The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2019: The Mummy (1959), directed by Terence Fisher

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Walk Like An Egyptian", by The Bangles

       The mummy, or mummies as the case may be, have long existed in the realm of B-tier monsters. Oh you’ll see them around, on cereal boxes or in comic books or in popular Scooby Doo TV movies and in dozens of movies spread out across cinematic history, including Universal’s recent attempt at using Tom Cruise to recycle the Marvel formula, but they’ve never had the same level of success critically or commercially as vampires or werewolves. Of course there was the 1999’s The Mummy starring Brendan Fraser, which was popular enough to spawn two sequels, a spin off film in The Scorpion King, a cartoon series and probably a video game or two, but it very quickly petered out. Plus we all know that like 80 percent of that franchise’s success was thanks to Brendan Fraser. Dude’s a treasure.

       If I had to explain it, I think the main reason for mummies lack of relevancy is due to its lack of versatility. Unlike zombies, which have molded to a variety of origins, places and times without much hassle, mummies (with few exceptions) have to be connected to Egypt and its royalty, because the guy building the pyramids ain’t getting a gold coffin. Similarly, stories involving mummies tend to be stuck in a period of time between the late 19th and early 20th century, when interest in Egyptology was at its peak and men like Howard Carter were household names, and that whole ‘plundering another country of its cultural and historical artifacts’ thing was treated as harmless fun. Nowadays those pyramids and tombs are no longer a mystery however, and once you move beyond that there’s not much you can actually do with mummies. Frankenstein was written at a time when sticking some frog legs on a battery was a marvelous scientific discovery, and yet it raises questions about scientific ethics and such that are still relevant to the modern age. What ideas is a mummy story trying to evoke? Don’t go into strange tombs to ancient dynasties? Never trust a priest? Always watch your asp? Somehow I doubt it’s going to come up.

       Anyway, today’s film returns us to the halls of Hammer Films, that beloved British production company that gave us previous Marathon entries Horror of Dracula and Doctor Jekyll and Sister Hyde. The late great Peter Cushing plays John Banning, an archeologist/Egyptologist who, along with his father and uncle, head the excavation of the hidden tomb of Ananka, priestess of the god Karnak, much to the chagrin of some of the locals. However the elation of discovery soon turns to tragedy, as John’s father is mysteriously turned into a gibbering wreck while investigating some artifacts. Experts claim it was due to a stroke, but old Professor Banning has another explanation: He was attacked by a mummy, the guardian of Ananka’s tomb, risen from the dead by the reading of an ancient scroll. Now three years later, the mummy is back, this time in jolly old England, in order to finish what it, or perhaps more appropriately, what ol’ Professor Banning started. Hide your throats ladies and gents, because Christopher Lee is in a chokey kind of mood today.

       Unlike Horror of Dracula and Sister Hyde, The Mummy is not an adaptation from any previous literary work. Rather, Hammer’s version of The Mummy takes influence from Universal’s Mummy film, as well as its lesser known sequels. Both films feature a mummy killing folks, obviously, with the mummies being former high priest that were punished for an act of forbidden love with a princess/high priestess, who just so happens to bear a striking resemblance to the lead actress despite them being two different races and about 4000 years apart. It’s interesting to note though that while Karloff in the dusty wrappings is now an iconic image, a close second to his Frankenstein’s Monster, there’s actually very little of the ‘classic’ mummy look in the OG film, and in fact much of the horror in the film is indirect, with Karloff casting magic spells and curses. Hammer’s film is much more direct, and in that way it might be more digestible for a modern audience, who tend to shy away from older, slower paced horror films. The movie is called The Mummy, and you’re damn sure gonna get something that looks like a mummy killing people. 

       That’s about all it has going for it though, in my opinion. It’s a straight line kind of plot, where you can see every development coming from about ten minutes. Which isn’t necessarily a damning thing, horror works within formula so much that even films that satirize horror tropes are a bit cliche, but if you’re going to have a simple framework you’ve got to bring something fresh to the table. Horror of Dracula managed to distinguish itself from its Universal forebear thanks to the advantage of time, color film and less conversative morals allowing Hammer to take things in a bloodier, more risque direction. Sister Hyde played around with the original concept itself, approaching things from a new angle and encouraging others to do the same. The Mummy doesn’t do any of that, and while you could argue that it doesn’t need to, I would say that Hammer, by choosing to do their own Mummy film, which unlike Dracula or Frankenstein has no real prior material that one could source from aside from Karloff’s film, they needed to do something big enough or different enough to be able to say ‘hey, forget Universal. This is The Mummy now’. Which they did not do, in my opinion.

       I would be remiss to finish off this article without mentioning the shining stars of Hammer, the late Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Following the theme of this review though, there’s not much to be said about their performance. Lee is mostly unrecognizable as the long dead Karis and talks maybe once in the entire film, which seems implausible for a man with such a recognizable voice, so that it might as well be anyone in the role. Cushing is fine, although to be honest he seems like a 40 year old in a role meant for a 20 year old. It’s nice to see them together on screen of course, the British Karloff and Lugosi, but it doesn’t have quite the presence it should. Like eating a nice steak at a McDonald’s.

       As I said, what you see on the poster is what you get with Hammer’s The Mummy, and while I can appreciate the honesty in advertising, there just doesn’t seem to be much of a reason to recommend this film. Old school horror fans will likely have already seen it, and new generation fans will balk at the limitations of 50s filmmaking. I suppose you’re in that sweet spot of wanting a ‘something old to watch but not so old that it’s in black and white that you can either turn your brain off with some popcorn and watch or have it on in the background and not have to worry about missing much’ kind of movie this Halloween, then you’ll get some mileage out of this one. Otherwise, just stick with the Brendan Fraser movie like the rest of us cool kids. Or, if you happen to be James Rolfe, stick with the Universal one. They’re just mummies, you ain’t gonna be missing much.

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2017 - Compulsion (1959), directed by Richard Fleischer

Has it been another year already? I certainly feel 365 days closer to death, but then that just me getting character for the season. That's right, it's October again here in the Thunderbird estate, as well as the rest of the world, which means it's time for another 31 movie reviews/impressions/musings. You're gonna see horror, you're gonna see sci-fi, you're gonna see a whole bunch of weird shit I watched that can loosely relate to the celebration of Halloween. There's a couple clunkers, quite a few gems, and everything in between. Check them out, you just might find your next favorite movie.

The Trailer
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The Appropriate Tune: "The Mercy Seat", by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

     Before the advent of psychology and psychiatry, humanity had a very limited understanding of itself, why we act we do. Before we knew what epilepsy was, we assumed that person was possessed by demons. Before we knew what post traumatic stress disorder was, we assumed that those people had shellshock or were even cowards (the British army in WWI even had a habit of shooting those they believed to be ‘cowards’ and ‘deserters’ in fact). Before we knew that the lack of certain chemicals in the brain could severely impact human behavior, we assumed that those people were evil, or monsters, rather than those in need of medical attention. To be fair, since ‘medical attention’ in those days could mean ‘get a hole drilled through your skull’ or any other sort of horrific bullshit you could imagine (amputating limbs and infecting people with tuberculosis was also pretty popular), maybe they were better off being left alone.

     Then again,just because we understand something, or believe we understand it, doesn’t mean we can’t make assumptions. In fact it is that arrogance, that belief that we know more than others and are better than them, that has lead to the biggest blights on our record as a species. Colonialism, holy wars, genocide, corruption, all the way down to plain old simple murder, it all boils down to ‘I’m better than you, so submit’. Even if we don’t believe in witchcraft and demons anymore, even if we’re now ‘genre-savvy’ in regards to the universe, in many ways it’s like we never left the trees.

     Arrogance is the name of the game for 1959’s Compulsion, directed by film great Richard Fleischer (20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Fantastic Voyage, and so on), and starring Orson Welles, Diane Varise and a very young Dean Stockwell, decades before he played a cigar-chomping hologram on Quantum Leap. Based on a novel by Meyer Levin, which was itself based on a 1924 Chicago court case, Compulsion centers around two rich college students: Arthur Straus, a charming yet domineering extrovert and compulsive liar and Judd Steiner, an antisocial wunderkind with an obsession for all things Nietzsche (this was before douchebags flocked to the works of Ayn Rand, you see). Possessed of wealth, status and popularity, convinced of their own innate superiority to their fellow man through modern philosophy, Artie and Judd engage in a series of crimes based on the desire for ‘experiences’, or in the case of Artie, ‘shits and giggles’. Breaking and entering, robbery, attempted hit-and-run, attempted rape, culminating in the kidnapping and violent murder of a young boy named Paul Kessler. The perfect crime, or so they think, until a pair of glasses is discovered on Kessler’s body. Glasses that happen to belong to Judd Steiner.

     When the case eventually reaches court, which it must as a movie based on a court case, and threat of capital punishment seems less a possibility and more a reality, the wealthy parents of Straus and Steiner retain the services of Jonathan Wilk (Welles), a well-known and talented attorney. A noted atheist and humanitarian who champions causes rather than bank accounts, Wilk decides to tackle the case, building a case that Artie and Judd are mentally ill, and should be imprisoned rather than being put to death. However, two prominent state psychiatrists have already dubbed the two ‘completely sane’, and so are fit to stand trial. Sane or insane? The answer to that question holds two lives in the balance, and would set a precedent for the years to come.

     In a lot of ways, Compulsion is very similar to another film that’s been discussed on this blog, to the extent that they might have been based off of the same case: Rope, by the great Alfred Hitchcock. Both featured two young high-society men, the affable mastermind and the silent genius who decide to murder someone because they can, and much of the movie is centered around the unraveling of that so-called perfect crime. Both feature the affable character egging people on, playing fast and loose with the victims and the investigators, while the genius character slowly cracks under the pressure. Both deal heavily on Nietzsche's idea of the superman, of not being bound by the laws of other men in a postwar society. Hell, the actors in Rope even look a bit like Artie and Judd, albeit in color. It can’t be a coincidence.

     Were I to compare the two though, I’d have to go with Rope as the better film, in large part because it feels like you’re only getting half of a movie in Compulsion. You find out that Artie and Judd murder Kessler but you never see it happen, you get a hint of the investigation but not all that much, you see a glimpse of the trial but mostly the end of it, it all goes by the wayside to focus on Artie and Judd’s rocky relationship. Which is fine to a degree, because the actors do a terrific job of highlighting Artie and Judd’s personality disorders, making them definitely seem capable of the act of murder, but it all feels like a lost opportunity in retrospect. I mean the driving force of the film is this murder, you’d think it would be more than a footnote in the film. I could understand why Fleischer wouldn’t show the act or the body, this was still the 50s after all, but couldn’t there be a scene at least hinting it? Showing them case out the area perhaps, choosing Kessler as the one they would kill? Wouldn’t be much, but it would keep the film from feeling truncated.

     Orson Welles puts on a subdued but excellent performance as you’d expect but his part of the film, in particular his closing statements at the end of trial, ends up feeling incongruous with the first half of the film. It’s a great monologue, and were I in the courtroom that day I would certainly been affected, but that speech came after an hour of seeing Artie and Judd living it up. Not once do they appear remorseful of what they did or worthy of sympathy, although Fleischer tries to claim it by mentioning absentee parents and how Judd seems ‘so sad’, neither of which are ever really addressed all that much. They don’t even appear insane, which is the crux of the case for and against them, so by the time that Wilk appears in the story you’re kind of already rooting for them to get what they deserve. Which might have been the point all along, maybe Fleischer was making us root for the death penalty like the public in the film (again, implied not shown) and then having Wilk pull us back from the brink. Which I appreciate, but for me it wasn’t all that effective. Artie and Judd were too good at being unlikable, and I’m a guy who is already completely unsympathetic to rich assholes trying to get away with blatantly ignoring the law.

     That being said, it is a very well-made film with some equally great performances, so I’d say it’s worth a watch. Perhaps in a double feature with Rope, so you can compare and contrast at your leisure. Just don’t get it into your head that you could get away with it, that you could find a way around the law, where these characters failed. If you learn anything from this film, it’s that being an ubermensch just isn’t worth the hassle.