Reviews
‘Lee Cronin’s The Mummy’ Review: A Reboot With Mixed Results
As far as conflicted films go, Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is one of the most divided in the past decade for horror. Not divisive, but divided in what it wants.
Unlike Cronin’s previous adventure with Evil Dead Rise, The Mummy is a cinematic house that is barely standing, given just how divided it is. Rise had a clear goal, and a clear tone for what it was worth: it was to deliver splatter house violence that is more fun than it is pulse-poundingly scary, flooding the stage that was set for it with thousands of gallons of blood and all you’d expect from the series. In all regards, Cronin succeeded in continuing the pretty much unblemished heritage of the Evil Dead franchise by sticking to the plan. The same can’t be said of The Mummy, which suffers in its composition and mood despite being excellent on a special effects level.
The Mummy: A Family Focused Reboot of a Classic Monster
Throwing the Boris Karloff out with the bathwater, Cronin’s run at a reboot pulls focus away from the plot of the original. Instead, we follow the curious tale of the Cannon family: eight years prior, expats Charlie (Jack Reynor) and Larissa (Laia Costa) lost their daughter Katie to a mysterious kidnapper while living in Cairo. After a grueling, inconclusive hunt, they’ve begun to settle into their lives back in Albuquerque, with their son Seb and youngest daughter Maud.
But that relative peace is upended when government officials alert them that Katie (Natalie Grace) has been found, pulled out of a mysterious sarcophagus from a plane crash in the Egyptian countryside. Catatonic and bizarrely deformed by an ordeal she refuses to speak of, the couple brings her home in hopes of rehabilitating her. But Katie has brought back much more than her physical and mental trauma, carrying a passenger who is determined to hurt the Cannons in the worst of ways.
Two Films (Unfortunately) Trapped in One Body
The chief problem with telling this story of a troubled little girl reintegrating into her family is that The Mummy is split by two distinct and conflicting desires: to be crude, and to be contemplative. This reboot is two films that have been, ironically, Frankenstein’d together rather than neatly wrapped up. It’s easy to see the stitches are very, very messy.
One movie is a gross-out body horror circus, trying to get you to gag and drop your jaw with its vulgar displays of bad taste; it succeeds quite often on that part. The other film is a dark, moody, supernatural mystery that is literally half a world away in both location and tone; while the Cannons struggle in New Mexico, a cop back in Cairo (Detective Zalki, played by May Calamawy) does the legwork to figure out who exactly took Katie and uncovers an ancient force behind it.
Truth be told, Zalki’s B-plot is the more compelling of the two. Calamawy’s determined gumshoe, whose success rate is counted in dead missing persons and degrees of frustration, is tragic and strongly written. The bits of wisdom she drops hint at much more fascinating themes than the vomit-laden A-plot ever builds up to.
Enough Subtlety, Let’s Get Grossed Out Together
While the first twenty minutes hint at a cultural and emotional tension between the Cannons and Detective Zalki, a brick wall is quickly erected between them as Charlie and Larissa retreat into a completely different movie: a mean-spirited, Evil Dead-esque possession film that gives you, for all intents and purposes, a little girl Deadite that is one of the creepiest and grossest of all time.
This isn’t an attempt at pigeon-holing Cronin, this is just a byproduct of a director who is clearly inspired by one of the greatest of all time and trying to pay homage. Or at the very least, a director who would like to stay in the realm of the grotesque and campy just a little longer. And campy it is. The film we get stateside is a parade of depravity with over-the-top dialogue, obscenity, and bodily harm that flies even higher than that. It’s a runtime chock-full of absurdly nasty bodily humors being thrown, oozing and puking, and splattering around like a bile filled Jackson Pollock. The directing is frenetic and tight, and aside from Cronin’s intervention worthy addiction to split-diopter shots, it’s all at least competently made, even when it’s indulging in some Raimi-isms.
Why Does The Mummy Not Feel Like A Mummy Movie?
But despite the technical skill behind its camerawork and effects (and trust, the nauseatingly gooey effects were enough to garner physical reactions), it’s impossible to ignore how The Mummy’s disparate halves are strangling each other, making both sides of the story weaker and choking the pacing.
As Zalki’s investigation into the occult hits its stride, we have to quickly make way for the next set piece involving whatever foul, bloody nonsense Katie is up to. Then once you start to settle into the cartoonish violence of the Cannons’ distressing situation, you’re inevitably thrust back into Zalki’s slow prowl for answers. As the cycle of the two eating at each other continues, it doesn’t just leave you feeling tonal whiplash; it also pads the runtime and turns what could have been a tight hundred-minute creature feature into a problematic two hours and change. By the time the two storylines do meet back up, the damage has already been done.
A Fractured Vision Undermines The Mummy’s Potential
Bisected and then messily put back together again, the two halves of Lee Cronin’s The Mummy fail to maintain consistency. It was already a bizarre choice to play a mummy movie to the tune of an American-based possession film, and an even more bizarre choice to isolate the Egyptian iconography of the film to a very different side plot. But the real oddity is how much potential both halves squander in the process of trying to have their cake and eat it too.
I was browsing the Arrow Video table at Brooklyn Horror Film Festival in 2024, spending way too much money. (Nearly $400!) One film really caught my eye. Its cover was unassuming but spoke loudly: two red-lit people in space suits on the top left, while a (what seemed to be) missile silo took up the rest of the cover. The cover was enough to sell me, and I threw it in my car. Little did I know that The Andromeda Strain was going to be one of the most fascinating films I have ever watched. And the book was just as spectacular.
What is The Andromeda Strain About?
Piedmont, New Mexico, is quickly thrust into chaos when a government satellite crashes into the town of 68 people. Doctors Jeremy Stone (Arthur Hill), Charles Dutton (David Wayne), Mark Hull (James Olson), and Ruth Leavitt (Kate Reid) are activated to investigate this local extinction event. But they don’t find themselves inside a normal science lab; the four doctors are sent to Wildfire, a deep underground military base (D.U.M.B.). This 5-level-deep base is our nation’s frontline defense against this cataclysmic incident, but should it escape, then all hell would break loose.
Adapting Michael Crichton’s Novel
Based on the Michael Crichton novel of the same name, The Andromeda Strain is a wonderfully contained film that’s as pulse-pounding as it is fascinating. As someone who isn’t very smart, a film (and book) like this one makes me feel educated. Sci-Fi films find themselves constantly tiptoeing a tightrope of understanding. Hell, science is in its name. Should a writer make the science aspects too dumb, either no one will believe it, or people will be bored. If a writer makes it too smart, you alienate audiences like me, whose eyes quickly gloss over.
Nelson Gidding’s script, which is fairly accurate to Crichton’s novel, does an incredible job of bringing Crichton’s fascinating novel to life. Gidding trims out some fat where needed, turning this story into an incredibly lean two-hour 10-minute self-contained epic. With stylistic assistance from director Robert Wise, Gidding keeps the near-epistolary feel of the novel. But it’s the pacing and stylization of the film that bring it to a new level.
Robert Wise’s Direction and the Film’s Unique Sci-Fi Style
Robert Wise and cinematographer Richard H. Kline bring forced monotony in the most engaging way. I love how the decontamination chapters are handled in the novel, though it could be worrying to question how that could be transcribed over to film. But it’s how the decontamination scenes are handled that adds substance to the style. These scenes are slow, tiring, and should bring the pacing to a complete stop. At this point, we’ve seen what this satellite did to the town, and we’re amped to get more context. These scenes seem to go on and on, and it’s the tedium that comes with them that humanizes the entire process. I’m sure these doctors want to get to the heart of why they’re here, and as viewers, we’re forced alongside them to sit and wait for each second to tick by through the cleaning process on EACH level.
Most of the characters are fodder for dialogue and plot advancements, but it’s the characters of Dr. Hall and Dr. Leavitt who are the most complex. Dr. Hall is trusted with the key that would detonate a nuclear bomb inside this D.U.M.B., due to what is described as the odd-man hypothesis. (This basically means, should the crap really hit the fan, a single man with no children would have the least amount of issues making a tough decision in a life-or-death scenario.) And Dr. Leavitt’s character is maddeningly deep. She suffers from a medical issue that goes undisclosed–this is due to her deep love for her work, and she would not be able to do what she does based on this issue.
The Underground Base and Production Design
But what really sells me on this film is how it all takes place in a gorgeously constructed underground military base. The set design is beyond immaculate and well-crafted. It truly feels like an authentic underground base. And it’s fascinating that I stumbled on this film at the same time I had been doing deep research into Valiant Thor, Raven Rock, and the Greada Treaty. Though that is neither here nor there.
Why The Andromeda Strain Is Essential Sci-Fi Viewing
The Andromeda Strain is a grounded, but still incredibly smart, Sci-Fact film that brings light to an oft-not-spoken-about aspect of the United States Government. It excels at telling a brilliant, life-changing story while making it palatable for all audiences. This is a film that should be shown over the course of three Fridays in a lazy teacher’s science class. Action, anxiety, and fear abound in The Andromeda Strain. It’s a film that should be on any film viewer’s watchlist.
There are countless subgenres within subgenres for horror, and one that feels underutilized is workplace horror. Unless you’re one of the lucky few, most people wake up at some point during the day, go to work, and then come home. It’s one of the few things in life that’s nearly unavoidable. While there are countless real-life examples of workplace violence, seeing exaggerated forms of it in film can still be fun. When I pitched covering The Belko Experiment for this month, I actually thought I was pitching Joe Lynch’s Mayhem. I soon found out how incorrect I had been, but figured I’d go along with it anyway.
Mike Milch (John Gallagher Jr.) and 79 of his coworkers are locked inside the towering building they come to work in every day in Bogotá, Colombia. They’re given simple instructions: murder two coworkers within the next half hour. When they fail that task, coworkers’ heads start blowing up left and right. When they’re given the next task, kill 30 people in two hours, they take it…a little more seriously.
The Belko Experiment’s Brutal Premise Sets Up High Stakes
Written by James Gunn and directed by Wolf Creek creator Greg McLean, The Belko Experiment is a painfully by-the-numbers film that offers little more than a handful of entertaining kills. Its futile attempts at commentary regarding work/life balance or just how bad “faceless” upper management is fall so flat it’s comical. Nothing like multi-millionaire James Gunn telling me how awful it is to have to work a real job for a living. Great work. And its one-dimensional characters do little more than create a slight sigh of relief when they’re dispatched without regard.
A singular attempt at cleverness is broached from the beginning when we see a colony of ants in an ant farm on someone’s desk. Oh, look at that, these workers are nothing more than mindless ants! But any attempt at following that slightly clever idea is quickly thrown away. At one point, Barry Norris (Tony Goldwyn), the big boss in the office, attempts to group up who should and shouldn’t be killed; who has the most value outside of work. Gunn had the perfect opportunity to make Barry a deep and more sinister antagonist. If Barry had grouped people into sets from most to least profitable for the company, we would have something. It would show that Barry is a forward-thinking villain who is trying to suck up to the people who get paid even MORE than him!
Missed Opportunities for a Smarter Corporate Villain
I’ll do you one better. After all of that, what if the bad guys that Barry recruited to help him cull his subordinates realized they were just pawns in the game of Big Business? So then they attempt to repent by killing Barry in the hopes that they can find a common means of escape from this hell? Why is there zero attempt at making an interesting story other than this shitty, watered-down Battle Royale with people we don’t give a shit about? Instead of anything interesting, we’re just given a group of baddies who try to get into the security office’s gun safe. The only reason we’re slightly scared of the “bad guys” is because they’re bad guys.
The only slightly interesting performances we get are from David Dastmalchian and Adria Arjona, even if it might be a fluke. As someone who is a fan of Greg McLean and the Wolf Creek series, something just felt disconnected about nearly every aspect of The Belko Experiment. I’ve brought it up before that sometimes it’s okay to have a film that doesn’t tell a great story as long as the kills can carry some of the weight. But to say this film has a story is laughable, and that carries over to how flat this film looks.
Skip The Belko Experiment and Watch Mayhem Instead
It’s weird how sour this film left me. When I was watching it, I found myself grimacing at some of the kills. And I didn’t vehemently dislike it as much as this review would suggest. But as I sat there and thought longer, I just couldn’t wrap my head around what anyone sees in this. Mayhem is an all-around better film that tackles this same subject but in a much better way. So if you ever decide to sit down and watch The Belko Experiment, maybe go watch Mayhem on Shudder instead.
