Doubt

Mirrors (20th Century Fox):

I'm all for Kiefer Sutherland having a career outside of the small screen straightjacket of 24, but for the sake of differentiation it might be a good idea if he didn't accept roles casting him as troubled ex-cops sneaking around dark, empty buildings - gun in hand, chasing noises in the night. Because all I could think of was Jack Bauer. And how the hapless Ben Carson wasn't a slice on Jack Bauer. Maybe a stuffy period drama or a vampire tit-comedy would reboot our idea of who Kiefer Sutherland is. My unfortunate fantasies aside, Mirrors reads like just another J-Horror flick with the usual supernatural spin - in this case spirits lurking behind mirrors. And for the most part, this is largely how it crawls along.

But underneath is a fine thriller gasping to get out; touching on issues of identity, philosophy and spooky children maladministered by the state, naturally. Our anti-hero, Carson, is a suspended detective and in an effort to prove responsibility to his estranged family he finds work as a security guard in a disused building. Right, now that's the first problem - ain't no disused building ever been problem-free.

Soon enough strange things start happening in the old department store that in fact was originally a psychiatric hospital long beforehand. Never saw that one coming did you? The previous security guard died in mysterious circumstances... oh, god it's so unbelievably rote. Carson slowly begins to unravel the malevolent back story of the fiendish apparitions - at great cost to his family and self. Mirrors are furiously painted, blood is spilt, looks are quizzical and credulity is tested.

Only rarely does the film Mirrors want to be rise to the surface and, for those who make the effort, the genuinely unsettling final scene is exactly what this film should have been. Too bad French new wave horror director Alexandre Aja failed to find the right tone for the remaining 108 minutes.

Kissology 1974-77 (Eagle Rock DVD):

Unless you are Paul Stanley or Gene Simmons (or one of their mums), it's debatable as to whether you need over six hours of footage of their band from its salad days. When you further take into account the fact that every track here is repeated seven or eight times, it's increasingly likely that you'll be able to turn your back on this 'new' release (it's been available in the US for nearly three years now, so any 'real' Kiss fans will own this anyway) and use your already-stretched financial resources more usefully elsewhere.

What you get is at times rudimentary footage of a band learning as it goes along. Paul Stanley in particular suffers here, with many of his now trademark raps coming over here as frankly ludicrous, whilst the 'homemade' nature of many of the set piece stunts won't fail to disappoint those brought up on the band in its later, more polished entities.

That said, it's worth a squizz once, if only to see (and hear) that Peter Criss was rather a good singer before the madness took hold (he easily outstrips Simmons vocally in the early footage), whilst the bits and pieces culled from obscure US and UK TV shows (and therefore never seen here before) are all of some interest. Is that enough to charm the cash out of your wallet? Only you can decide whether to buy, but if you do I'd be surprised if you watch this more than once or twice.