By Jon Donnis
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy arrives with the weight of an iconic title behind it, though it soon becomes obvious that Cronin has little interest in simply recreating what audiences might expect from the franchise. Instead, he leans heavily into his own style of savage body horror, pushing things into darker and far more grotesque territory. That decision is likely to divide viewers. Some will feel completely thrown by it, while others may appreciate the sheer boldness of the approach.
“The young daughter of a journalist disappears into the desert without a trace. Eight years later, the shattered family is stunned when she suddenly returns home. What should have been a joyful reunion quickly descends into horror as she begins transforming into something deeply disturbing.”
The opening section is undoubtedly where the film feels strongest. Against the suffocating heat of Aswan, the descent into the hidden pyramid carries genuine tension and atmosphere. Cronin takes his time building dread, allowing the unease to settle before unleashing something far nastier beneath the surface. Those early scenes feel focused, unsettling, and genuinely creepy. Once the story turns its attention to the Cannon family, the emotional side of the film also works surprisingly well. Jack Reynor gives Charlie a believable sense of weariness and emotional collapse, while Laia Costa brings a quiet vulnerability to Larissa that helps ground the increasingly chaotic horror.
When the film fully embraces its horror elements, it does so with absolutely no restraint. This is not a subtle experience. It is gruesome, excessive, and at times completely unhinged. Cronin clearly favours practical effects and intensely physical imagery, resulting in several moments that are difficult to forget. The now infamous toenail sequence alone will make even hardened horror fans squirm, and the film constantly searches for fresh ways to unsettle its audience. There is a grimy, unpleasant texture to the horror that clings long after the film ends.
There is also genuine creativity in the way the possession storyline unfolds. The idea of ancient scripture carved into living flesh is a particularly strong concept, and the slow deterioration of those bindings creates an effective sense of inevitability. Horror fans may notice echoes of Evil Dead in places, though the film still manages to carve out its own identity. The Morse code communication adds an unexpectedly tragic layer beneath all the violence, suggesting the trapped child is still fighting from somewhere deep inside.
For all its strengths, though, the film struggles to maintain momentum across its lengthy runtime. At more than two hours long, the pacing eventually starts to wobble. Certain sections feel stretched out, with tension repeatedly building only to lose steam before having to start again. That uneven rhythm hurts the film most during the second half, where the story occasionally feels unfocused.
There is also the unavoidable question of whether this truly feels like The Mummy at all. Despite the title, the film rarely resembles a traditional reimagining of the classic property. Instead, it often plays more like a possession horror film dressed in ancient Egyptian imagery. At times, it feels closer in spirit to Cronin’s previous work than anything audiences would normally associate with this franchise. Anyone expecting sweeping adventure, gothic fantasy, or classic mythology may find themselves disappointed.
Still, the film is rarely boring. Its relentless commitment to excess keeps things entertaining even when the narrative drifts. The death scenes are inventive, the visuals are memorable, and there is a reckless energy running through the entire film that helps carry it over its weaker moments.
Ultimately, this works best when viewed entirely on its own terms. Ignore the expectations tied to the title and it becomes a brutal, often highly effective horror film with flashes of real originality. Compare it too closely to what people traditionally expect from The Mummy, and the cracks become far more noticeable.
It is messy, overlong, and occasionally loses focus. Even so, it remains memorable, deeply unsettling, and willing to push further than most mainstream horror films would dare. That alone makes it stand out.
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy ends up as a flawed but undeniably striking horror film, one that audiences will likely argue over for years. A solid 7 out of 10.
In cinemas now.
Apple TV - https://apple.co/4tTPmvU
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