How is Lee Cronin? Good. You know, still making movies. This is his third feature film. Someone (maybe it was Lee Cronin himself, probably not) wanted us to know that his latest project, “Lee Cronin's The Mummy,” wasn't just a simple mummy movie. Certainly not the one you have in mind: a bandaged dead man, sinister hieroglyphics, perhaps Brendan Fraser. This is not that mummy movie. This is “The Mummy of Lee Cronin.”
As to what that possessive credit means, we are still in confusion. Cronin's previous film was “Evil Dead Rise,” a sequel heavily dedicated to the sticky game plan laid out by Fede Álvarez's 2013 rethinking of Sam Raimi's gross-out comedies. In our current moment, when horror seems to be tapping into an especially rich vein (we've even seen an Oscar for an unforgettable witch in “Weapons”), Lee Cronin represents the safe old ways of diligent management, getting the job done for a generic night out.
There are worse sins in the world. And sometimes the best way to present an ancient Egyptian curse is through a prologue whose tone is very similar to that of “The Exorcist.” Who is the creepy smiling woman calling to a little girl at the edge of her garden? It doesn't matter. The boy disappears, and eight years later his American family, since moving to suburban New Mexico, is still feeling the loss: television reporter Charlie (Jack Reynor), his tormented wife Larissa (Laia Costa), and their two half-sullen children, Maud (Billie Roy) and Sebastian (Shylo Molina).
However, when their precious Katie (a play on Natalie Grace) is somehow returned to them, nearly catatonic with wrinkled, parched skin and twisted toenails that would make a pediatric technician scream, it's hard to blame them for feeling elated. Working from his own script, Cronin navigates the big plot holes (a doctor might have some ideas here) and gets to the good stuff with the family at home in squirm-inducing close quarters, with a resident demon lounging in their bedroom.
Read more Over time, things become more obvious: a levitating wheelchair, some gliding across the ceiling. If Cronin has a signature (more of a penchant, really) it's for juicy blood, Katie's skin peeling off in sheets. She goes to the city on her own.
All of these moments are good for audience groans and there's a nice bad movie to be had here—that is, when Cronin isn't directing the action back to Egypt for an underpowered mystery thread involving a one-dimensional Cairo detective (May Calamawy) chasing the root of the problem. Why send in an archeology professor (Mark Mitchinson) if you're just going to give him a single scene to unleash? He's the type of character that usually makes it to the grand finale.
The film is tangled in its mess of references: a possession thriller that also wants to dish out some grainy videos a la “The Ring” or “Bring Her Back” along with the expected word of mouth. Ironically, a heartfelt mummy movie consumed by the exotic (the first in 1932 was released in the wake of the global mania over King Tut's tomb) makes a lot of sense right now, with America veering into foreign deserts.
Was that in mind at any point? You'd have to ask Lee Cronin. It's his movie and these are his mummy problems.
'The Mummy of Lee Cronin'
In English and Arabic, with subtitles.
Classified: R, for very disturbing violent content, blood, language and brief drug use.
Execution time: 2 hours, 13 minutes
Playing: Opens on Friday, April 17 in wide version
