The Cavblog

Random whittering, geekery and other such stuff from writer Cavan Scott

Welcome to Mummy Monday: The Daddy of all Mummies

It comes to life!

Out of all the classic cinematic monsters, the mummy is one that is largely forgotten or, at least, ignored by modern 21 Century horror. Granted in the ‘90s we had the fireworks of Stephen Sommers’ CGI-fest re-imagining of Imhotep, but while vamps, werewolves and Frankenstein’s spawn pop up time and time again, the Mummy remains festering in its sarcophagus for decades at a time.

Perhaps the Egyptian ghoul has simply been taken over by modern-day zombies – surely its closest unliving relative – but the Mummy seems to be perceived as a charming, but largely anachronistic, terror of yesteryear. However, when you look back at 1932′s The Mummy you see a landmark film you realise how much horror has to thank this Boris Karloff’s classic portrayal of the man out of time.

The Mummy obviously has echoes of Dracula but is in many ways a far superior film. While it contains little actual shocks the overriding sense of creeping horror is outstanding, helped by Karl Freund’s understated direction. While Karloff only appears in full bandage makeup at the start of the film, Freund’s restraint shines through the fact that he doesn’t linger over still-impressive Jack Pierce makeup. Instead, a withered hand, strands of rotten fabric and the viewer’s imagination provide the horror. Later when the Mummy has regained some humanity, Karloff too keeps things close, hardly moving or adding any inflection into his lisping voice, yet invoking more menace than Bela Lugosi ever managed in Dracula. This is never more apparent than when we are treated to extreme close ups of Ardath Bey’s desecrated face as he stares down his opponents. Haunting and powerful even though Karloff hardly twitches a solitary facial muscle.

While The Mummy lacks much of the spectacle of later Mummy movies, and those who just want to see a grunting, bandage–clad zombie smashing through period sets will be sadly disappointed, the daddy of all Mummies betrays sophistication and subtly rarely found in horror movies.

And so, in honour of cinema’s first original monster, every Monday is hereby designated Mummy Monday on the Cavblog! See you back here next Monday for The Mummy’s Hand…

 

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