Whether or not you go for this kind of vampiric-werewolf hokum, there’s no denying that Beckinsale makes for one helluva vampire queen: pasty faced, athletic and endowed with a fine pair of incisors, she really looks the part in all that body-hugging, full-length leather. Here she reprises her role in real-life hubby’s convoluted, silver-hued sequel which mixes bloody violence and gothic sex to mostly bewildering effect. I can’t even begin to divulge the storyline because it’s mostly unfathomable. Scenes jump cut from one century to another; faces are obscured, and the many bloody fight sequences are too confusingly choreographed to follow. It makes a little more sense by the end although by that time you may have been too desensitised to care.