THE SHORT VERSION:
Hammer takes on another old school horror classic, and this is their best effort.
       
Christopher Lee’s turn under the bandages is simply brilliant. As is Peter Cushing’s in normal clothes; did you expect anything less? The flashback scenes are marvelously executed. This is the best mummy flick ever made; any classic horror fan should see The Mummy.
COMMENTARY: 
In 1957, Hammer Studios revitalized the old school gothic horror 
genre by tapping into creature library made famous by Universal Studios 
in the 1930s, rewriting the stories, and putting the results up in 
brilliant color.  By 1959, Hammer had finally come to a formal 
arrangement with Universal, allowing them to work with a little more 
ease and not have to go to great lengths in order to avoid being sued.  
The first result out of the gates was The Mummy, and it is some of the best stuff that Hammer ever produced; arguably, it may be the best.

 
The screenplay borrows much from the plots of several of the 
old Universal flicks.  Here, our story begins in Egypt in 1895.  Stephen
 Banning (Felix Aylmer, Becket) and Joseph Whemple (Raymond Huntley; Meet Mr. Lucifer) are two old English archaeologists. Together with Stephen’s son John (Peter Cushing, Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed),
 they have found the entrance to an Ancient Egyptian tomb located far 
off the beaten track.  It is the tomb of Princess Ananka, High Priestess
 of the God Karnak.  As Stephen is about to enter, he is warned by an 
Egyptian named Mehmet Bey (George Pastell, From Russia With Love)
 to turn back before it is too late, but Stephen of course pays him no 
heed. Instead, he unhesitatingly steps inside, and discovers exactly 
the wonderful tomb he had been hoping for.  But then, something goes 
wrong. A scream is heard while Stephen is alone in the tomb, and when 
Joseph comes to see what’s wrong, he finds Stephen draped over the 
sarcophagus a gibbering wreck.

 
A year later, John has taken over the dig, and the audience watches as 
he re-seals the entrance to the tomb, though not before taking its 
treasures out for display at the British museum.  As John and Joseph 
leave, Mehmet Bey steps forth, and vows to get back into the tomb to 
recover the sacred instrument by which the long-buried Princess Ananka 
can be avenged for having her rest disturbed, regardless of how long it 
may take him to do so.  Once he has recovered that instrument, he 
further promises, he will go to the ends of the Earth to use it.
Flash forward to England, 1898.  Anyone care to guess where that 
instrument is going to end up being used, or what it might be?  You’ve 
read the title of the movie, haven’t you? Hammer’s take on The Mummy may borrow heavily from its Universal 
predecessors, but there can be no question that this film is superior to
 all of those that came before in every way.  Well told, tightly 
directed, and superbly acted, this movie comes as close to being perfect
 as one is ever going to find in mid-century horror.

 
It all starts with the reliable pen of Hammer favorite Jimmy Sangster.  
Yes, the story he writes if a familiar one that any mummy movie fan has 
seen before, but he weaves its elements together so well that the 
audience doesn’t necessarily notice, and even if they do, what they 
notice is that be taking only the best of the old pieces and adding in a
 few of his own, he’s written a superior story.  Things are further 
helped along by Hammer’s other “old reliable,” Director Terence Fisher, 
here doing what may indeed be his finest work.  The pacing of The Mummy
 is constant: always in motion even when the action is at a break.  
Thanks to the atmosphere that Fisher’s direction generates, even 
conversations held over a desk carry tension, and action sequences that 
could easily have gone wrong given that they involve a lumbering mummy 
and a man with a bum leg (very nice touch, that) instead carry a high 
level of thrill and excitement.  Fisher also has an excellent sense of 
when to pull that action trigger, knowing exactly how long to hold the 
anticipatory suspense before letting the audience have it for maximum 
effect.  Directorially speaking, The Mummy truly is flawless.

 
A particular treat comes during the film’s flashback sequences.  
Normally, such sequences kill pacing for the greater good of telling the
 story, but here, no such pacing sacrifice is made; it all just flows.  They’re also quite gorgeous to look at, as the production design for The Mummy
 is first rate. Ananka’s tomb is wonderfully realized and appropriately
 filled with the treasures of a Princess (this absolutely does not
 look like some cheap, dusty old set), and as we see it during the 
flashback, exquisitely painted.  Also standing out is the view we have 
of Ananka as she lies freshly placed in her sarcophagus: she looks 
elegant, her death mask masterfully designed, and – most impressive to 
me as a detail – she is completely surrounded by flowers when many would
 have been happy just to have her lie in an empty box and be done with 
it.  It’s these little things that help to make good movies great.  When
 we see the tomb in “present” day, it is also wonderfully aged, 
maintaining all of its majesty while still clearly showing the ravages 
of time.  There’s just no such thing as sloppy work here.
 Along with the look and the direction, another element that makes the 
flashbacks so compelling is that they get their supporting narration 
from Peter Cushing, who easily has one of the greatest voices in all of 
motion picture history.  As anyone at all familiar with the man’s work 
can expect, Cushing put in a marvelous performance throughout the entire
 film, not only carrying the audience to the past with his voice, but 
hold our attention in the present with his action.  Cushing is at his 
best here, breathing into his character the intellectual joy of an 
academic as well as the strength of purpose that all film heroes 
require.  (A particularly superb scene for showing off Cushing’s skills 
involves a rapid fire conversation between his character and Mehmet Bey 
about, among other things, the nature of archaeology, which actually 
sounds quite at home amidst modern academic debates on the subject.)  
It’s also interesting to see how an actor famous for always being in 
motion handles the script challenge of a permanently injured leg, and 
the answer is: wonderfully.  He never forgets the injury and always 
plays it, but he doesn’t overplay it as so many others might, and
 if you’ve ever had an injured leg for any amount of time, you’ll also 
see that he makes his adaptations accurately.  He compels one’s 
attention every moment that he is on the screen.
Along with the look and the direction, another element that makes the 
flashbacks so compelling is that they get their supporting narration 
from Peter Cushing, who easily has one of the greatest voices in all of 
motion picture history.  As anyone at all familiar with the man’s work 
can expect, Cushing put in a marvelous performance throughout the entire
 film, not only carrying the audience to the past with his voice, but 
hold our attention in the present with his action.  Cushing is at his 
best here, breathing into his character the intellectual joy of an 
academic as well as the strength of purpose that all film heroes 
require.  (A particularly superb scene for showing off Cushing’s skills 
involves a rapid fire conversation between his character and Mehmet Bey 
about, among other things, the nature of archaeology, which actually 
sounds quite at home amidst modern academic debates on the subject.)  
It’s also interesting to see how an actor famous for always being in 
motion handles the script challenge of a permanently injured leg, and 
the answer is: wonderfully.  He never forgets the injury and always 
plays it, but he doesn’t overplay it as so many others might, and
 if you’ve ever had an injured leg for any amount of time, you’ll also 
see that he makes his adaptations accurately.  He compels one’s 
attention every moment that he is on the screen.
 

 
Given how much power is conveyed by Christopher Lee’s voice and again by
 his facial features, one might wonder how much is sacrificed by the 
fact that in this role, he’s wrapped up almost entirely in bandages and 
unable to speak (his tongue is actually removed in one of the 
flashbacks, the prior to that, one does get to see and hear Lee 
unmummified), especially if one has already seen how things ended up 
when he took a turn as Frankenstein’s monster.  The answer is that 
nothing at all is sacrificed, and that indeed, this film’s mummy may be 
the finest of all of Christopher Lee’s Hammer monster performances, even
 rivaling his most famous role as Count Dracula.  This is a mummy with 
range, and Lee is able to convey that through both body language and the
 only part of his face left for the audience to see: his eyes.  When 
Kharis is wrapped in flashback and about to be entombed, Lee’s eyes 
convey not just fear, but absolute terror.  (And how often do you see a 
scared mummy?)  When Mehmet Bey pushes Kharis too far, Lee through his 
eyes alone expresses a face exploding with rage, and when Kharis sees 
Isobel (Yvonne Furneaux, Frankenstein’s Great Aunt Tillie) and 
sees in her the features of Ananka, the love there is unmistakable.  
What’s most remarkable about all of this is that Lee is able to switch 
these expressions in a mere instant, which again without the benefit of a
 visible face is simply amazing.
 Our mummy, though, is expressive with more than just his eyes; this 
mummy is violent.  Our first introduction to Kharis as a killer involves
 him having to get through three different layers of a sanatorium 
window, first bending back bars, then shattered glass, and then shoving 
free an interior grate.  The violence of this moment can only be 
described as explosive, and that’s before he comes in and actually gets 
down to the business of murder.  All in all, my reaction to this scene 
comes down to a single word: WOW.  This may be one of the most effective
 color-era classic horror monster moments ever, and incredibly, it’s 
followed up by another one later on when Kharis literally crashes 
through a door to reach his next victim.  [It is also a testament to 
Christopher Lee’s remarkable strength that this door was really bolted 
shut when he crashed through it.  That’s the take you really see on the 
screen.  It resulted in one of several injuries Lee suffered on the set,
 and yet, professional that he is, he acted through all of them.]  No 
mummy filmed before or since has been so effective as this one, and 
here, even Christopher Lee’s real-life next door neighbor, the great 
Boris Karloff, must bow to a superior performance.  This truly is a 
monster to be reckoned with.
Our mummy, though, is expressive with more than just his eyes; this 
mummy is violent.  Our first introduction to Kharis as a killer involves
 him having to get through three different layers of a sanatorium 
window, first bending back bars, then shattered glass, and then shoving 
free an interior grate.  The violence of this moment can only be 
described as explosive, and that’s before he comes in and actually gets 
down to the business of murder.  All in all, my reaction to this scene 
comes down to a single word: WOW.  This may be one of the most effective
 color-era classic horror monster moments ever, and incredibly, it’s 
followed up by another one later on when Kharis literally crashes 
through a door to reach his next victim.  [It is also a testament to 
Christopher Lee’s remarkable strength that this door was really bolted 
shut when he crashed through it.  That’s the take you really see on the 
screen.  It resulted in one of several injuries Lee suffered on the set,
 and yet, professional that he is, he acted through all of them.]  No 
mummy filmed before or since has been so effective as this one, and 
here, even Christopher Lee’s real-life next door neighbor, the great 
Boris Karloff, must bow to a superior performance.  This truly is a 
monster to be reckoned with.
 

 
One must also take a moment to recognize the look given to Lee’s mummy. 
 For many, a mummy is just bandages and go, but the costume department 
here recognized the costume as more than that.  The wrappings are 
wonderfully done, and the effects of age and being drenched in a bog are
 also gorgeously realized, which is especially challenging in the age of
 color.  Just enough strips are left hanging to give a notion of wear, 
and even though only the actor’s eyes are left exposed for him the 
express with, the facial bandages are wrapped in such a way that during a
 close up shot, it’s still possible to recognize that there is a real 
face beneath.  You won’t see an expression, but there’s just enough of a
 hint of real humanity there to give Kharis that much more life, and oh 
how that pays off.

 
After watching this movie again, it floors me to think that Hammer’s rendition of The Mummy
 doesn’t get nearly the same attention as its more prolific Dracula and 
Frankenstein films do.  This is easily the best of their original 
classic horror titles, and indeed may be their best horror film, 
period.  Wonderfully scripted, tightly directed, and amazingly acted, at
 the end of the day, The Mummy really is as close to perfect as one is ever likely to get on a Hammer budget.
 Bottom line, Hammer’s The Mummy is arguably the finest film the 
studio ever produced; if it isn’t, it’s definitely top three.  It is 
also beyond doubt the finest mummy movie any studio has ever produced up
 through the present day, and for any fan of the genre, this movie is 
one that simply needs to be owned.  It’s just too good to stay in the 
tomb, and absolutely deserves to be rediscovered by the masses and given
 props as one of the true greats of classic horror.
Bottom line, Hammer’s The Mummy is arguably the finest film the 
studio ever produced; if it isn’t, it’s definitely top three.  It is 
also beyond doubt the finest mummy movie any studio has ever produced up
 through the present day, and for any fan of the genre, this movie is 
one that simply needs to be owned.  It’s just too good to stay in the 
tomb, and absolutely deserves to be rediscovered by the masses and given
 props as one of the true greats of classic horror. 
IMAGES: MARCUS BROOKS