whose only note was “make it louder.” Bullets fly, vampires backflip, Lycans roar, glass shatters—it’s cinematic white noise. You could walk out, make a sandwich, and return fifteen minutes later without missing a single plot development.
And in glorious 3D, no less! The blood splatters come right at you, as if to personally apologize for wasting your time.
“The Supporting Cast: Paychecks and Plot Holes”
Stephen Rea mumbles his way through as Dr. Lane, the least convincing villain since a Bond henchman with a fear of heights. Michael Ealy plays Detective Sebastian, a man whose vampire wife died tragically, leaving him to look permanently confused about how he ended up in this movie. Charles Dance—yes, Tywin Lannister himself—shows up briefly as David’s father, Thomas, and delivers every line like he’s trying not to laugh.
It’s the kind of cast that makes you wonder if everyone signed the contract before reading the script. Beckinsale looks committed, but everyone else seems to be in various stages of resignation.
“Family Drama, Now With Fangs”
At its core, the film wants to be about motherhood—Selene finding and protecting her daughter in a world that fears them both. But Underworld: Awakening treats emotional beats like vampires treat sunlight: by avoiding them entirely.
Selene’s reaction to discovering her daughter is less “maternal instinct” and more “mild surprise at a parking ticket.” Their relationship is summarized by about three lines and a lot of blood splatter. By the end, you’re not sure if they’ve bonded or just happened to survive the same explosion.
“The Ending: Tune In Next Time (Please Don’t)”
In the climactic finale, Selene defeats the Super-Lycan by shoving a silver grenade into his stomach—a moment so absurd it almost redeems the film through sheer audacity. Eve kills Dr. Lane, the facility collapses, and the surviving trio—Selene, Eve, and David—stand heroically while vowing to find Michael.
Then they discover his cryo-tube is empty, and the movie ends. No closure, no payoff, just a cliffhanger so limp it should come with a doctor’s note.
The final shot of Beckinsale staring into the distance says it all: she’s already imagining a better sequel.
Final Verdict: 1.5 Out of 5 Silver Grenades
Underworld: Awakening is less a movie and more an industrial noise experiment with vampires. It’s sleek, hollow, and joyless—like a fashion shoot for bulletproof corsets.
Yes, the action’s loud, the lighting’s moody, and Kate Beckinsale is still effortlessly badass. But that’s all it has. The story’s incoherent, the characters are cardboard, and the emotional stakes are about as sharp as a plastic fang from a Halloween costume.
If you want to watch stylish people in tight outfits shoot CGI monsters under blue filters, this film delivers. If you want plot, tension, or anything resembling a pulse, you’ll have to dig through Storage 24.
At this point, the Underworld franchise feels like its own undead creation—refusing to die, feeding on nostalgia, and wandering the earth in search of one last paycheck.
And if that’s not horror, I don’t know what is.
