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Review
by
Brian Lindsey
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7
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5 |
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10
= Highest Rating |
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With
the international success of The
Curse of Frankenstein
(1957) and Horror
of Dracula (1958), it was only natural
for Britain's Hammer Studios to remake the third
film in Universal's Monster Cycle of the '30s, The
Mummy. That 1932 film featured the immortal
Boris Karloff, in one of his indelible performances,
as the millenia-old living dead sorcerer Im-ho-tep.
Glimpsed only briefly in the stereotypical bandaged
incarnation, Karloff's Im-ho-tep worked his evil
through spellcasting and hypnotism. Later, when
Universal dusted off its cask of Tana leaves to
revive the character in the 1940s, the Mummy became
the bandage-swathed revenant most people are familiar
with. Hammer's 1959 color version borrows most heavily
from this latter interpretation. Fortunately, writer
Jimmy Sangster and director Terence Fisher made
their mummy more of a Terminator-like killing machine
than the laughably slow monster of the '40s.
Egypt, 1895: An archeological expedition is
on the verge of a great find. For years Stephen
Banning (Felix Aylmer) has searched for the lost
tomb of Ananka, high priestess to the ancient god
Karnak. With his son John (Peter Cushing) laid up
in camp with a broken leg, Banning and his brother
Joseph (Raymond Huntley) enter the tomb despite
the warning of mysterious Egyptian Mehemet Bey (George
Pastell): "He who robs the graves of Egypt...
dies." While alone inside the tomb Banning reads
aloud the legendary Scroll of Life, accidentally
reawakening Ananka's accursed guardian — Kharis,
the living mummy. When Joseph returns to the scene
he finds his brother babbling nonsense, stricken
mad with fear. There is no sign of Kharis; the Scroll
of Life is gone.
England, 1898: For three years Banning has been
confined to a mental asylum, virtually comatose.
One day John, now happily married to the beautiful
Isobel (Diabolique's
Yvonne Furneaux), is summoned to the asylum at his
father's request. The old man, having suddenly regained
the power of speech, warns his son of impending
doom. Kharis the mummy will soon come to kill him;
John and Joseph are also marked for death for violating
Ananka's secret resting place. Heartbroken about
his father's condition, John chalks it up as the
ravings of a madman. He begins to realize differently
when an unknown intruder smashes into the elder
Banning's padded cell and strangles him to death.
In a search for answers John and his uncle begin
pouring through the old man's papers. Meanwhile,
Mehemet Bey — a secret acolyte of Karnak who's made
a sacred vow of revenge for the desecration of Ananka's
tomb — prepares to once again unleash his god's
ultimate instrument of vengeance...
Hammer's version of The
Mummy is a most satisfying excursion into
old-fashioned monster thrills. Fisher's direction
is sure-handed if not flashy; like all of Hammer's
product during this period the production values
are rich considering the meager budget. (Designer
Bernard Robinson was a master at pulling this off.
In this case though he could only do so much; the
"outdoor" Egyptian scenes do have a slightly cheesy
"Star Trek set" look to them.) At 88 minutes
it's a compact, well-paced narrative that only only
briefly bogs down during a flashback sequence detailing
Princess Ananka's funeral. (Sangster must've been
overly smitten with his funerary incantation lines.
Or maybe they just needed to pad out the running
time.) Cushing is his usual terrific self, lent
splendid support by the lovely Furneaux (who really
isn't a factor in the film until the final half
hour), Eddie Byrne (Island
of Terror) as a no-nonsense police inspector,
and Pastell as the urbane but murderous Mehemet
Bey. But it's Christopher Lee who steals the show
as Kharis. With all due respect to Karloff the Uncanny,
I think Lee's is the best screen mummy of them all.
Smashing through doors to barrel at his prey like
an unstoppable juggernaut, this was a physically
demanding role that resulted in a number of injuries
to the actor during filming. Not only is he very
effective as the silently relentless killing machine,
Lee makes wonderful use of his eyes and body language
to express pathos, longing, even sadness. His is
a Kharis that can evoke sympathy as well as dread.
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Hammerheads
will be disappointed that Warner has issued a totally
"no frills" edition of The
Mummy.
It comes with the American theatrical trailer —
that's it. The blemish-free transfer is matted in
1.85:1 "letterbox" style. Certain scenes
appear a tad dark but the print is otherwise excellent.
Audio is clear and crisp except for the music during
the opening credits sequence, which sounds tinny and
slightly muffled. English and French subtitles are
provided.
I was generally
pleased with this bare-bones edition. Considering
that Warner Brothers has been notoriously reticent
to release most of the classic horror/sci-fi titles
in its inventory —
don't they see how well MGM's Midnite Movies are selling?
—
I'm just happy they put this one out. (Merely to capitalize
on the video release of Universal's The
Mummy Returns, it should be noted.) I can only
hope this will sell well enough to prompt DVD releases
of the other great Hammer titles that Warner keeps
imprisoned in VHS purgatory. 10/13/01 |
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