The Mummy: Tom Cruise And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Movie

--Written by Guest Reviewer Jason Rockford Booth 

Okay, first of all, I’d like to start by reminding you that art, skill, and storytelling ability does still exist in the world. 

I think it’s important that I do that over the course of this review so that you will know that all is not lost.  This will be pivotal because, as you will soon see, we will be delving into the dark and depressingly tragic end product that was The Mummy starring Tom Cruise. Now first of all, it takes a bold movie executive to believe that a Brendan Fraser franchise should be revisited in the first place.  There aren’t a lot of screaming throngs desperately flooding the subreddits for a Bedazzled revamp, or a Blast From Past 2: Blast from the Future.  But someone over at Universal is under the impression that they can build a similarly intriguing Monster Universe like that of Marvel’s Avengers or DC’s Justice League. You’re reminded of this right before the beginning of the movie when a film student’s procrastinated thesis project flashes up on the screen with impressive Dolby Digital Sound. “DARK UNIVERSE” the logo reads ominously.  Because that’s definitely what kids are currently interested in. Dracula and the Mummy and the Bride of Frankenstein and Frankenstein’s Monster and the Wolfman and on and on. Right now as we speak, there is some middle school nerd out there just RAVING to his friends about how much he hopes they cast Paul Giamatti as the Creature from the Black Lagoon. This is a studio with their fingers directly on the pulse of youth entertainment preferences. Interestingly enough, there was also a preview of Tom Cruise’s upcoming American Made a couple of minutes prior, just as a reminder that he also still does good films when he feels like it.  

And now would be another good time to check in with you and let you know that everything is going to be okay, and that art still has a place in this crumbling Matrix-of-a-world that we live in.  Do not despair. 

Anyway, back to the viewing experience that zapped away 40 percent of my remaining life force.  

The Mummy is a special brand of suckage—the type that is wedged firmly between taking itself too seriously and not taking itself seriously enough.  It’s almost skillful to be this painstakingly unaware of how bad you are. Tom Cruise manages to make Harrison Ford seem like a better archeologist and Brendan Fraser seem like a better actor. Even Tom Hanks’ Harvard Symbologist or Matthew McConaughey’s treasure hunter (there was once a movie called Sahara believe it or not) seem more believable than this. The film begins with a slide featuring the mysterious Egyptian prayer of resurrection. This brilliant movie-making technique should instantly build our anticipation for how fiction and reality can sometimes swirl together in a terrifying feat of delicate storytelling.  What it actually did was make two different people in my theater chuckle…because, I mean, are they really still trying to remind us that there are Mummies involved?  Shouldn’t that be the centrally implied arc by now? From here, the plot begins to feel like a chain restaurant mojito:  muddled and at times, overly syrupy.  Now, I could write a review where I focus on specific plot points or attempt to relay what it was the director was trying to say with this movie, but that would be an unrealistic endeavor considering the source material. For what followed over the course of the two hours that I was in that theater attempting to drink away the sensory pain of the experience, was hardly something that needed to be analyzed for its contributions to the world of film and cinematography. Instead, I will assign whatever half-hearted nicknames I need to for the characters and lazily describe the poorly strung-together plots points however I see fit.  In other words, I will give this review the same care and attention that the directors and producers saw fit to give. 

Here is another moment where I would like to tell you that you are loved and that there are talented writers creating complex storylines about the human condition and that you should be comforted in their dedication to the craft.   

But back to the middle row of the mostly-empty Regal Cinemas theater where I found myself pounding IPA’s with six other mostly dismayed adults drowning in the cesspool of a poorly chosen matinee decision. The scene begins with some important facts that we’ll apparently need to know.   As far as I can remember…the English are working on a new Chunnel, or something like that, and England, as you all know, is basically one, giant gravesite full of tombs and catacombs artfully crafted by some people who had their resumes ignored by the Disney Imagineer Hiring Team. In one such tunnel, a room full of crusader’s tombs are found.  Knights Templar? You betcha. Don’t think for one second that Dan Brown has beaten that dead horse enough. There’s always a little bit of life left in a horse. Or maybe, that horse is a Mummy (holy crap…I think I know what the sequel is gonna be about!). When all of a sudden, the entire room is cleared out by a mysterious organization dressed all in black, and the man in charge is a very overweight Inspector Javert. At any moment, you can feel that his anger might boil over and cause him to throw a phone at one of the construction workers… instead, he glides to the wall to inspect a plot-device hieroglyph that instantly transports us to ancient Egypt for more super-relevant backstory. 

Now if there is one thing that the Mummy franchise has taught us, it’s that each new unearthed evil is suddenly the most evil evil that has ever eviled. Just because they SAY that last Mummy was the most evil Mummy, doesn’t mean that a more evil Mummy won’t come along eventually. The evil power rankings for Mummies are constantly shifting…and as you know, Stephen A. Smith might have a different top five list than local Egyptian newspaper columnists. So, ya know, keep an open mind about that. The most evil mummy that we’re about to meet? That’d be High-Heeled Blade Girl from Kingsman:  The Secret Service. She was next in line for the throne or something, and then her dad had sex with some other sexy Egyptian lady and now there is a baby boy and she goes all “DOWN WITH THE PATRIARCHY!” on them, only this time she doesn’t use foot blades she uses a carved Egyptian ritual knife which, you know, these people just find or already have in case anyone ever flies off the handle and decides to go all Rosemary’s Baby on every single person they once knew and loved. In this case, some Egyptian God gives it to her because, why not? Oh, yeah, it’s because I guess if she stabs a guy with it then his spirit transfers into that person’s form. And then they can do it and stuff because an eternity of evil rule shouldn’t be without a little romance. So, then there is this whole deal with evil itself thing, because that’s what spoiled girls do when they don’t get their way, they make pacts with the underworld.  In other words, High-Heeled-Blade-Girl-From-Kingsman is really just ancient Egypt’s version of Veruca Salt. After she accepts Beelzebub in her heart or whatever, she gets all of these super hipster/goth/I-hate-my-parents type face tattoos (which are gonna ruin her future job prospects but let me get off my responsible adult soapbox for a minute) and just as she’s about to complete her evil spell of eternal life and world domination…

BLOWDARTS. 

And you thought the writers weren’t going to get a good blowdart scene into this movie! PSSSHHH!  You do realize how many times they rode Indiana Jones at Disneyland during their research, do you not? Auteurs abound here, ladies and gentlemen. So the blowdarts are apparently powerful enough to stop this possessed princess in league with the devil, and from there they bury her outside of Egypt—somewhere NO ONE will ever find her (à la Megatron in the ocean). Cut to present-day Persian Gulf and Tom Cruise is standing in the middle of the desert with his Comic Relief Friend. They’re riding camels and dressed in overly stereotypical Middle Eastern garb. As they peer down at a nearby village, Cruise insists that they must attempt to infiltrate it, even though it’ll soon be swarming with enemy combatants. They’re in the military, just so we’re clear here…and of course everything goes wrong. They’re instantly under siege and trapped on a building and making serious, yet also occasionally wacky, remarks because that’s what you do when you’re a swashbuckling soldier of fortune. An airstrike saves them of course, but then the building collapses into a sinkhole, which I can only assume was meant as an early metaphor for the script at large. The sinkhole reveals the long-hidden tomb of possessed High-Heeled-Blade-Princess, who is currently trapped in a sarcophagus and submerged in a pool of mercury that is strapped down by ropes and other security measures, which I can only assume is an early metaphor for how this film’s acting is supposed to make you feel—like you are trapped in a mercurial pool of Tom Cruise one-liners.   

Tom is now joined by his former lover for some reason, a blonde archeologist who just happens to be a member of Fat Inspector Javert’s secret underground Monster-Fighting Squad that travels around with the military protecting expensive antiquities discovered during the war. She immediately reveals that the two of them (her and Tom) slept together recently, and that this is a very important archeological find and that the colonel will need to ignore whatever criminal charges should probably be filed against these two rogue soldiers who are literally just using their entirely made up positions to go treasure hunting. So after this bit of Deus Sex Machina, Tom, his Comic Relief Friend, and his One-Dimensional Love Interest make their way into the cave to discover said sarcophagus. Even though every dark minor chord in existence is being played for the entirety of the scene, they take the ancient, evil coffin out of its magical bonds, and transport the thing back to England. Even though they are literally being followed by huge waves of crows. Even though there are camel spiders just coming out of nowhere to bow to the Sarcophagus. Even though Tom ran out of facial expressions four scenes ago and even though Comic Relief Guy hasn’t actually given us any relief yet. And even though the love story has about as much chemistry as a Simon and Garfunkle Reunion Tour, the characters trundle ever onward.

The flight goes poorly of course, because you don’t put a possessed princess in coach. [Cue the ‘I Want it Now’ remix about first class and eternal life]. Comic Relief guy is possessed and starts stabbing people. Tom Cruise shoots comic relief guy.  OH GREAT, NOW HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LAUGH?! The plane is attacked by crows, and the only people to survive are Sexy Archeologist love interest and Tom…but only because of black magic. He should’ve died, but High-Heeled Blade Girl wants a corporeal God Lover so he miraculously survives. The next half hour is basically just 30 minutes of special effects work where mummies act either like zombies or dust-monsters depending on what is needed. They can be shot and stabbed, but also just poof into thin air if that works better. Tom is rejoined by his now Undead Comic Relief friend who apparently is also just possessed. The three of them jump from one battle to the next, employing all the tropes of a Harrison Ford scrum with none of the charm. Eventually, they are saved again by Fat Inspector Javert and his army of, I dunno, I think they’re connected to the government maybe? They’re monster hunters okay? I’m tired.  

Anyway, they foil High-Heeled Blade Girl once again right before she is about to make Tom her Eternal God Lover…this time though with spear-guns, not blowdarts. 

Everyone heads back to Prodigium, which is apparently the name of this agency, headquartered directly below the Natural History Museum of London, because, fuck you, that’s what they’re going with. We find out that Fat Javert is not the good guy we thought he was. He wants to let High-Heeled Blade Girl finish her death spell and bring her God Lover to life so they can kill him once and for all, but Tom’s like…eh…I dunno. So everybody fights for a while. Also, Fat Javert is cursed from some Jekyll and Hyde backstory thing (I was pretty tipsy at this point). And while all of this is going on, High-Heeled-Blade-Girl, who is completely tied up with like, industrial strength tubes and chains, takes control of another Red-Shirt and has him basically free her by smashing an electrical box with an axe (best performance in the entire film). She sucks out his life essence and returns to her attractive self. Once again, Deus Sex Machina moves our plot along.

I’d just like to step back in here and remind you that we still have Broadway and brilliant TV shows and strong journalism and thriving writer’s guilds. You are loved and there is goodness in the world.  Art cannot be so easily extinguished.  

Not that it really needs to be forewarned, because this is less of a review and more of a warning against the film, but SPOILERS BELOW of the finale of the film.



Returning to it then—Tom and Love Interest escape Prodigium while being pursued by mummies.  High-Heeled Blade Girl finds her dagger’s ruby from that opening Chunnel Crusader Tomb location and apparently NOW she can finish her ritual.  Oh that’s why she wasn’t able to stab him before…mmmkay. Tom and Love Interest run through the subway tunnels so they can have another creative place to kill Crusader Mummies, and eventually, they come to a large chamber full of water and convenient fighting props where they must face down High-Heeled-Blade-Girl once and for all. She drowns Love Interest because Tom’s heart is clearly torn and then Tom tricks her, steals the dagger, stabs himself so that he can become a god (you see where this is going don’t you?), begins to fall for High-Heeled-Blade Girl because she has those Katie Holmes bangs, but then at the last second, sees his recently-murdered Love Interest who he literally only had sex with like, five days ago, and decides he’s not quite ready for the commitment of a new supernatural forever-relationship.  So he harnesses his new God powers to kill High-Heeled-Blade-Girl, and bring Love Interest back to life. In doing so, he is cursed to live as half Egyptian God/half Tom Cruise for the rest of his days.  But, it also gives him super strong powers and he’s able to bring Comic Relief Guy back from the dead too!  NOBODY DIES IN THIS MOVIE!  

As the two of them ride out into the dessert, we hear Fat Javert’s voiceover explaining that Tom will have to decide whether he is going to allow good or evil to control his destiny, or some shit like that.  

Finally, Tom Cruise looks straight into the camera and says, "I am Tom Cruise, Half Man, Half Egyptian God; and I'd like to talk to you about the Church of Scientology." 

D- (for Red Shirt Guy's acting)