A Masterclass in Modern Body Horror
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is a visceral, ‘gore-riffic’ masterpiece that effectively dismantles everything you thought you knew about this ancient franchise and replaces it with a relentless, bone-chilling nightmare.
Following his work on Evil Dead Rise( 2023), Cronin proves once again that he is a maestro of the macabre, delivering a film that is undoubtedly the most genuinely terrifying and ‘fucked-up’ iteration of The Mummy to ever grace the screen.
This is not a film of dusty tombs and slow-moving bandages; it is a disturbing, atmospheric descent into a reunion that should be a miracle but instead becomes a living hell.
The story centres on the broken family of a journalist whose young daughter vanished into the desert eight years ago without a trace. When she is suddenly returned to them, the initial joy is rapidly eclipsed by a heavy, suffocating atmosphere of dread as they realize that whatever came back is not entirely human.
Cronin’s brilliance lies in his ability to weave a narrative that works on multiple levels.
On the surface, it is a staggering fusion of supernatural and body horror, but peeling back the layers, underneath, it is a profoundly disturbing exploration of a family’s grief and the psychological trauma of having to confront the unknowable truth of what happened to their child.
What makes this reimagining so effective is that every ‘gore-riffic’ sequence is crafted with absolute purpose.
Cronin’s script is lean and meticulously worked out, ensuring that every drop of blood and every revolting bodily transformation services the plot rather than existing for mere spectacle. The body horror here is designed for maximum discomfort; it is visceral, intimate, and intentionally repulsive, getting deep into your head and literally under your skin.
It is one of the best examples of the genre this year because it understands that true terror comes from the corruption of the familiar and the sacred bond of family.
The film offers a unique mystery for the audience to discover, one that feels refreshingly real and terrifyingly grounded rather than being needlessly convoluted.
The tension builds with a slow, agonizing crawl, maintaining a heavy, oppressive mood that never lets up. When the horror finally hits, Cronin refuses to pull back, leaning into the grotesque with a confidence that is as impressive as it is upsetting. By shifting the focus away from traditional blockbuster action and toward a more claustrophobic, psychological dread, the film achieves a level of effectiveness that few reboots ever manage.
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is a brilliant lesson in how to breathe new life into an aging franchise by taking a sharp, dark turn into uncompromising horror. It is a disturbing, expertly paced, and genuinely effective film that stays with you long after the credits roll.
By focusing on the emotional wreckage of a shattered family and pairing it with some of the most inventive body horror in recent memory, Cronin has created a film that is not just different, but a landmark entry in modern horror that is as meaningful as it is monstrous.
Showing in cinemas from Friday, 17 April.
-Dirk Lombard Fourie