Analysis of Mise-en-Scène in a clip from the movie Underworld (2003)

The mise-en-Scène, and cinematography, throughout the movie trilogy of the Underworld series, is exceedingly stylized. Unique in many ways, but adhering to common horror and thriller conventions in others.
The character of Selene, portrayed by Kate Beckinsale, is herself something of spin on traditional vampire stereotypes. Black clothing and hair, pale skin, yet wielding a fire-arm, she enters a dreary modern apartment and rifles through information left about by the owner, introduced after her intrusion. Her method of entry- a harsh kick to the door - tells a lot about her character. Her costume alone, a black bodysuit, is enough to signify her role as an action-hero, and when combined with the gothic ornamentation and long black trench-coat, the audience is made aware early on that she isn’t a particularly conventional female lead. It also remains safely in the recognizable realms of both thriller and gothic fantasy; black signifying the supernatural and darkness, whereas deathly pale skin and fangs speak for themselves.

Moonlight spills into the room, eerily obstructed by wavering curtains; the window is open, creating a sense of unease and vulnerability for the audience as she enters alone. To add to this sense of unease, the character of Michael Corvin, played by Scott Speedman, who from previous footage is shown to be a lot less capable of looking after himself than Selene, returns to find the door of his abode cast ajar – something recognizable to anyone as unnerving. The black silhouette and slow, fearful walk, combined with his disparaged, fatigued appearance, all amount to his vulnerability.
Already dark scenery is amplified by the use of shadows; barely anything is visible outside of the moonlight; the horror-stereotyping continually flaunted for the audience as lighting flickers outside. The rate of lightning flashes seems to increase as the tension mounts, and, as the character of Selene eventually reveals herself, reaches its pinnacle. The usage of long, opaque and disfigured shadows gives an alien peculiarity to the interaction.
During a voice-over, the shot changes to a short scene filmed in a hospital. The walls are or have been filtered a miserable green, in contrast to the majority of the scenes in which a faint blue tint gives contrast and a creepier edge to even ordinary conversations. The medical location is made obvious by both the voiceover dialogue, combined with the use of the public safety Emergency Exit sign above a mesh-windowed door. Impersonal metal locker’s for the use of employees also convey a common perception that hospitals, along with other medical facilities, often emanate a clinical anonymity, which furthers the impressions made on the audience of the character Michael Corvin by entering his apartment alone.

A sense of fear in this locale is heightened by the obvious presence of two police officers. They too are donned in black adorned with traditional police department badge and cap. But even the fur-trimmed, black-leather, metal-studded coats lend to a sense of misapprehension, swaying subtly too far from what would be considered conventional apparel for officers of the law, and into those of the on-screen henchman or villain. The tension of being visited and questioned by two legal-officials is also present in the surgical-scrub-wearing intern, another reasonably common experience relatable to by the audience.

Meanwhile, as Selene scours for information within the intruded-upon apartment, she comes across several photographs. In total contrast to the entirety of the clip, these appear to have been taken in broad daylight, adding great emphasis to just how dreary and unpleasant things are, both in the present situation of the characters in comparison to the past, as well as their environment, in contrast to the photographs. In these pictures, the sun shines - suburban living and family and romantic values are encapsulated in just a few images. The previously vague outline of Michael Corvin as a character begins to take shape as an everyday figure, a world apart from the horrifying and fantastical domains of vampire-werewolf blood feuds – someone who everyone else ever to have been involved in a family photo can relate to. This regularity, although comfortably recognizable, adds tension to the position that Michael Corvin now finds himself in, giving the impression that, despite their incongruity, these events could possibly happen to anyone: that each member of the audience could in fact find themselves in his position.

The scene progresses the corridor of the apartment block as Michael Corvin fleas from his apartment, followed closely by an enraged Selene. Thunderous slams causing the ceiling to splinter caused Michael’s terror. A subtle but overwhelming sense of isolation is created, and possibly a more allegoric perception of modern living in this scene. The apartment block, presumably fully occupied considering Michael Corvin resides in apartment five-hundred and one, is old fashioned with onetime-modern wooden doorframes and printed ceilings. Every single door is shut aside from Michael’s. The sense of loneliness, almost abandonment, is clear: despite the undeniable uproar of the arrival of the Werewolves, the shouting and frantic footsteps, the impression that the apartment block is empty is unbelievable, yet subtly suggested to the audience in a completely credible and effective way.

The Werewolves, or in the fictional universe of the Underworld trilogy Lycans (a disambiguation of the term Lycanthropy used since the initiation of man-wolf mythology as a medical description of the condition) arrive at Michael’s door. Although able to change shape, their arrival in a group is in their “wolf” facade. The Lycan aesthetic is, while transformed, an effective representation of a man-wolf hybrid as it where, at in complete contrast to the Vampires of the series. They stand taller than the average man, muscled and furred, clawed, and, as perhaps the most original feature of the Lycan, with an almost simian elongated skull and jaw.

They arrive clawing their way along the walls, destructive even in travel, in a pack of three. They approach Selene, standing alone in a dead end. Another interesting point to be made on the Lycan-lore is that not once is a female Lycan either shown or in any way referenced to have ever existed. The image is somewhat empowering despite presumably not intended as a feminist statement; three savage creatures charge towards a lone beautiful woman, who stands her ground.

During a brief shootout and innovative escape by Selene, Michael is confronted by Lucian, the Lycan alpha. Lucian’s aesthetic is perhaps the most rustic, a throwback to a soon-to-be-referenced mythology spanning close to a millennia. The majority of costumes chosen for the Vampire cast are elegant, gothic alternatives to modern attire, a testament to folklore as well as the slick contemporary vibe of the film, similar to the Lycans whilst in human form.

Lucian is much more traditionally garbed, wearing earthy brown trench-coat and long hair swept back, unshaven with an ornamental amulet on a gold chain – he is a character largely unchanged by time, barely visibly in the modern day. This, however, is significant. The film’s plot centres round the vampire versus lycanthrope blood feud. Despite many other events referenced from an incredibly well detailed history created by the screenwriter and director, the event to have ignited the war and thus storyline was the death of Lucian’s wife. This occurred (fictional) centuries beforehand, and his continual waging of the war, plus the aesthetic Lucian sports, is a tribute to Lucian’s inability to forget and forgive the past.

In the following sequence, Lucian engages Michael despite Selene’s best efforts. This scene is particularly vital to the stories progression, as well as somewhat striking. It occurs within a motionless elevator Michael has descended from, possibly significant to this being a low point emotionally; that he has in fact descended into the darkest depths of the unravelling trauma. The doors open and Lucian steps inwards to bite him. Several features of this already macabre occurrence provide excessive food for thought. Lucian’s eyes glow blue, close to white. Despite the eerie shine, this offers the connotation of innocence, which is later proved to be true; Lucian’s intent towards Michael is, despite appearances, not ill will. They stand on the ground floor, at the bottom of the elevator shaft, meaning the only place to go from there would be up, physically and otherwise. Lucian is later revealed to be the underdog hero of the entire series, making these connotations inevitably significant despite their subtlety, alongside the fact that they are portrayed in a horrifying sequence of disturbingly intimate violence.

Mise-en-scène in this short clip manages to portray slight character detail, suggests details and fine plot twists, provides tension, context and intriguing fiction, entirely through aesthetic.