A Múmia

I love the classic horror movies of the 1930s. They were made when the talkies were still novel and film makers were experimenting with storytelling approaches, often taking inspirations from German Expressionism (indeed 'The Mummy's director Karl Freund, who later directed another 1930s classic 'Mad Love', originally worked as a cinematographer on Fritz Lang's science fiction classic 'Metropolis' and several movies by F.W. Murnau). And it was before the Hayes Code kicked in and took a lot of the fun and thrills out of horror movies (just look at how safe and uninteresting horror became in the 1940s with a few notable exceptions e.g. the movies produced by Val Lewton). The film obviously owes a lot to 'Dracula' and Edward Van Sloan and David Manners from that film reappear here in similar roles. Karloff is brilliant as Imhotep a.k.a The Mummy, and stage actress Zita Johann is wonderful too, very striking with exotic good looks. Too bad she became very quickly disillusioned with Hollywood as she should have been a major screen star. Karloff and Johann are fantastic on screen together, and make 'The Mummy' impossible to forget. I was quite surprised to discover that this movie wasn't enormously successful when originally released, but it has obviously captured the imagination of thousands of film fans since. It is easily the best Mummy movie ever made (though I also have a fondness for Hammer's "Blood From The Mummy's Tomb' made almost forty years later), and much more entertaining and intelligent than the awful remake starring Brendan Fraser et al. 'The Mummy' stands alongside 'Dracula', 'Frankenstein', 'Island Of Lost Souls', 'Freaks', 'The Invisible Man' and 'The Black Cat' as one of the best horror movies of the 1930s, an era that has had an enormous impact on horror ever since. Highly recommended!

What director Karl Freund achieves in this movie is nothing short of staggering, even at a remove of nearly 70 years. If this same story, with this same basic approach, were released today, it would still be great. And especially now, when the box office successes of such movies as The Sixth Sense, What Lies Beneath and The Blair Witch Project demonstrate that audiences are hungry for a return to the classic horror virtues of style, mood and suspense (as opposed to the tired formula of gore, in your face shocks, special effects, and more gore) The Mummy would seem ripe for some kind of revival (too bad the lame Brendan Fraser vehicle has stolen its title - though nothing of its wit, skill, or conviction).

What makes this movie so good is. . . gosh, there are so many things! Start with the creepy and unsettling tone, which the movie establishes right away. The very first scene - where the Mummy is awakened - is one of the greatest ever for pure atmosphere and chills. Look at the way Freund *under* plays it, every step of the way. Instead of piling on a crescendo of "scary" music and using odd or distorted camera angles to dramatize the situation, he has the action play out in total silence and with a resolutely still camera, the tasteful cut-aways (from the mummy in the tomb to the archaeologist sitting not five feet away) being the only frill. The tension which results is unsettlingly powerful - and is made moreso by the fact that the scene refuses to resolve itself in the way which we expect it to. I'll give no more details, but when you watch the film, ask yourself: isn't *this* resolution ten times more creepy and effective than the one we thought we saw coming. Already, five minutes in, it's clear that The Mummy has a far more wicked, sophisticated sense of horror than any of the other big "monsters" of the day (Dracula, Frankenstein, Wolf Man, etc.) - and a good deal more than many that have come after, too.

But of course, all the style in the world ultimately cannot save a weak or hackneyed script. And so it's a great pleasure to report that all of Freund's technical finesse is at the service of a really super cool story. Not content to be merely a spooker, the film is also - nay, one might even say primarily - a tragic love story: one that deals intelligently with such provocative notions as forbidden love, reincarnation, religious desecration, inhuman torture, and a strong sub-theme of the desire to respect the past vs. the need to live for the moment. All of these elements swirl so ingeniously and non-didactically in The Mummy's streamlined storyline, that I'm tempted to proclaim this at once both the most compact, as well as the most ambitious, horror movie script I have ever come across.

Of course, such superlatives can get you in trouble too, so let me add that yes, there are flaws - mainly the ones endemic to all horror movies of the time. The so-called "hero" is once again a young man of no charm or interest whatsoever. Meanwhile, the venerable old "expert" who must explain the ways of the monster to everyone else is already a tired convention at this point - and since the role here is played by Edward Van Sloan (who was Van Helsing in the original "Dracula" and its sequel "Dracula's Daughter", as well as Dr. Waldman in "Frankenstein") there is an even greater than usual sense of perfunctoriness to the undertaking. However, even here the movie displays its strength and uniqueness by toying with our expectations of what these stock characters will be able to do and achieve. Whereas in most other horror films, the romantic lead and the crusty old doctor end up being the white knights who vanquish the monster and save the girl, here they operate on a much less exalted plane - and are thereby made more human in the process.

As for faults, that's pretty much it. The pace is masterful; some have called it slow, but I strongly disagree. The film flows naturally and inevitably, with every scene building upon the one before it. There's nothing extraneous in the way it unfolds - achievement enough when compared to the countless other horror movies of its day. As an added treat, there is a flashback sequence in the middle of the movie that is a mini-masterpiece all by itself: it has all the fury and grandeur of a D.W. Griffith silent, honed and encapsulated down to its bare essence. It tells the tale of the title character's previous life with an economy and precision that could still serve as a model for filmmakers today. And, well, most of all, the movie has. . . Boris Karloff.

I've restricted my discussion of him until the end because his towering greatness is so routinely accepted and understood that it's almost redundant to comment upon it. Also, I wanted to make clear that, though he is the film's chief asset, he is far from its only one. But there's no question that it is his stately, brooding, menacing performance that ultimately pushes this film over into the realm of greatness. The key thing here is this: while the concept of a centuries-old being raised from the dead and out for vengeance is a great *idea*, Karloff's portrayal is what gives it tangible, terrifying REALITY. Observing this man - with his stiff ramrod posture, his measured and stately movements, and his absolutely hypnotic voice - we are truly convinced, on a visceral level, that yes here indeed is the walking dead. That kind of verisimilitude is rare enough in horror movies of any era, and its presence here stands as an absolute revelation. Just as does the entirety of this wonderful, exquisitely made film.

I love these Universal horror movies. This one is all atmosphere. The lighting, the focus on Karloff's eyes and his threatening persona carry the film. When I was in elementary school (my kids would say not long after this film was made), I had another kid scare the daylights out of me by describing the internment of the Egyptian rulers. The taking of the body, perfuming it, placing it in a room full of gold, then killing the slaves so that only the priests would know the actual resting place of the body. There was also the bit about being wrapped alive for burial. I'll tell you.

The effect of that story, which is portrayed in the movie, put a bigger scare into me than any movie I've ever seen. Since this one was really the only one we would ever see on television, I watched it every time I could. Isn't it interesting that both the Lugosi "Dracula" use a quotation from "Swan Lake" as a theme song. I've always wondered why that is. It is certainly eerie and as the credits roll, it builds in intensity. I was told once that Tchaikovsky would probably do movie soundtracks if he were alive today. Pardon my digressions. It is interesting that the mummy (as a fully wrapped personage) really doesn't appear after the beginning sequence--we just know that old Boris is in the process of decay and will eventually be sent to his eternal reward. As usual, the scientists and those who should know, carelessly leave the young woman unattended and he makes his move. The threatening suavity of Karloff is the high point of the movie. I feel the world received such a gift when these films were made. It is a delight, full of frightening images and classic moments.

Boris Karloff plays Imhotep, a cursed Egyptian buried alive 3700-years-ago, returns to life to claim the reincarnation of his lost-love in this Universal classic. Moody, understated and succinct, The Mummy is one of the best films from Universal's classic horror period. Although much of the success can be credited to first time director Karl Freund, who normally worked as a top cinematographer, and the brilliant make-up artist Jack P. Pierce, it is Boris Karloff who gives the film its resonance. As he previously did with the Frankenstein monster, Karloff imbues this character with an aching sense of humanity which was completely absent later incarnations of the Mummy character. Credit must also be given to the able supporting cast including Zita Johann and the always reliable Edward Van Sloan. Now here's a question. Is the film scary by today's standards? I guess I'd have to say not really. However, I just watched this film again after seeing the American version of 'The Grudge.' 'The Grudge' certainly had me jumping more, but which film did I enjoy more? It'd have to be 'The Mummy.'

Although frequently reinterpreted, the original 1932 THE MUMMY remains the most intriguing film version of a story inspired by both 1920s archaeological finds and the 1931 Bela Lugosi Dracula: when an over-eager archaeologist reads an incantation from an ancient scroll, he unexpectedly reanimates a mysterious mummy--who then seeks reunion with the princess for whom he died thousands of years earlier and ultimately finds his ancient love reincarnated in modern-day Egypt.

Less a typical horror film than a Gothic romance with an Egyptian setting, THE MUMMY has few special effects of any kind and relies primarily upon atmosphere for impact--and this it has in abundance: although leisurely told, the film possesses a darkly romantic, dreamlike quality that lingers in mind long after the film is over. With one or two exceptions, the cast plays with remarkable restraint, with Boris Karloff as the resurrected mummy and Zita Johann (a uniquely beautifully actress) standouts in the film. The sets are quite remarkable, and the scenes in which Karloff permits his reincarnated lover to relive the ancient past are particularly effective.

Kids raised on wham-bam action and special effects films will probably find the original THE MUMMY slow and uninteresting, but the film's high quality and disquieting atmosphere will command the respect of both fans of 1930s horror film and the more discerning viewer. Of all the 1930s Universal Studio horror films, THE MUMMY is the most subtle--and the one to which I personally return most often.

Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer