Mortal Instruments: City of Bones
I'm in work on a half day today and itching to get out of here. But I've got three hours to go. So, I'll fill it in with a film review.
As a note, this review contains spoilers for Mortal Instruments: City of Bones, so if you really want to be surprised, astonished, and aghast at everything in this film, don't read this review. And don't say I didn't want you.
So, last night I went to see Mortal Instruments: City of Bones. And, as expected, it was awful. And, as also hoped for, it was glorious. It was amazing. I've never seen a film with so little originality. Every single element of the story appeared to have been lifted wholesale from another fantasy epic, from Star Wars onwards, hung together on the washing line of Campbell's Hero's Journey, with a Mary Sue plonked in the middle of it all.
Clary (the heroine) is a normal girl living in Brooklyn, when she discovers she's actually special. She's really a Shadow Hunter (to be said in sonorous tones, finishing up with dum DUM duuuuum), who are half human, half angel, created from a magic cup produced by the angel Raziel, but sticking to no religion because being founded by an angel doesn't make you inclined towards favouring the Abrahamic religions at all. But she's not just an ordinary special magical demon hunter (as opposed to the patronisingly named 'mundanes'). No, she's a extra-special and sparkly demon hunter, who does things that the demon hunters cannot do, and also screams and runs about in a particularly brave fashion. Or at least, that's what the love interest demon hunter says. The sensible gay demon hunter (and I will say this for the film - it at least throws in a couple of gay characters, even if they are kind of stereotypical. One is manly and tragic and gets eaten by demons. The other wears a lot of eyeliner and flounces a bit) says she's troublesome and will get them all killed. He has a point.
Anyway, the super special heroine turns out to be the only person who knows where the mcguffin sparkly magical cup of POWER is hidden, although she doesn't know she knows, and so everyone needs to run around with her while she figures it out. She meets werewolves (who improve the film slightly) and vampires (who don't), a witch who's house looks like a new age tat shop and a mage who doesn't wear trousers and owns what looks like a fetish dressing gown.
She also gets slowly more goth as she grows into her powers, which apparently include being able to put thigh high boots on in under thirty seconds and the ability to run in stilettos. There is no good reason given for this at all, leading me to suspect that all magic is powered entirely by black nail polish and eyeliner. The more you wear, the more powerful you become. Well, that and the spells in AD&D. Look, it makes about as much sense as anything else in this film.
Yet despite all of this, I found myself growing strangely fond of the film. It might be its earnestness and eagerness to please. It might be quite sweet chemistry between the leads. Or it might just be because it's a pastiche of every single trashy fantasy epic I've ever read, and so felt like putting on a pair of comfy slippers and settling down in front of the fire.
Either way, although I laughed out loud at bits most of it, I found myself in a surprisingly good mood as I came out of the other end of it. And what more can you say about a movie?
As a note, this review contains spoilers for Mortal Instruments: City of Bones, so if you really want to be surprised, astonished, and aghast at everything in this film, don't read this review. And don't say I didn't want you.
So, last night I went to see Mortal Instruments: City of Bones. And, as expected, it was awful. And, as also hoped for, it was glorious. It was amazing. I've never seen a film with so little originality. Every single element of the story appeared to have been lifted wholesale from another fantasy epic, from Star Wars onwards, hung together on the washing line of Campbell's Hero's Journey, with a Mary Sue plonked in the middle of it all.
Clary (the heroine) is a normal girl living in Brooklyn, when she discovers she's actually special. She's really a Shadow Hunter (to be said in sonorous tones, finishing up with dum DUM duuuuum), who are half human, half angel, created from a magic cup produced by the angel Raziel, but sticking to no religion because being founded by an angel doesn't make you inclined towards favouring the Abrahamic religions at all. But she's not just an ordinary special magical demon hunter (as opposed to the patronisingly named 'mundanes'). No, she's a extra-special and sparkly demon hunter, who does things that the demon hunters cannot do, and also screams and runs about in a particularly brave fashion. Or at least, that's what the love interest demon hunter says. The sensible gay demon hunter (and I will say this for the film - it at least throws in a couple of gay characters, even if they are kind of stereotypical. One is manly and tragic and gets eaten by demons. The other wears a lot of eyeliner and flounces a bit) says she's troublesome and will get them all killed. He has a point.
Anyway, the super special heroine turns out to be the only person who knows where the mcguffin sparkly magical cup of POWER is hidden, although she doesn't know she knows, and so everyone needs to run around with her while she figures it out. She meets werewolves (who improve the film slightly) and vampires (who don't), a witch who's house looks like a new age tat shop and a mage who doesn't wear trousers and owns what looks like a fetish dressing gown.
She also gets slowly more goth as she grows into her powers, which apparently include being able to put thigh high boots on in under thirty seconds and the ability to run in stilettos. There is no good reason given for this at all, leading me to suspect that all magic is powered entirely by black nail polish and eyeliner. The more you wear, the more powerful you become. Well, that and the spells in AD&D. Look, it makes about as much sense as anything else in this film.
Yet despite all of this, I found myself growing strangely fond of the film. It might be its earnestness and eagerness to please. It might be quite sweet chemistry between the leads. Or it might just be because it's a pastiche of every single trashy fantasy epic I've ever read, and so felt like putting on a pair of comfy slippers and settling down in front of the fire.
Either way, although I laughed out loud at bits most of it, I found myself in a surprisingly good mood as I came out of the other end of it. And what more can you say about a movie?