The most receptive audience will mainly be enlightened to know that you can make a movie as thoroughly unprofessional as this one and still get it released in 3,000 theaters.
Pic is hermetically sealed in a synthetic wrapping that's so total -- Sony's top-flight high-def cameras, visibly low-budget CG work, exceptionally hackneyed and imitative action and dialogue --that it arrives a nearly lifeless film.
It's not bad enough to be funny, but it's not without its moments. Most of those come when Jovovich, not the best with a catch-phrase, answers some challenge with a put-down she should have practiced more in between personal trainer sessions.
The tale, beginning with narrated flashbacks that make it curiously seem like a sequel, essentially is an excuse for a seemingly endless series of ultraviolet, uh, ultraviolent, action scenes.
Ultraviolet wants desperately to be a provocative, high-concept action thriller. It is apparently trying to say something about fear and terrorism, paranoia and racism. But it looks more like a shampoo commercial.
The repetition of the action scenes play like an avant-garde joke about the indistinguishable nature of Hollywood fight scenes. Think Warhol's soup cans, only with actors posing with swords.
Give us a superhero movie that has a female protagonist that's a real character with emotions, and personality, and not just some model performing stunts and running around in skimpy outfits.