After the delight of the show’s previous chapter, “How Are Thou Fallen” had all the right ingredients to succeed, but some of its key measurements were wrong. It left an underwhelming pile of could-have-been that ultimately failed to rise.
Luke, Clary, and Cleophas (John Medland/Freeform)
Cleophas made a bid to rejoin Valentine’s ranks after murdering Sister Magdalena, then played victim to lure Clary to him – and Luke, our dear King, was not having a bar of it. Clary devised a plan to flush out her intentions, and I’m really enjoying how this show has injected her with just the right amount of jaded to enable her to see a snake for what it is. Smart Clary is a Clary I can root for, and Kat McNamara gives her a nice edge of cynicism that I am thoroughly enjoying.
Luke’s casual mention to Valentine of Jocelyn’s death and Valentine’s non-existent reaction confirmed he already knew. After all of his yapping about his devotion to her last season, I was waiting to see what kind of chaos he’d unleash when he learned the demon he sent to the Institute inadvertently murdered her in the process – but the show seems to have killed her off and drop-kicked any outstanding mileage the story may have had. Instead of the show concentrating and delivering a few full-fleshed story threads, the amount of plots currently in play are nudging interesting opportunities we really wanted to see into the ether. If the show doesn’t care, how are we supposed to?
Valentine needed lightning to activate the sword. Which is why everyone at the end of the episode was on the rooftop. ‘Cause there was a storm, with lightning. It took me two viewings of this episode to understand any of this, which is a testament to the inconsistency of the episode’s pace and how it wasted almost half of its allocated time showcasing the rituals of dumb frat boys. It wasn’t what I should have been concentrating on, and their scenes numbed my brain so much that when it came time to actually absorb necessary story information, I forgot it was a thing I needed to do.
The rooftop fight scene was flashy, though it needed faster cutting to really nail that urgency. Ithuriel (Alec Stockwell) had a beautiful, weathered face full of wisdom, sadness, and stories. He didn’t say a word all episode, but I felt connected to him. Watching Valentine drag him like a chained animal was painful, and learning Clary’s splitting headaches were the result of his terrified cries for help absolutely broke my heart.
I’ve been waiting to see Simon and Jace bond on-screen, but I’ll be honest – what we got left me bored enough to pick up my phone for a round of Candy Crush. Dominic Sherwood failed to meet a believably casual tone, and his delivery was often stilted and forced. Alberto Rosende did a rather accurate impression of Jace’s shape-shifted Simon – he looked constipated, and his expression was reminiscent of Joey Tribbianni’s ‘smell the fart’ acting. And did I really have to watch some random girl waste 10 seconds of the episode by typing her number into Jace’s phone, digit by painstaking digit? When Magnus and Alec weren’t allowed two more seconds to clarify to the audience that they were both into the plan of having sex for the first time?
Magnus and Alec (John Medland/Freeform)
On the topic of Malec, their big moment felt realistic – just not in a way we would have envisioned. Magnus and Alec are not new to these types of conversations. Their weekly structure consists of an obstacle to tackle that gets wrapped up with a heart-to-heart. Here, Magnus was clearly warring with some personal insecurities and needed that reassurance they consistently give each other, but Alec was so busy in his own head trying not to overthinking things that he stumbled over it completely in favor of getting laid. I have no issue with this – characters are allowed to be so damn nervous about sleeping with the hottest guy in the city they can’t think straight. It’s how it was presented.
I’ve been waiting to cheer for Alec’s sexual empowerment, but it was hard to throw my fist in the air when Magnus came off less, “Hell, yeah, I’m in,” and more, “Well, sure, if you want.” Magnus’ consent was indeed there in his returned kiss, but it was so blink-and-miss that it really needed more time to make it clearer. The show still can’t seem to push Malec’s story time per episode beyond the five-minute mark. No one is asking for Shadowhunters to be The Malec Show (though if it was, it would have a dedicated audience), but is it really so hard to give them a little more space to exist? Jace and Simon had all the time in the world to play pick-up at the bar. Magnus had more breathing room in his scene with Maia. Alec had the same – with Jace and Isabelle. But when the two were actually allowed to be in the same frame, the episode couldn’t wait to get it over with. Why? Maybe if the director had spent less time on side-boob and had given Magnus a chance to nod, their final scene of the hour would have ended on a better note. It’s so frustrating to think of how easily this could have been presented better.
Something was in the water this week because the performances were a little flat across the board. As already mentioned, Dominic Sherwood, who has been absolutely knocking it out of the park all season, missed the right notes in depicting Jace’s careless playboy ways. Dom’s performances positively sing when he’s acting from the heart, but it tends to flounder when he’s acting from the belt.
Harry Shum Jr. has proven time and time again that he is very capable of wearing Magnus Bane like a designer suit, but opposite Matthew this week, I didn’t believe him as much as I usually do. Which kills me. I know he had one better in him, and it’s unfortunate that he wasn’t pushed or given the time to get there. Matthew Daddario keeps nailing Alec’s adorable awkwardness and guarded business attitude, but he also suffered to run the full mile in a few key moments opposite Harry. Their interrupted kiss was framed so closely that you could see the moment their natural chemistry dropped into awkward camera awareness. The kisses on the balcony were a little robotic like both were trying to touch as little as possible, and I don’t know what happened in the editing room, but their final scene read less like a conversation and more like listed bullet points. They tried to redeem themselves; boy, did they try. Those final kisses were absolutely dizzying. But this was an episode that was crucial for Malec, and it just didn’t quite meet its usual effortless charm.
Emeraude Toubia was a standout this episode. Though not without its controversy, Isabelle’s darker, more stressful storyline is pushing Emeraude’s acting into some interesting corners, and the results actually make me want to stick it out and see where she ends up. I felt her nervousness like my own as the panic of being left hanging set in. The show’s continued willingness to stretch its limbs in uncomfortable places is provoking a deeper level of interest from me, and it’s making the writing each week delightfully unpredictable. Calling it quits with Clary? Lying to Magnus’ face? Subtly suggesting Simon bite her? Where will this hot mess go next?
Maia (John Medland/Freeform)
Also giving the rest of the cast a run for their money, Alisha Wainwright has an organic breeziness about her that gives Maia a charisma and likability that was always missing from her book counterpart and I find myself falling a little more every time she takes the screen. The camera loves her, and her presence seems to light up her scene partners. She’s a great addition to the show’s guest stars. Fine, I’ll admit it. I love Maia Roberts. Goddammit.
Director Ben “Boxer” Bray clustered together the right combination of shots for each scene, but it felt a little empty in its textbook execution. There was a confidence in his action scenes despite a need for tighter editing, a curiosity behind the story-driving of the episode, and a clear enjoyment of Simon and Jace’s scenes because he let them go way too long. Concerning, however, was how Jace’s naked rolling around felt voyeuristic and perversely male-serving, while the importance of the subject matter regarding Magnus and Alec’s interactions this week simply wasn’t accounted for. Malec’s scenes are always filmed with an affectionate gaze, a blanket snugness the audience can slide into, and its notable absence was jilting. I don’t think the director quite knew what to do with them.
Writer Hollie Overton is usually a skilled technician in storytelling, but this script missed a surprising number of beats. The prioritization and allocation of time to the hour’s individual parts affected the flow of the story. Some of the conversations this episode felt like chunks were missing. I can only assume the script was fuller and cut down for time. It’s a true shame because I know Hollie’s writing is better than this. Either she had an off week like everyone else or her script was massacred and left to die on the cutting room floor.
There was an overall lack of flow between script, direction, and cast this week – something didn’t gel here and it showed like a gaping wound. Magnus and Alec getting the equivalent of a fade-to-black was a bit of a slap for a show – and network – that likes to pat itself on the back about its LGBT representation. For what it’s worth, I choose to believe it was a tactic to end the episode with a sense of anticipation for the next. After all, it’s only one chapter in a greater timeline. Unfortunately, the wholly gratuitous nature of Jace and his porn-level bedmate offered an unnerving comparison, and it looked a lot like the tired, continued censorship of LGBT content often seen in this industry. By all means, future episodes could throw Malec in the same boat, and many are ready for them to receive the equal treatment. But in the grand scheme of this episode, one of these was not like the other, and it put this show’s long-touted line about inclusivity and equality under great skepticism.
Despite my many qualms with this episode, it wasn’t bad. The score was more epic than it had any right to be. Some moments had me watching with bated breath. God help me, Climon was happening and I didn’t hate it. Clary’s starting to look at Simon in a different way, and with another woman now vying for his attention, she’s feeling adorably possessive. But after all he’s sacrificed – mostly because of her – she wants her most precious person to be happy. “How Are Thou Fallen” just needed more thought, more diligence; some fresh eyes to tighten the bolts.
I’m ready and willing to see what happens next.
Shadowhunters airs Mondays 8/7c on Freeform, and Tuesdays internationally on Netflix.
