Reflections on Regret
There are horror movies that make you afraid to look in the mirror, and then there’s Look Away — a film that just makes you afraid you’ll die of boredom before your reflection blinks. Written and directed by Assaf Bernstein, this 2018 Canadian psychological horror-drama dares to ask, “What if your reflection came to life and… had better social skills?” It’s Black Swan meets Mean Girls, except everyone’s been tranquilized and the mirror has a union contract.
The premise — shy girl swaps places with her evil mirror twin — should drip with menace. Instead, it drips with melodrama, fake blood, and the general feeling that everyone involved watched Carrie once and thought, “We could do that, but with less talent.”
The Girl Who Stared Too Long
Maria Brennan (India Eisley) is your classic horror archetype: the quiet, awkward teen who walks around like she’s auditioning for a Lana Del Rey music video. She’s bullied at school, ignored at home, and secretly pines for her best friend’s boyfriend — because originality is for people who’ve seen other movies.
Her father, Dan (Jason Isaacs), is a plastic surgeon obsessed with physical perfection, which conveniently gives the film its subtlety of a rhinoplasty ad. He even offers Maria a “birthday present” in the form of cosmetic surgery. Nothing says “I love you, daughter” quite like suggesting a new nose. Mira Sorvino, playing her depressive mother Amy, floats through the movie looking like she’s wondering why she ever agreed to this script.
Maria’s only real friend is Lily (Penelope Mitchell), who spends her screen time gaslighting, mocking, and abandoning her — you know, friendship. Eventually, Maria finds comfort where all broken protagonists go: the bathroom mirror, the natural habitat of cinematic trauma.
Mirror, Mirror, Who’s the Murderer?
One day, her reflection moves independently. Enter Airam (which, in a burst of creative brilliance, is “Maria” backward). Airam is everything Maria isn’t: confident, seductive, and completely devoid of impulse control. She also has the voice of someone who’s been chain-smoking empowerment speeches.
After Maria’s prom humiliation — which plays out like a rejected Degrassi subplot — Airam takes over. And by “takes over,” I mean she glares menacingly at the camera, applies eyeliner, and starts murdering people with the enthusiasm of someone ticking boxes on a to-do list.
Her first victim is Mark, the school bully, who gets his knee shattered and skull bludgeoned in the locker room — a scene that might have been shocking if the editing didn’t look like it was done with garden shears. Next comes Lily, whose ice-skating accident is supposed to be tragic but plays out like a deleted scene from Blades of Glory: The Murder Cut.
Airam Unleashed (or, “We Tried a Villain Arc”)
With the personality of a vengeful perfume ad, Airam struts through Maria’s life like she owns it, smoking, drinking, seducing, and generally acting like a walking Hot Topic mannequin. She even hooks up with Sean, Lily’s boyfriend and Maria’s long-term crush, because apparently killing Lily wasn’t enough drama for the week.
Their motel scene is supposed to ooze erotic tension but lands somewhere between awkward and felony. When Sean receives a phone call from the police and starts to leave, Airam whacks him with a vodka bottle, proving that the film’s commitment to clichés is stronger than its understanding of gravity.
By this point, the movie has lost all sense of pacing, logic, or shame. It vacillates between slasher flick, family tragedy, and daytime soap opera. It’s like Psycho if Norman Bates had a TikTok.
Daddy Issues and the Dead Twin Twist
If you thought the movie couldn’t get dumber, you’d be wrong. Look Away decides to explain its mirror demon with the least subtle twist imaginable: Maria once had a deformed twin sister who was murdered by her father at birth. Because of course she did. Nothing says “psychological depth” like a backstory stolen from a Lifetime movie about postpartum regret.
In a sequence that’s equal parts horrifying and hilarious, Airam confronts her father — naked, naturally — demanding to know if he’d still love her if she were deformed. It’s supposed to be a searing indictment of parental vanity; it feels more like a therapy session directed by Tommy Wiseau. When Dan answers “yes,” Airam rewards him by slitting his throat with a scalpel. Symbolism!
Mira Sorvino, Please Call Your Agent
Mira Sorvino, an Oscar winner, spends most of the film wandering in silk pajamas and whispering “Maria?” like she’s auditioning for a haunted antidepressant commercial. Her character’s depression is treated with all the nuance of a paint roller. She has recurring birth nightmares, because subtle metaphors are for better movies, and finally collapses into bed just in time for the finale — where her daughters, living and dead, reunite in an emotional moment that’s meant to be haunting but mostly looks like a sleepover gone wrong.
Jason Isaacs, meanwhile, plays Dan with his usual competence, which feels wasted on a script that treats him like the villain from a Botched spin-off. His surgical perfectionism is meant to mirror (get it?) his emotional coldness, but mostly it mirrors how checked out he looks.
The Horror of Mediocrity
Visually, Look Away wants to be Black Swan but ends up as Beige Duck. The lighting is cold, sterile, and overused. Every mirror shot screams, “Look, symbolism!” while the score drones on like it’s begging to be used in a student film. The pacing is glacial — 103 minutes that feel like a punishment from the afterlife.
Even the violence lacks bite. The kills are stylized but bloodless, the tension deflated by editing that cuts away just when things might get interesting. It’s as though the director was afraid the audience might enjoy themselves.
Psychological Horror for People Who Hate Psychology
The film thinks it’s exploring identity, repression, and self-image. In reality, it’s just a long commercial for getting therapy. Airam isn’t a manifestation of trauma or suppressed rage — she’s a plot device with a lipstick addiction.
Maria’s journey from meek to murderous could’ve been fascinating if it weren’t handled with the grace of a sledgehammer. The script keeps insisting it’s profound while saying absolutely nothing. It’s less a psychological thriller than a psychological shrug.
Reflections on Failure
By the time the credits roll, Airam and Maria have “merged” — which the film depicts through a montage of mirrored shots that look like an abandoned Apple commercial. It’s meant to be ambiguous and deep, but after 100 minutes of watching Eisley talk to herself, you’d rather smash the mirror and take your chances with seven years of bad luck.
The tragedy of Look Away is that it wastes a promising premise and a talented cast on a story that can’t decide if it wants to be The Shining, Carrie, or Jennifer’s Body. It ends up being none of them — just a funhouse reflection of better films, stretched thin and drained of personality.
Final Verdict: Objects in Mirror Are Dumber Than They Appear
Look Away is a movie that peers into the abyss and finds… a teenager with daddy issues and an evil twin. It’s the kind of horror film that mistakes silence for suspense and mirrors for meaning.
If you’ve ever wanted to watch 103 minutes of a sad girl talking to her reflection, congratulations: your masterpiece has arrived. For everyone else, avert your eyes.
Rating: 1.5 out of 5 cracked mirrors.
Because sometimes, the scariest thing about a horror movie is realizing there’s still 40 minutes left.
