Although it sounds trivial, with Wildling, first-time director Fritz Böhm makes a splash on the coming-of-age and supernatural genre circles. From the deftly-shot cinematography in terrifying woods to the obvious, yet undeniably perfect, casting of horror favorite Brad Dourif, who portrays Daddy with delicious creepiness and an unexpected layer of sympathy borne from his own fear of his daughter’s emerging womanhood.

But the real star here is Bel Powley, who cements her acting versatility playing a radically different character than she did in her breakout role three years ago. As Anna begins to experience the social, party going nature of teenage life, Powley skillfully sells the idea of being an alien to that world. As the script grows more grotesque, Powley commits fully to her monstrous form, embracing both the terror and invigoration that come packaged with maturity. Her journey is compounded with unprecedented fears and desires as well as empowerment and self-realized independence.

With all that shines in Wildling, it does, nonetheless, have a familiar feel to it. Creature features paralleled against teenage puberty is far from a new concept, but it’s become especially prevalent in recent years with international horror submissions such as “Raw” and “Thelma.” The initial set-up itself feels like it was pulled straight out of “Room.” In addition, side characters such as Tyler and Anna’s love interest Ray (Collin Kelly-Sordelet, “Radium Girls”) don’t seem to do much more than cater to Anna’s narrative. It admittedly allows for better pacing, but the capability of the actors feels squandered in favor of thinner characterization.

That being said, the final act more-or-less abandons most of the familiar subtext the film sets up and charges forth as gory, full-fledged horror, capitalizing on a killer sound design and showcasing the shadowy, aforementioned woods in all their claustrophobic glory. Depending on your satisfaction with what came before, the lack of depth may annoy or entertain, but fans of werewolf scares will certainly get a well-cooked fix.

If you’re well-versed in contemporary horror, Wildling may come off as derivative, but those who aren’t have much to look forward to. It may borrow heavily from genre favorites, but Böhm’s cinematic eye definitely shows promise for the future. Horror technique is tricky on a technical level, but richer characters and atmosphere can work magic for even the most familiar of tropes, and in that respect, Wildling works more than it doesn’t. Time will tell if it can reach cult status, but for both seasoned and easy-to-please filmgoers, there’s bound to be something of value to take away from it.

During the prologue for this Anna Foerster directed effort (she of such TV series as “Outlander” and “Criminal Minds”), the lead character, Selene (Kate Beckinsale, “Love & Friendship”), says that this final installment of the semi-popular series and “Underworld” is (finally) at an end.

Dare to dream, but lo and behold, at the conclusion of this monster monstrosity, if they don’t prime us for another sequel. Well, we will just have to wait and see what the box office is on this one and, hope there are not enough fans of this franchise to demand its eventual renewal.

This film, the fifth (following 2003’s “Underworld,” then “Underworld: Evolution,” “Underworld: Rise of the Lycans,” and “Underworld: Awakening”) features the same hackneyed plot of vampires vs. lycanthropes (or werewolves to the uninitiated) and the girl, Selene, who straddles the fence (a pre-credit cartoon explains it far better than I ever could). It’s basically “Twilight” without the laughs, nuanced storylines, amazing acting performances and complicated, introspective plot complications.

Underworld: Blood Wars is, however, a much, much funnier production than “Masterminds,” “Office Christmas Party” or “Why Him?” (albeit inadvertently) if that means anything. I’m not sure this ridiculous edition can support a plot, but I will do my level best to explain what there is of it. Selene, in a past installment, slept with a lycan (who wouldn’t?) and had a daughter, Eve (who is only seen in short fragments, lucky her), and whom Selene has hidden on the Moon somewhere (I think). She then killed a vampire named “Victor” and has incurred the wrath of the other undead creatures in the Eastern Coven. By the way, in her four “Underworld” films, Selene has probably killed at least 3,424 lycans, vampires and totally innocent bystanders so she’s earned some bad feelings.

The lycans, led by the hunky (are there any other kinds of lycans?) Marius (Tobias Menzies, “Black Sea”), want to locate Eve because she has mixed blood and that will not only bring “peace,” but will supply this picture with its much-needed title. Loyalties turn on a dime here, friends, so pay attention to this next part. And while Selene and her friend, David (Theo James, “The Divergent Series – Allegiant”), are out and about, they are attacked by werewolves and forced to seek shelter at the coven where she killed the aforementioned “Victor.”

No one wants her there, but the creepy Gothic princess, Semira (Lara Pulver, “Edge of Tomorrow”) and her effeminate subordinate, Varga (Bradley James, “Damien” TV series), seem to think she could help train the weak, pasty, underwhelming nosferatu (who seem to have no discernible powers with which to fight wolfmen, plus they burst into flames during the day) for what could possibly be the ultimate showdown between these mythical beings.

Of course, once drawn into the situation, Selene finds herself in trouble again and is forced to retreat to the North Pole and take refuge in the Great Northern Coven, which is populated by blonde, peacenik German models who wrap each other up like mummies and visit the dead, or something like that (my mind began to wander at this point and I am not sure exactly what was going on).

With no reason other than to prolong Underworld: Blood Wars (which already runs 91 minutes more than it should), the lycans attack this fortress, while back at the Eastern Coven, everyone readies for the final battle, with David and his new, bright, shiny sword now in charge. Considering that these two groups are supernatural and mythic creatures, however, it came as a complete surprise to me that they are all susceptible to being stopped by bullet wounds and getting punched in the face — uh, except David and Marius, who get shot and slapped numerous times and just expel the fragments (don’t ask).

This also begs the question, with all of this otherworldly power these folks exhibit, why is the final conflict just a machine gun fight? No stakes through anyone’s heart; no silver bullets? What gives?

One thing that gives, though, is one’s suspension of belief. For example, I could not believe that a franchise which relies so heavy on special effects has absolutely none that could be remotely perceived as well done. When the vampires burst into flames (which they did over an over again) or when the cavemen-like characters turn into werewolves (which they did over and over again), the CGI is so ludicrous, so goofy it’s laughable. With each passing scene, the technology which gave series like “Harry Potter,” “Lord of the Rings,” “Star Wars” and even “Batman,” among others, their respective amazing visual dimensions is mostly and/or completely lacking. I have honestly seen high school film projects with better effects than Underworld: Blood Wars. That being written, I have also viewed grade school pageants with more thoughtful dialogue and deeper character development. Thank you, Cory Goodman (“Priest”).

Same can be said about the acting. Beckinsale, who excelled in “Much Ado About Nothing” two decades ago, gives a one-note performance that makes her appearance in “Whiteout” seem award-worthy by comparison. The others, including longtime British presence Charles Dance (2016’s “Ghostbusters”) and James Faulkner (“The Bank Job”), either cannot or do not even try to save this from circling the drain.

Heck, we’re not even treated to a little campy fun (what with the vampires dressed either in long trench coats or tight black Spandex and werewolves that change back into fully dressed regular people and all) because this mish-mash takes itself so bloody seriously. Therefore, I seriously cannot recommend Underworld: Blood Wars to anyone, anywhere at any time. Ever.

Something similar happened to reality TV, with the difference that it never had any credibility whatsoever. There was a time in which it was extremely popular though, until, of course, it wasn’t. This happened quite quickly, as the fates of spoiled youths or problematic families became, expectedly, more and more tiresome. As happens with every taboo, once it entered the mainstream voyeurism became boring. It rapidly showed that a good voyeur is constant in their looking, but fast in their finishing — and they’re ready to abandon the site as expressly as the site makes them come.

This explains why the whole “what if we put a camera in . . .” premise has become as ubiquitous as it has proven ephemeral. In theory, almost any ending to this idea (“. . . in the mansion of hot heiresses; . . . in the trailer of reckless rednecks; . . . in the hot tub of swirling swingers; . . . in the sacristy of kinky clerics; etc.”) sounds like something that would attract and amuse audiences. In practice, it is boring as hell. Most tropes of reality TV have in consequence become inconsequential, and the gratification that we used to derive from them (i.e., letting our inner voyeur out of the closet) gradually proved too inane to keep our attention for more than three episodes for most of us. The “real world” once promised, wherein “nice people” became “real,” and therefore naughty, just became too real for us to care about.

Such exhaustion provides the perfect breeding broth for satire. Thus we get to the perfect place at which these two exhausted genres collide, the hilarious and roaringly intelligent What We Do in the Shadows (by the way, sorry about so long a detour). New Zealand comedians Jemaine Clement (“Men in Black 3”) and Taika Waititi (director of the very compelling coming-of-age film, “Boy”) teamed to bring a fresh look to two nearly rotten genres. The result is a witty, penetrating and often touching commentary on today’s world.

Viago (Waititi), a 379 year-old vampire who was originally an 18th C. dandy, does his best to keep a tidy household with his three long-time friends and flatmates: Experienced but “a little bit of a pervert” Vladislav (Clement), a medieval, old school 862 year-old vampire; rebellious but kindhearted Deacon (Jonathan Brugh, “How to Meet Girls from a Distance”), a 19th C. peasant turned vampire turned Nazi vampire who fled Germany after they lost the war (“I don’t know if you know”) and who, at 183, is the youngest of the four; and the elder but tired patriarch Petyr (Ben Fransham, “30 Days of Night”), an 8,000 year-old vampire who looks the way the original Nosferatu would look like today.

Other than petit quarrels about neglected responsibilities (like leaving dirty dishes for five years because “vampires don’t do dishes”), they live an organized, steady life, searching for food at night and trying to look nice so as to lure their food source. They, in addition, count on some human help, provided by Deacon’s servant, Jackie (Jackie van Beek), who runs all kinds of errands (mainly their laundry) and occasionally finds victims (out of vindication) upon Deacon’s promise to give her eternal life. But, ten years later, she’s still shifting her responsibilities as a wife and a mother with Deacon’s demands — ten years later she’s still stuck “ironing their fucking frills.” It is through Jackie that Nick (Cori Gonzalez-Macuer) enters the vampires’ guild, as Petyr, out of pity, ends up giving him a gift he didn’t want — thus moving Jackie one step down the ladder. At first, Nick is thrilled with his new “powers,” but he quickly finds out the many quirks and downsides entailed by vampirism (“I cannot even eat a fucking chip”). Through Nick though the vampires meet Stu (Stuart Rutherford), a regular guy who’s neither demon nor vampire nor professional actor — when asked what he is he replies, with all sincerity, “a software analyst.”

The guys are fond of Stu, and that’s mainly why they tolerate Nick’s dumb exhibitionism (“you know the main guy from ‘Twilight?’ that’s me”), which is as irritating as it proves dangerous. It is Stu who introduces the vampires to the many advantages of the modern world and, more specifically, of the world wide web. Google images proves a tailored tool for them to search for virgins and a great source to feed their nostalgic yearn for sunrises.

All this is told by a courageous crew who (wearing crucifixes at all time and having their safety granted by their subjects) went on to document the daily lives of this singular, secret society. It is through them that we have access to all the other “post-deceased” dwelling the streets of Wellington; other vampires, demons, witches, succubae, zombies, and, more importantly, werewolves, with whom vampires have and keep a long-standing feud. This is why they’re left out of the annual masquerade ball that congregates la crème de la crème of the underworld and wherein we meet Vladislav’s nemesis, the one who(?) sucked most of his former power, a being only referred to as “The Beast.”

This crew takes the “what if we put a camera in . . .” premise to its last consequences. And it is phenomenally funny to be able to see the mundane lives of mythical creatures . . . and to see how banal and ultimately boring they are. The unintended consequence of said premise was that it showed that everybody (or anything), insofar as it exists, has an everyday existence. And it proved that everybody’s daily life is, all in all, unexciting. All routines are bound to boredom, particularly for those who do nothing but looking at them. This premise was based (and is still based) on the idea that there are extraordinary people (or ordinary people subjected to extraordinary circumstances) whose everyday lives are worth watching. What the premise ended up bearing out (must convincingly) is that they are not. Not even the amplification, the systematic exaggeration of the ordinary can save these routines from certain humdrum. And that is what keeps us laughing during the entire film.

What We Do in the Shadows confirms that over-ritualization is the key of ridicule. All those menial things we do in life (but that we do every single day), ritualized by the lens of a camera and by the massive transmission of an image, are thereby rendered ridiculous; for we cannot ritualize what is, by definition, ordinary. Most shock jokes wear out very soon in the movie (i.e., how to look good when you don’t have a reflection), and it is only during the third act that the film reaches its full potential as a satire. It is after we have adapted to the vampires’ routines and habits that we are able to see how insignificant these rituals are when they are compared to what really matters to us all: Our close relationships. It is here that the characters become relatable, mainly because they are flawed. Viago, in particular, slowly grows into us mainly because he’s as innocent as he’s mischievous. He’s like a little bear cub who, even though we know it will ineluctably harm us, we want to keep in our backyard. This film largely succeeds because it manages to make you care about the characters (and their relationships) way better than any reality show has managed to do to date.

For some reason What We Do in the Shadows has been regarded more as a mockumentary than as a reality show — even though its tropes correspond much more with the latter than with the former. And not only that, it is presented as a horror found footage film, which is yet another exhausted genre. But the movie doesn’t play those cards. It is presented as if it had been sponsored by the New Zealand Documentary Board, but it doesn’t feel that way.

Perhaps one of the greatest inspirations for this film, Peter Jackson (who, among other things, lent the headquarters of his studio for the exteriors for the vampires’ house) once did that in such a way that he (and co-director, Costa Botes) had to apologize to his audience due to it. The 1995 groundbreaking “Forgotten Silver” was a joke so well-played that many New Zealanders thought they were bearing witness to history in the making: The discovery of a forgotten New Zealand polymath who very much invented almost everything the 20th C. values so much and who did so two or three years before the known inventors did.

This is the sense that documentaries are supposed to give, that we’re watching history in the making. And this is exactly what (good) mockumentaries mock. This is not, however, what What We Do in the Shadows does. Rather, this film shows us what reality TV (unwittingly) discovered: That it can give us the sense that we’re watching mythology in the breaking. And this is what this film gives us: Old, burnt out, exhausted tropes trying their best to live in the real world.

It’s also made clear that Jakob isn’t well-respected in the area, as he’s taunted by a group of bikers for never using his gun. One evening, upon returning home, he finds a package for “Lonely Wolf” waiting for him, and soon after receives a strange phone call from someone asking if he had opened it yet. The caller claims the parcel as his own, and asks Jakob to bring it to him. When Jakob arrives at the meeting location (a dilapidated home, unsurprisingly), he discovers a strange, lanky, wild man in a white dress who extracts a samurai sword from the delivery. This titular samurai (Pit Bukowski) escapes, leaping in front of a moving train and leaving Jakob a bloody pathway to follow on a posted park guide map. He, too, taunts Jakob, yet, at the same time, he tempts Jakob to join him and to release his own dark repressed urges . . .

Written and directed by Till Kleinert, Der Samurai is a strange trip of a horror film — at times darkly hilarious, and at times psychologically troubling. The editing and camerawork are well-executed, with some really great parallels explored between Jakob and the strange man he pursues. Jakob’s journey through the night figuratively and literally changes who he is as the samurai lures him further out of his comfort zone and into his wake of wanton destruction and murder. Jakob claims those killed are innocent victims; the samurai calls them “miscreants” who are holding back from their true purpose — they are “corks” holding in their spirits. The spattering of these village folk are empty placeholders who serve no purpose other than victimization, because Der Samurai is all about Jakob’s cat-and-mouse chase; what’s unclear, however, is which role he truly plays in the game. A game in which the cross-dressing samurai’s smirks and intense stares sharply contrast Jakob’s wide-eyed dedication to protecting his village.

Der Samurai is a movie worth seeing even if you’re convinced you’re over the werewolf horror trope. It has its flaws — the story plods along clumsily in some parts and there is an initial struggle to figure out the central focus of the film — yet there’s merit in the main performances (Bukowski inhabits his role hauntingly well) and overall staging. While there are certainly some odd moments that make you chuckle to yourself — even aside from the ubiquitous samurai beheadings — Kleinert’s short psychological tale is one that demands your attention throughout and remains with you well after the credits begin to roll.

Predictably, the hero of this story is a young man who has the perfect life — Cayden Richards is not only the quarterback of his high school football team, but also has a beautiful girlfriend and the promise of a strong future. All of this is thrown into disarray when Cayden becomes more and more violent for inexplicable reasons, if we ignore the fact that he’s obviously a werewolf. After a particular episode in which he wakes up to find his parents ripped to pieces, he runs away, adopting the life of a nomad as he tries to understand more about himself. Eventually, he encounters another like himself, and is directed to the small town of Lupine Ridge — a town Cayden himself describes as “having secrets.” While one family takes him in, giving him a job and a roof to sleep under, a larger section of the community seem distinctly displeased with his arrival, and the more of the town’s secrets Cayden discovers, the more he learns about his past.

Complete with a romance in the form of Angelina, a spiky young woman caught in a transaction she can’t escape, the film does a good job of keeping its plot moving without seeming chaotic. The inevitable downfall of a YA film is any moment too introspective, allowing us to think a little too much on just what the film is, and so Wolves makes light work of these moments, often following them up with an action sequence set to a classically cool soundtrack. Interestingly, these action scenes are not only entertaining, but also reasonably gruesome, allowing the film to seem slightly grittier and edgier than its vampire-filled counterparts without stepping into the territory of horror. Nevertheless, this element of gore will not be enough to generate interest for an older audience, given the intensely melodramatic vibe running through the film, and the strong focus on the young love between Cayden and Angelina.

The characters themselves are not particularly strong, with Angelina being the only really likable one. She is played well by Merritt Patterson (“Primary”), but is far too underwritten, which frustratingly results in her being little more than a stock female character. Jason Momoa (“Conan the Barbarian”) is criminally underused as resident bad-guy Connor, forced to limit much of his acting to a few drawn out shots in which he looks menacing. Cayden, played by Lucas Till (“X-Men: First Class”), dances the line between being a sympathetic protagonist and simply an annoying one, and he isn’t assisted by the design of the werewolves. Looking less like wolves and more like hairy, fanged versions of their human forms, the werewolves are dangerously close to being comical. While Momoa escapes this fate by being inherently scary, and Patterson manages to bring sex appeal to her wolf form, Till is left often looking like he simply hasn’t shaved for a few months.

The biggest problem with Wolves, however, is that its lack of originality leaves it feeling entirely voiceless. While aspects of it are entertaining, they are almost lost in a sea of triviality, and certainly forgotten by the time we leave the theater. For a film centered around a high school boy who turns into a werewolf one day, it certainly isn’t all bad, but with just a few riskier choices in its screenplay and style, it could have given us a lot more to sink our teeth into.

The Cullen army.

Why is the Twilight series exponentially more popular than the more intriguing “Interview with the Vampire?” Anne Rice’s Louis and Lestat witness history, carry around significant emotional baggage, and speak dialogue worthy of a screenwriter. The Twilight Saga vampires are wooden caricatures, repeat the 12th grade over and over again, and carry on some of the most stunted and underwhelming conversations ever filmed. Teenage vampires must be more accessible to today’s occult audience than older vampires stuck in their 20s for the rest of their lives.

The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2 begins immediately where “The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 1” ended. Bella (Kristen Stewart) wakes up from one of the most intense birthing scenes ever recorded a ruby red-lipped, red-eyed, pale vampire. She sees minute details football fields in front of her, sprints faster than a car, jumps to the tree tops, and lusts after warm blooded creatures, both human and animal. For her first kill, instead of taking out a poor, innocent doe she was tracking, Bella sinks her fangs into what is most likely an endangered mountain lion that was about to feast on said deer. Predator becomes prey, who was once prey is now predator.

The spawn of the previously mentioned birth is the unfortunately named Renesmee (Mackenzie Foy). CGI effects make her look more like Gollum than the half-human, half-vampire she is. She’s got nothing on Kirsten Dunst’s Claudia in the vampire department. Unlike Claudia, however, Renesmee is saddled with Jacob the werewolf protector (Taylor Lautner) who puts off an extremely disturbing vibe that in the future he is going to become much more than just her bodyguard. In an awkward and forced anger scene, Bella kicks the crap out of Jacob for his “imprinting” on her infant daughter as an amused Edward (Robert Pattinson) looks on. At least Jacob as a werewolf looks somewhat believable.

The special effects showing vampires running through the woods (and much of everything else they do), is not so believable. When Bella and Edward are shown in close-up admiring one another while sprinting, they blatantly do not fit in with the passing background (taking the audience right out of the movie experience). Another incongruent element is the advanced rate of Renesmee’s development. She grows six inches every month or so which confuses Bella’s poor father Charlie (Billy Burke). Charlie is written as the dumbest human being alive. Jacob needlessly disrobes in front of him to show him he is a werewolf (fulfilling his mandatory shirtlessness) and Bella tells him she is fine but cannot tell him anything else about herself, even why she looks different. They tell Charlie Resmenee is his adopted niece even though she looks exactly like her mother. Poor Charlie. These Twilight films never give him a chance to be more than a bumbling fool.

Twilight audiences have also been played a fool going through five films now just waiting for something to happen. Is there a payoff to finally be had in The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2? Yes and no. Through a misunderstanding involving Edward’s cousin Irina (Maggie Grace), the ancient vampire leaders known as the Volturi learn of Bella’s child which runs afoul of one of the top three vampire rules. To correct this, Aro (Michael Sheen) and Jane (Dakota Fanning) lead the robed and hooded Italian clan to meet the Cullen clan in the snowy fields of the Pacific Northwest. Michael Sheen purposefully overacts; however, this works since anyone who is as old as he seems to be probably has a few cobwebs in the attic. At least he makes up for monosyllabic Jane who only gets to mumble the word “pain” every now and again.

A red-eyed Bella.

Nothing makes up for Maggie Grace, who proves she is an actress on equal footing of blandness as Kristen Stewart. At least she is the catalyst for the most interesting part of the film — the gathering and introduction of other vampires of the world. It seems globalization has affected blood-suckers as well. A British guy, an Irish family, Transylvanians with corresponding atrocious accents, an Arab, and even a pair of Amazon warriors make their entrance pledging to help the Cullens argue their case to the Volturi lawmakers.

The pay-off comes in the form of two undead armies on opposing sides of a large and open field in the dead of winter ready for battle (vampires are lucky they do not get cold because those scantily clad Amazon warriors would be in trouble). There is a mountain of internet chatter about a twist ending and I will not reveal what happens on this field, other than it is violent, bloody and it works. There are those who are angry and call it a cheap trick, but instead, it is a cleverly written piece which tries, but not does make up for the lazy misunderstanding which brought them all together in the first place.

The Twilight series is now over and while The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2 is not a good movie, it is far better than its three predecessors and matches the first installment which is not that good of a movie either. If you are a teenager, you already saw this movie. Three times. If, however, you have aged past prepubescence, save yourself the two hours and go back and watch the infinitely better “Interview with the Vampire” again.