I knew this was a horror movie going in, but I have to admit that the first couple of minutes almost made me rethink my decision. On the other hand, I couldn’t watch Tropic Thunder. I can’t trust Ben Stiller anymore after his last debacle. So Mirrors it was, a remake of a Korean horror film, as so many of them seem to be these days. It turned out to be all right, though — except for the first part, and a couple of creepy, jump-in-your-seat moments later, it really wasn’t all that scary. Maybe I’m building up more of a tolerance at last.
Anyway, Kiefer Sutherland, who I haven’t seen since Dark City (or Phone Booth, if you want to count a flick where he only shows up for ten seconds), is suspended cop Ben Carson. After accidentally shooting a fellow cop during an undercover operation, he’s been wrestling with nightmares, drinking too much, and helping his marriage break up. Wife Amy (Paula Patton) is apparently some sort of medical examiner for the police department, though I’m not too sure about that — I understand wanting to dress in a feminine way even on the job, but she’s kind of overdoing it. I kept expecting to learn that she worked as a high-class escort on the side. And their two kids, Michael and Daisy, are properly adorable and danger-prone.
Now sober for three months, Ben takes a job as night watchman at a burned-out husk of a department store. It actually looks like it should be either an art museum or a tourist attraction in Rome, but it’s a department store. The previous night watchman was obsessed with the mirrors, which the designers felt compelled to hang on every vertical surface for some reason. And some of them are HUGE. Imagine walking around with only a flashlight to see by, the mannequins still set up and those mirrors reflecting every shadow and movement, and you can see where those creepy moments come from. You can’t fault the atmosphere.
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| The mirror gives Kiefer a hand — or maybe it’s the other way around. |
So predictably, the mirrors start acting up and that’s when all the gross stuff starts happening. I mean really, seriously disgusting. At least the helicopter blades are quick — this flick had one of the most horribly drawn out death scenes ever, and I’m sorry I saw the little bits I did see before I had to cover my eyes. The point is the mirrors want something, and they want it bad, and they’re not above imperiling the wife and the adorable little kids to get it. And since Ben’s house, which he’s now not living in, contains 43 mirrors and 12,000 other randomly reflective surfaces, you can see the potential problems.
The movie doesn’t exactly end so much as just stop, but I didn’t fuss because by then I was pretty ready for it to end. Two and a quarter idols — I’m not quite sure what the quarter-idol is for, but two just seemed a little low, and I have nothing against Kiefer. I’ve finally decided it wasn’t just a horror movie, but a morality play, warning against the dangers of admiring your own reflection for too long.