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Based on the
fantasy novels by Cassandra Clare and containing elements familiar to anyone
who has ever seen a film dealing with vampires or werewolves or witches or
teenagers, or all of the above, the past few years, Mortal Instruments: City of
Bones is below-par, even in the much-derided genre of romantic supernatural
thrillers.
Of course,
as with all these kinds of films, it's all about teenage angst and the feeling
of not fitting in, and our protagonist has to grow up very quickly when she
learns of her supernatural lineage and is forced to confront the demons within
and without.
"She"
is Clary Fray (Lily Collins), but while her mother - a woman with immense
powers who wanted to save her little girl by not telling her a single thing,
thereby putting her precious life in danger because she is wholly ignorant of
and unprepared for the impending doom - certainly doesn't help her deal with
the strange, perilous world she encounters, she does have backup: the
Shadowhunters, who fight evil most people don't even see. But since most people
are not affected by these spirits, the importance of these creatures is
somewhat undermined as they seem to be wholly separate from the lives of people
in the "real" world.
The most
significant point about the Shadowhunters is that they all speak British and
that Clary is somehow special because - even though she is a Shadowhunter
herself - she speaks American English. We are never given any explanation why
the filmmakers chose to have the underworld speak British (is it the age-old
stereotype that it somehow sounds more elevated?), but it is obvious Clary
stands out against this background, even though her own character is barely
developed.
Apparently
any notion of development goes flying out the window when there is supernatural
romance in the air. Mortal Instruments doesn't only settle on one romance, but
gives most of its characters raging hormones in the vain hope it may lead to
tension between them and sympathy from the audience.
The plot is
minimal, considering the movie runs well past the two-hour mark. The young
Clary keeps drawing one symbol that she has never seen before and cannot
explain what it means or why she is suddenly so obsessed with it. Her mother
notices the mark (or rune) and recognizes it but doesn't want to talk to her
daughter about it. This silence inevitably leads to the mother being confronted
by demons from the underworld who want her daughter and the elusive
"Mortal Cup," so desired by their master, the archvillain Valentine
(Jonathan Rhys-Myers), for world domination or something.
Clary's best
friend, Simon (Robert Sheehan), has a crush on her so big she is the only
person in the world who doesn't notice it, and he will spend the rest of the
running time vying for her attention against the much more aggressive and
charming onslaught of the Shadowhunter named Jace (Jamie Campbell Bower).
This is
light years - or rather, multiple dimensions - removed from the apex of
director Harald Zwart's career. His 2001 film One Night at McCool's, a black
comedy that used the old but always interesting Rashomon approach of telling
the same story from multiple perspectives, was absolutely glorious, even more
so because it was a surprise that Liv Tyler, whom one doesn't often associate
with high-value entertainment (her brief stint in The Lord of the Rings films
notwithstanding), had such a commanding, winning role in the film.
In the case
of Mortal Instruments: City of Bones, a title that explicitly hints at a sequel
but is only very loosely tied to its material (the titular City of Bones plays
a very small role indeed), the only comedy is of the unintended variety, such
as a kissing scene in which light suddenly floods the frame and the camera
starts to twirl around the figures as if intoxicated by their lust. At another
point, poor Clary falls on top of Jace, with her sensitive "best
friend" Simon a few short feet away, and as Jace and Clary stare into each
other's eyes, Simon does nothing. He is in fact so unimportant to Zwart that he
is even visually sidelined, lest he ruin this laughably soppy moment of sugary
corn.
Zwart takes
the romance way too seriously and shows no sign of realizing how middling his
material actually is. The one plot point that will have the audience in
stitches concerns the musician Johann Sebastian Bach. If you saw Abraham
Lincoln: Vampire Hunter last year, you should know what to expect.
The mother,
whom Clary has to thank for not being prepared at all to confront this whole
new world of the supernatural, is downright dull, because she is so incredibly
passive and doesn't recognize the danger she is putting her only daughter in.
When she lies in a coffin, her lips still pouting away, we cannot help but
snicker. She had it coming.
Toward the
end of the film, Clary uses her powers to clean her apartment instead of doing
the work manually. At this point, we have to shake our head in exasperation at
the utter wasteland of character development. I suppose this will be the first
and the last.
