There are movies that expand universes. Then there are movies that expand migraines. Underworld: Evolution, the second installment in the leather-clad, gun-fu vampire saga, belongs firmly in the latter category. Directed by Len Wiseman, written by Danny McBride (not the funny one, sadly), and starring Kate Beckinsale’s PVC wardrobe, this sequel is less “evolution” and more “cellular regression.”
This movie is what happens when you feed the Matrix trilogy to a blender, add a splash of Anne Rice, and garnish it with rejected fanfiction from a goth high schooler’s LiveJournal.
Plot, Or: The Family Drama Nobody Invited Me To
The movie begins in 1202, because apparently the audience needed a history lesson no one asked for. We meet Markus, a vampire elder, and his twin brother William, the very first werewolf—because apparently no one in this franchise can have a normal sibling relationship without apocalyptic consequences.
Markus wants to free William, Viktor wants to keep William locked up, and I just wanted the movie to skip ahead so I could watch Kate Beckinsale kick someone in slow motion. Instead, I got a medieval WWE cage match with bad wigs and even worse dialogue.
Fast forward to the “present day,” where Selene (Kate Beckinsale, patron saint of latex catsuits) and Michael (Scott Speedman, patron saint of bland hybrids) are on the run. Markus wakes up, kills Kraven (the franchise’s least interesting character, which is saying something), and sets out to find a pendant that is basically the key to his brother’s werewolf Airbnb.
Cue endless exposition. Cue flashbacks. Cue more lore than The Silmarillion crammed into 105 minutes of blue-tinted nonsense. By the time Derek Jacobi shows up as Alexander Corvinus—immortal dad, cover-up artist, and part-time boat enthusiast—I was actively rooting for sunlight to kill everyone and end my suffering.
Kate Beckinsale: Queen of Latex, Empress of Wasted Potential
Let’s get this out of the way: Kate Beckinsale looks incredible. The latex, the trench coats, the gunplay—she could read the phone book while dropkicking werewolves, and I’d still watch. Unfortunately, she’s stuck delivering dialogue that sounds like it was ripped from a Dungeons & Dragons campaign written by someone with a thesaurus fetish.
Selene’s character arc boils down to: brood, shoot, kiss Scott Speedman, repeat. She has the emotional range of a tax form, not because Beckinsale can’t act, but because the script treats her like a fashion mannequin with a death wish.
Scott Speedman: Wet Cardboard, Now With Fangs
Michael, the so-called vampire-werewolf hybrid, should be the franchise’s most interesting character. Instead, he’s basically a wet sponge with abs. The man spends most of the movie unconscious, impaled, or generally looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
When he finally transforms into his hybrid form to fight William, it should be a fist-pumping moment. Instead, it looks like someone fed a Smurf steroids and wrapped it in Play-Doh.
The Villains: A Family Feud with Too Much Eyeliner
Markus, the big bad, is supposed to be terrifying—the first vampire, a demonic bat-winged powerhouse. Instead, he looks like the rejected concept art for a Castlevania boss. He growls, he flies around, he makes dramatic speeches about destiny. Yawn.
William, the werewolf twin, fares even worse. For all the buildup, he’s just a giant wolf with the personality of a dog chewing on drywall. His climactic death—head ripped off by Michael—lands with all the impact of a wet noodle. After centuries of build-up, William dies faster than my patience during this movie.
The Lore Dump: Too Much, Too Soon, Too Boring
The film’s biggest crime isn’t the dodgy CGI or the constant gunfire—it’s the relentless lore dumps. Every ten minutes, some character launches into a monologue about the Corvinus bloodline, the ancient war, the pendants, the prisons, the vampire-werewolf genealogy chart.
It’s like the filmmakers confused “mystical worldbuilding” with “reading from a Wikipedia entry out loud.” By the time Andreas Tanis, the vampire historian, shows up to spew more exposition, I was considering chewing through my Blu-ray case just to feel alive again.
Action Scenes: Gun-Fu Fatigue
Yes, there are action scenes. Yes, Kate Beckinsale flips through the air while shooting dual pistols at werewolves. Yes, there’s blood and fangs and plenty of CGI goo. But after the fifteenth slow-motion backflip, you stop feeling exhilarated and start wondering if the editor had a drinking problem.
The final helicopter crash fight, with Selene shoving Markus into the rotors, should be memorable. Instead, it plays like a Syfy Channel original from the mid-2000s. The CGI blood spray looks like it was rendered on a Nokia flip phone.
The Romance: Necrophilia with Extra Steps
Selene and Michael’s romance is supposed to be the emotional anchor of the story. Instead, it’s the cinematic equivalent of two mannequins kissing in a department store window. Their sex scene is less “passionate immortal love” and more “two actors politely waiting for the director to yell cut.”
Honestly, I had more emotional investment in Selene’s trench coat.
The Aesthetic: 50 Shades of Blue
The entire movie is drenched in a color palette that can best be described as “Smurf depression.” Blue everywhere. Blue caves, blue castles, blue latex, blue CGI blood. If you told me the cinematographer shot the whole film through a bottle of Windex, I’d believe you.
It’s supposed to look gothic and moody, but instead it just makes you long for the sweet embrace of sunlight—or at least a warmer filter.
The Ending: Congratulations, You’re Now a Daywalker
At the end, Selene drinks Alexander’s blood, which turns her into a hybrid who can walk in sunlight. This should be a game-changer. Instead, it feels like the writers ran out of ideas and decided, “Eh, let’s give her SPF infinity and call it a day.”
The implication is that Selene is now unstoppable, which means any future sequels should just be her lounging on the beach sipping Bloody Marys. Sadly, we got Underworld: Rise of the Lycans instead.
Final Verdict: Evolution? More Like De-Evolution
Underworld: Evolution isn’t the worst movie ever made, but it’s proof that sequels can take everything fun about the original and drown it in exposition, latex, and overcooked CGI. The action is repetitive, the lore is suffocating, and the characters have all the depth of a kiddie pool.
If you’re looking for a fun, campy vampire flick, rewatch Blade. If you want gothic action with style, rewatch The Matrix. If you want Kate Beckinsale looking good in leather while you suffer through endless lore dumps, then congratulations—you’ve found your perfect hell.
Final Score: 2 out of 10 pendants.
One point for Beckinsale’s trench coat. One point for Bill Nighy’s five seconds of screen time. Everything else deserves to be locked in William’s prison and never spoken of again.
