Atop the Summer Palace in Beijing, you get a stunning view in every direction, and on a clear day you can see the entire city. Climbing the summit, however, isn't the most pleasant activity when the temperature approaches forty degrees Celsius.

There's no better place to send a text message: 'grt vu!'

What the hell was Underworld all about? There was a lot of blue and black, and tight, squeaky leather; people kept running up and down stairs for no good reason; there were loads of magic guns that rarely had to be reloaded; and I think there were vampires - although they didn't seem to act like vampires - and some 'lycans', which seems to be a fancy word for hairless werewolves. What good are werewolves without hair? Why did everyone chase everyone else? Why did the vampires drink "cloned blood" when there was lots of perfectly good non-cloned blood walking around on two legs? Why did everyone speak in clichés all the time? Was it some sort of clever word game? Was that also why everyone acted like pompous dicks? And why-oh-why were they all so dour? Well, if I had to live in a two-tone world like that, I'd probably be grumpy and pretentious too.

Big on atmosphere, then - as in "let's hit 'em over the head with the atmosphere, lads! Bring on more leather! Oh, and keep the rain machine running, it can't hurt" - and short on story. And logic, for that matter. I tuned out after a while, but I did enjoy myself. Sort of. After all, it was the 'special' version with twenty-three minutes tacked on somewhere. Don't ask me where: I never watched the original. Besides, Kate Beckinsale isn't the worst thing in the world to spend two hours staring at. You don't feel you've completely wasted your time. Still: could have, should have, been better. Oh well. Bring on Blade Trinity.
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