The Mummy (1999)
A Film Review by Mark O'Hara
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This is not your grandfather's "The Mummy."
Not to be misunderstood, Boris Karloff as the ancient priest Imhotep was quite menacing - face crinkled in leathery evil, stare capable of sending chills clear from the early 1930's.
But this is the turn of another century, and modern audiences would yawn at all but two minutes of the original "Mummy." The new incarnation is a supercharged 127 -minute melee, most of it successful in mixing a decent plot with flatly amazing special effects. The best element, though, is the fun.
You want to hear about the monster, don't you? It's a hybrid of booger-men from various mythologies: it's a good thing, I think, that there's originality here. The producers would not have won had they gone with a Karloff-esque copy. Anyhow, this Imhotep is a viscid corpse, suddenly animated through the most unfortunate of coincidences. It's a manifestation out of Anne Rice, not only stable but agile, nimble despite parts of its anatomy skeletal or missing. Its heritage is traceable to the vampire, as it somehow drains the vital liquids from its victims, enabling itself to regenerate. Once it is whole (and the men who opened the forbidden book are grotesque husks), Imhotep is supposedly invincible, inflicting upon the modern world (the mid-1920's) the plagues of ancient Egypt.
The forces charged with stopping him include the mercenary Rick O'Connell (Brendan Frasur), who a few years previously was accosted by the evil forces lurking about Imhotep's desert tomb. His help is enlisted by the pretty English Egyptologist Evie (Rachel Weisz), and her sometimes sober brother Jonathan (John Hannah). Their caravan just happens to converge with another Egyptologist (the wonderful Jonathan Hyde) leading a band of greedy cowboys. Their guide is the despicable Beni (Kevin J. O'Connor) who, along with O'Connor, happens to know the location of the legendary City of the Dead. After these expeditions simultaneously uncover different parts of the pernicious burial chambers, the mummy is awakened, members of the parties are hunted like bugs - and at times by bugs - and the "beginning of the end" commences, the horizon blackened by locusts and other harbingers of doom.
Possibly the most watchable moments involve close combat between the heroes and legions of re-animated mummies, the bodyguards of the condemned assassin Imhotep. These shuddering soldiers appear as rapidly as the bony marauders from "Jason and the Argonauts," attacking O'Connell and losing their heads to his swift broadsword. It's over-the-top and delicious footage, causing more chuckling than gasping. We're also treated to the super-hero-like antics of fleet, shield- and spear-wielding mummies. At once scary, gross and humorous, these scenes are a typical use of state-of-the-art technology. They're cool, and they do the job of helping to tell an incredible story.
There are other complications of plot, of course. A secret society, descendants of the guardians of the murdered pharaoh, is endeavoring to scare away the tomb raiders. Before the mummy and his bedraggled ghouls, these black-clad preservers of order serve as the main baddies; their role changes soon, as their tattooed leader sports a heavy machine gun to fight on O'Connell's side. Legions of supernatural scarabs, by the way, contribute mayhem whenever they can, skittering around and de-fleshing whatever's in their way.
The imagery in the film is also cool. Early on, O'Connell is cornered by enemy soldiers on horseback. Suddenly the attackers retreat, and the sands around O'Connell stir violently, leaving the impression of a horrible face, mouth gaping in agony. Later we see the face in the awesome wall of a sandstorm, as well as on the slack-jawed mummy himself.
Brendan Frasur is passable as an action hero. Of course the premise is very different here than in "George of the Jungle." What's in large part responsible for Frasur's success is the surplus of action scenes. The guy is still very muscular from the George role, and seems practiced in running and handling firearms, many times blasting pistols in both hands. At a couple of points Frasur is even allowed to deliver self-reflexive humor, commenting, "That happens a lot around here," when a sudden breeze foreshadows the presence of evil. Frasur does not have the comic timing of Harrison Ford, and does not convince us in O'Connell's stubborn refusal to deliver more than his mercenary services are paid for.
The brother and sister team gets the job done. John Hannah plays a good drunk, his Jonathan a wily rascal who seems cowardly but is ultimately dependable. Rachel Weisz as Evelyn is good-looking in an unusual way, and gains our sympathy especially after the reanimated priest kidnaps her in order to raise from the dead his love from long ago.
Character roles are well-cast. Kevin J. O'Connor as Beni is terrifically snake-like, betraying his friends at the least monetary provocation, and even working for the mummy, which holds out gold jewelry in the exposed cartilage of its hand. The venerable Bernard Cox, veteran of countless film and television forays, plays a Royal Air Force officer looking for the danger he never quite found in war. Arnold Vosloo, the South African actor who portrays Imhotep, is appropriately menacing, the ethnicity of his visage indistinguishable, like Anthony Quinn's.
One reason I hope the film engenders sequels is that the ones that followed the original "The Mummy" were so full of campy fun. I'll be honest: I wouldn't want to watch films like this every week, but on a spring evening, after a long day's work in the office or in the sun, there's nothing like the formulaic spectacle of a sharp "B" film.
"The Mummy" is rated PG-13 for excessive violence and partial nudity. It's the stuff of nightmares for any viewers with vivid imaginations, a likable throwback in a genre I'm glad has been brought back to life!
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