In New York City, Clary Fray, a seemingly ordinary teenager, learns that she is descended from a line of Shadowhunters — half-angel warriors who protect humanity from evil forces. After her mothe...
City of Bones fantasises about every other YA franchise and unimaginably copies them. “The Twilight Maze Runner: Host of I Am Number Four”. When every fantasy adaptation involving pretty boys, uninspired magic and demonic creatures gets compared to ‘Twilight’, as if it’s the benchmark of young adult films, you just know something is clearly wrong. The Mortal Instruments saga, written by Cassandra Clare who started off writing fan fiction (go figure...), is probably beloved for a reason. I’m not entirely sure what reason that could be, other than quenching the fantasy thirst of prepubescent teenage girls, but heck what do I know.
This adaptation isn’t exactly doing the series any favours, by cramming is as many made up words as possible and hoping the story magically comes together in a conclusive sword fight accompanied by a giant beam lighting up the sky red. Yawn! A “Mundane” who constantly draws an ominous symbol joins a group of “Shadowhunters” at the “Institute” in an attempt to find the “Mortal Cup” which she uncovers by travelling to the “City of Bones” and uncovering her suppressed memory.
Honestly? Much like the editing, my mind was melting. It’s so overstuffed with pure “mundane” fantasy that it felt like enduring a marathon of every other sci-fi/fantasy/young adult flick that preceded this. Werewolves, runes, vampires, dimensional portals, incest, potions, warlocks, an intoxicated Rhys Meyers, demons, witches and yet another ridiculously forced love triangle just so that little girls can shout “I ship them!”. When the plot isn’t overwhelmed by exposition and backstory, which infuriatingly is pretty much two hours of the runtime, there are a few scenes that held my attention. The conclusive “save New York City from demons” scenario for example, although repetitious in other cinematic marvels, demonstrated the various strained elements cohesively coming together. Don’t get me wrong, it’s all undercooked and the stakes are as raw as Bower’s acting abilities. But the visual effects extravaganza was fine to watch, I s’pose.
British actors were putting on American accents and vice versa. The hint of the ol’ Irish charm was scattered throughout, and Pounder was more peri peri than reggae with her questionable Jamaican accent. The main thing is that everyone looks drop dead gorgeous, the world is saved and they all live happily ever after in their beautifully youthful skin.
Who cares for mediocrity when you can serve rubbish like this instead! If you like young adult stuff that thinks it’s going to be the start of a successful franchise but instantly flops. Great. If you yearn for something abit more, y’know...substantial in life. Move along. City of Bones pretty much crumbles from the first mention of “Mundane”.
