The Mummy Review: Classic Monster Gets a Bloated, Unfunny Resurrection
Warner Bros has insisted on branding their new hard R horror film as Lee Cronin's The Mummy, a pretentious designation that has drawn deserved mockery online in recent weeks. This move aims to distinguish it from Universal's planned revival of their 1990s-2000s franchise while capitalizing on Hollywood's current auteur obsession. The studio's marketing notably highlights that this comes "from the studio who brought you Weapons," as if that carries significant weight.
Director-First Approach Shows Unearned Indulgence
While it's refreshing to see a studio prioritize a director over star power—unlike the Tom Cruise-led Mummy film that lost millions—this approach reveals an unearned indulgence. Cronin, an Irish filmmaker with just two previous features (The Hole in the Ground and Evil Dead Rise), receives premature genius treatment before fully proving himself. Cronin himself reportedly expressed uncertainty about participating in this trend.
The director possesses undeniable visual talent, but his Mummy is absurdly overlong at 134 minutes—an unacceptable runtime for such a thin genre film. The movie is tonally uncertain and, most critically, not particularly scary. Despite being attributed to a single director, the film feels deeply derivative, borrowing heavily from numerous other works.
Familiar Creepy Kid Horror Wrapped Differently
Following the failure of Tom Cruise's The Mummy and the collapse of Universal's Dark Universe, studios have sought smaller, smarter approaches to classic monsters. Leigh Whannell's The Invisible Man became a domestic thriller, while Renfield transformed a Dracula side character into comedy lead. Cronin's attempt follows this pattern but with grander, presumably more expensive execution.
The film centers on Katie, a girl who disappears in Cairo and reappears eight years later in a plane crash wreckage, preserved in an ornate sarcophagus. Her expatriate parents (played by Jack Reynor and Laia Costa) bring her to their New Mexico home, where she's diagnosed with locked-in syndrome. The creepiness of Katie's disappearance—orchestrated by a malevolent local woman who "grooms" her with candy—is undermined by rubbery prosthetics that evoke cheap Halloween decorations.
Missing Humor and Overreliance on Gore
As Katie's teeth begin crunching and skin starts tearing, the film increasingly resembles an unofficial Evil Dead sequel, especially during its exhaustingly loud, all-in finale. However, Cronin lacks Sam Raimi's wicked humor, taking the material too seriously. Extended sequences include a detective investigation in Egypt, convincingly led by May Calamawy, that feels imported from another movie.
When moments of goofiness finally emerge—such as daughters mimicking Linda Blair's profane Regan or a funeral descending into splatter movie chaos—they feel like discordant blips. The film builds around its tagline question, "What happened to Katie?" only to answer literally: she became Lee Cronin's The Mummy. This revelation dashes hopes that the extended runtime and grand scale would lead somewhere surprising or substantive.
Visual Ambition Cannot Save Fundamental Flaws
Cronin seems primarily interested in gloopy gore, of which there's plenty, though it's often too outlandishly unreal to truly disturb. He earns credit for inventive use of a scorpion and torn vocal cords, but shows less interest in character development, suspense, or logical consistency. The unfolding chaos occurs in a world where rational questions—about noise, investigation, or motivation—are conveniently ignored.
The film's IMAX-sized ambition makes it feel and sound more epic than standard Blumhouse horror, harkening back to when studios treated monster movies as high-craft blockbusters. It's often stunning visually, but the "feel of a real movie" cannot compensate for missing elements. Once again, a horror director has failed to conjure a terrifyingly good script to match visual prowess.
The Mummy releases in Australian cinemas on April 16, with US and UK releases following on April 17.
