Netflix’s recent adaptation of Leigh Bardugo’s Grishaverse novel Shadow and Bone features a stunning fantastical world that evokes its dystopian predecessors (The Hunger Games, Divergent, etc.). The story follows an orphaned cartographer named Alina Starkov who realizes that she has the ability to manipulate the power of the sun during a catastrophic expedition through the Shadow Fold—an area of unfathomable darkness populated by screeching humanoids. Her ability is key to destroying the Shadow Fold, which divides the kingdom of Ravka in two, while breeding ill-will and dissent between subjects and rival kingdoms alike. Alina Starkov’s story follows clichés of the dystopian genre, as she is an unremarkable and unwilling heroine who defies oppressive powers and grapples with the predicament of having to choose between two attractive men.
The adaptation opens with Alina’s childhood best friend and love interest, Mal Oretsev, being tasked with crossing the Shadow Fold for a military mission. Alina, in her desperation to accompany him on the mission, burns the maps to the other side of the Fold, forcing her cartography unit to tag along the ill-fated crossing. Alina’s attachment to Mal reduces her to a naïve character, constantly motivated and compelled by her desire to impress or save her love interest without a personal agenda of her own. Her overt focus on romance paints her as a weak and unconvincing heroine.
As a literary adaptation, Shadow and Bone stays relatively faithful to its literary counterpart, albeit with slight changes and a shortened timeline. Unfaithfully, the adaptation incorporates characters from Bardugo’s Six of Crows series, which features a crew of elite thieves set in the same fantastical universe. The addition of interweaving timelines between the story of Alina Starkov and the Six of Crows expands upon the geographical and cultural complexity central to Bardugo’s Grishaverse.
The Crows, mismatched and idiosyncratic in their faith, nationality, and agenda, create mystery, intrigue, and moral ambiguity that is compelling to viewers. However, the quick pace of the adaptation as well as the introduction of multiple protagonists is bound to be disorienting to viewers unfamiliar with the written series.
The show’s heavy use of neologisms and its plethora of imaginary geographical settings is perplexing and difficult to grasp at first glance. Considering the time constraint of the eight episodes allocated for the first season, the lackluster world-building of Shadow and Bone is justifiable. Yet, it would be conducive to first-time viewers to dedicate more time towards the world of the Grishaverse as Netflix renews the show for its second season.
Ever since its release, the depiction of diversity within Shadow and Bone has been a topic of debate. The controversy arises from the racebending of Alina Starkov, a white Ravkan in the novel, who becomes half Shu (a nation based on China) in the Netflix show. In the adaptation, Alina’s struggle with her appearance and isolation is amplified by the endurance of daily, racist abuse from everyone around her. Alina is notably mocked as a “rice eater” by her peers while a servant suggests that they could modify her eyes to make them “less Shu.”
In a brief scene, viewers can also catch a glimpse of a full-blown racist caricature, undoubtedly based on East Asian stereotypes. This sprinkling of fantastical racism is jarring and uncomfortable to watch, especially as it is added to augment and dramatize Alina’s isolation from her peers. It must be noted that the adaptation never delves deeper into Alina’s Shu heritage beyond overt references to her physical features and juvenile name-calling. She never expresses any other conflict of identities such as a clash of culture, history, and tradition, which is common amongst Asian descendants.
Alina’s depiction follows the typical pattern of on-screen diversity, where her heritage only serves as a source of pain and isolation. While Alina’s solitude fades away with the discovery and control of her power in the novel, her racial insecurities cannot be brushed away with magical powers. Similarly, the racism faced by people of East Asian descent does not have a simple solution. While the adaptation strives to address racial issues in contemporary society, the racebending of its white protagonist seems to be a shallow move to incorporate diversity while failing to address the implications of such a change and how Alina might grapple with her Shu heritage.
