The Mummy (1932)

If you are going into Lee Cronin’s The Mummy (2026) and expecting a sophisticated classic like The Mummy (1932) with Boris Karloff, a fun monster romp like The Mummy (1959) with Peter Cushing, an Indiana Jones-style adventure like The Mummy (1999) with Brendan Frasier, or some mashup of those concepts like The Mummy (2017) with Tom Cruise, prepare to be disappointed on all fronts.  The newest horror offering from Blumhouse Productions and New Line Cinema, giants in this space having produced films like Get Out (2017) and A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) respectively, is just another generic demon possession movie.

When assessing a horror movie, most viewers want an answer to one primary question: is it scary? The answer, friends and neighbors, is yes. This film, one way or another, will probably freak you out. That mostly comes from hearty servings of loud noises, gore, and (fictional) cruelty towards children, coupled with a minor helping of (fictional) animal abuse. Nowhere in Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is there any horror that originates from a concept, a thought, some psychology. This is one of the most disgusting movies I have ever seen, and admittedly that is impressive, but all it lends itself to is the ten millionth iteration of the formula founded in 1973 by The Exorcist.