Having already seen 'Mirrors', I could not enter into 'Mirrors 2' without some degree of hesitancy. Was I really willing to subject myself to what was bound to be blatant misappropriation of film equipment for a second time? Perhaps I was being naïve then, when I decided to watch it anyway. "What questionable antics must the team behind this movie engage in for it to be more abominable than the disastrously substandard 'Mirrors' before it?", I thought to myself as I hit 'play' button with a tentative prod.
The movie starts off, and regularly intervenes with, a psychologist discussing mental health issues with the main character, using Freud's pseudo-scientific explanations for mental illness, which sums up this whole movie if I'm honest. Compared to the logically void and seemingly parodic plot of the first movie, the sequel at least made some feigned attempts at what could be a coherent and passable storyline. Even so, the plot is still weak and prone to extensive clichés, leaving us with a story that is as predictable, if not more so, than upcoming calendar dates.
This is, of course, the movie's hubris, as what might first appear to be your cookie-cutter horror techniques, soon become an endless knell of poorly executed and overused horror archetypes that abandon the viewer in a decidedly calculable experience that removes all effect the cheap shock-moments and persistently low-grade gore might have had. The shock- moments were notably lessened by the fact that you could see their approach from a mile off, due to the dependably occurring application of camera-panning to and from mirrors, just before something appears in them. It is, after all, very hard to be surprised by something you know is about to happen. Impossible, perhaps, would be a better word.
Aside from the abhorrent plot, this movie seems to have inherited many of the downfalls its predecessor claimed ownership of. The acting throughout was sub-par and, once again, the script was more pertaining to the level of a ten year old's English assignment than it was a professionally executed endeavour. One actor whose sheer theatrical incompetence must not go unnoticed is a certain Emmanuelle Vaugier, who played the part of Elizabeth Reigns, the resident eye-candy who filled up the "woman with problem who needs a man to help her solve it" position that was in such dire need of occupancy. I'd like to say that her apparently terrible performance could be assigned causality due to the lackluster script, or perhaps the undeniably bland role she was given, but even taking all of that into consideration, I feel there is no excuse for the less than half-hearted realisation of her character. I'd like to say that even one of the characters gave a convincing and inspirational performance; however I am not graced with such an opportunity, nor do I wish to lie to you. Even Christy Carlson Romano's senseless and unnecessary breast exposure could not provide a superficial saving grace for this poorly executed movie.
To conclude, I'd like to make the point that whilst this movie is not necessarily worse than the first movie (which is a remarkably formidable achievement in itself), it is most certainly as shoddy. I daresay I struggled to find any good points about this movie, except maybe for the singular assertion that if you are someone who enjoys obnoxiously regurgitated horror maxims interlaced with bursts of depressingly foreseeable shock moments, then perhaps you might find this movie even somewhat bearable. For the general population however, of whom I still have a slight inkling of faith in, this is one to avoid as much as the first one was. For a sequel that merely mirrored the mistakes of its forerunner, this gets a reflectively familiar two out of ten.
The movie starts off, and regularly intervenes with, a psychologist discussing mental health issues with the main character, using Freud's pseudo-scientific explanations for mental illness, which sums up this whole movie if I'm honest. Compared to the logically void and seemingly parodic plot of the first movie, the sequel at least made some feigned attempts at what could be a coherent and passable storyline. Even so, the plot is still weak and prone to extensive clichés, leaving us with a story that is as predictable, if not more so, than upcoming calendar dates.
This is, of course, the movie's hubris, as what might first appear to be your cookie-cutter horror techniques, soon become an endless knell of poorly executed and overused horror archetypes that abandon the viewer in a decidedly calculable experience that removes all effect the cheap shock-moments and persistently low-grade gore might have had. The shock- moments were notably lessened by the fact that you could see their approach from a mile off, due to the dependably occurring application of camera-panning to and from mirrors, just before something appears in them. It is, after all, very hard to be surprised by something you know is about to happen. Impossible, perhaps, would be a better word.
Aside from the abhorrent plot, this movie seems to have inherited many of the downfalls its predecessor claimed ownership of. The acting throughout was sub-par and, once again, the script was more pertaining to the level of a ten year old's English assignment than it was a professionally executed endeavour. One actor whose sheer theatrical incompetence must not go unnoticed is a certain Emmanuelle Vaugier, who played the part of Elizabeth Reigns, the resident eye-candy who filled up the "woman with problem who needs a man to help her solve it" position that was in such dire need of occupancy. I'd like to say that her apparently terrible performance could be assigned causality due to the lackluster script, or perhaps the undeniably bland role she was given, but even taking all of that into consideration, I feel there is no excuse for the less than half-hearted realisation of her character. I'd like to say that even one of the characters gave a convincing and inspirational performance; however I am not graced with such an opportunity, nor do I wish to lie to you. Even Christy Carlson Romano's senseless and unnecessary breast exposure could not provide a superficial saving grace for this poorly executed movie.
To conclude, I'd like to make the point that whilst this movie is not necessarily worse than the first movie (which is a remarkably formidable achievement in itself), it is most certainly as shoddy. I daresay I struggled to find any good points about this movie, except maybe for the singular assertion that if you are someone who enjoys obnoxiously regurgitated horror maxims interlaced with bursts of depressingly foreseeable shock moments, then perhaps you might find this movie even somewhat bearable. For the general population however, of whom I still have a slight inkling of faith in, this is one to avoid as much as the first one was. For a sequel that merely mirrored the mistakes of its forerunner, this gets a reflectively familiar two out of ten.