I had fun with Lee Cronin’s The Mummy. It’s a visceral, unadulterated, gory thrill ride. But is it a good film?

A missing child, Katie, is found after being away for years. Her disappearance has left visible cracks within the family. With unresolved grief and tensions lingering just beneath the surface, Katie returns home. It forces them to confront everything they have long been avoiding – grief, guilt, loss, and a sense of identity. The film unfolds like a haunted house horror. It’s centered on a family fighting to restore normalcy as something darker begins to threaten them.

A hollow myth dressed as horrorFamiliar story, borrowed mythology

Cronin adopts a family-centered narrative to ground its horror. This approach lends the story a sense of universal familiarity and understanding. It anchors the supernatural elements and visceral horror with real and intense emotions. With its overly simplistic – and often overused – storyline, however, it just feels flat.

The characters’ emotional turmoil never fully takes off – much like possessed-Katie levitating in her wheelchair, hovering only a few feet off the ground. It never moves beyond the superficial depth established within the first 30 minutes.

It leans closer in spirit to The Awakening (1980). There, possession and reincarnation rituals functioned as surface-level devices rather than being deeply rooted in a meaningful exploration of Egyptian mythology.

At its core, Lee Cronin’s The Mummy plays less of a mythology-driven monster and more like a possession story dressed in Egyptian iconography.

Mythology without meaning

The filmmakers admit that “the history was reshaped and reality was twisted to accommodate the plot.” It was evident in the film’s scattered use of Egyptian references. This choice of hand-grabbing random Egyptian influences – symbols, language, incantations, and ritualistic imagery – and piecing them together to fit the storyline, rather than allowing them to coalesce into a fully realized mythological system, feels weak at best and a cultural disservice at worst. 

As a result, the narrative falls back onto the familiar Western possession logic, rather than anything distinctly Egyptian or genuinely original.

Visually rich, emotionally thin

Cronin’s style is immediately evident even just from the opening scene. The strong domestic-centered storyline, textured and visually striking environment, and composition, as well as detailed set pieces. If anything, the film itself resembles the 3,000-year-old sarcophagus Katie got trapped in. Intricate and aesthetically compelling, yet ultimately hollow inside.

It closely follows the Evil Dead Rise (2023) formula, but Evil Dead has an already established system and identity. Its lore is clear and carries its own magic, appeal, and nostalgia hit. It leaves little need for expansion beyond creating strong, compelling characters. That’s something Cronin’s The Mummy still struggled to deliver.

Between terror and unintentional comedy

Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is visceral and gory – which is “fun” to some, myself included. I had fun when Katie’s possession escalates to her digging through the ceiling, crawling upside-down. There’s also mauling whatever and whoever she comes across, while her infected sister was also escalating in her own way, smiling dementedly at their parents with a set of teeth that wasn’t hers. THAT was FUN. 

Some moments felt like deliberate dark humor. Like when a scarab beetle attack forces the detective to pinch her vocal cords back together so she can recite a ritual. Her later return, still speaking in a permanently hoarse voice and her snarky demeanor intact after recovering, was both ridiculous and hilarious.

The movie, however, doesn’t fully commit to that tone. At times, I found myself wondering whether these moments were unintentionally funny due to the typical horror logic. Where everyone has to be inexplicably, well, stupid – rather than a deliberate choice. 

While certain lines, such as the famous scene with possessed-Katie saying, “Don’t worry, grandma, it’s fun being dead!” suggest an intent to lean into a self-aware campy route. The film’s inconsistent tone renders the execution awkward and forced. Theatre experience reflects this tonal inconsistency; rather than laughter, the audience mostly responded with collective screams during meaningless jump scares.

Fun for some, frustrating for others

Casual viewers and those easily horrified will find the film effective and entertaining. Particularly in a group viewing experience with friends. Its easy-to-understand story has proven to be a widely effective formula. As seen with the widespread success of co-producer James Wan’s The Conjuring and Insidious franchises.

Dedicated horror fans, particularly those who enjoy visceral gore, will find much to appreciate. The film distinguishes itself through a sustained sense of dread. It creates tension as a perpetual baseline, keeping viewers constantly on the edge of their seats. Director Lee Cronin, with his signature brutality, punctures this baseline by masterfully interspersing intense violence, delivering a visceral, almost tactile horror experience. These bursts, along with the escalating violence, reinforce the film’s relentless intensity, creating a physically overwhelming atmosphere. While the first half occasionally leans toward shock value for its own sake, the later escalations serve a crucial narrative function: cathartic release. 

The more critical viewers, however, are more likely to find the improperly explored mythology and mish-mashed lore, paired with a lack of narrative depth, ultimately not worth their time.

As for me, I fall somewhere between the critical viewer and the horror fan. While I am filled with disdain for the formulaic narrative and the reskinned possession approach, my love for the genre and for Cronin’s brand of violence keeps me from fully writing this movie off.

Entertaining, but forgettable

Ultimately, Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is a visually striking, visceral thrill ride that struggles to justify its own existence beyond surface-level scares. 

Its strongest moments stem from Cronin’s command of tension and brutality. While it succeeds in delivering a physically overwhelming experience – turning gore into a form of cathartic release. It falters when asked to sustain emotional depth or offer a coherent mythology.

Yet, despite its tonal inconsistencies and formulaic narrative, the raw energy of its horror moments makes it a flawed but undeniably entertaining ride. One that satisfies on an immediate, sensory level, while offering little that endures beyond. It may not be a masterpiece of the genre, but for those willing to overlook the lack of substance, it offers enough “gory-fun” to satisfy the itch for a good physical scare and visceral release.

This outcome is particularly poignant given Cronin’s own philosophy on the project. Having turned down a sequel to his successful Evil Dead Rise to work on The Mummy and reclaim the horror of the IP, he famously noted, “When you make a movie, you have to take risks because it might be your last chance to do it.” In the end, however, I find that Cronin did not take enough risks with this one.