For years, I’ve felt that horror films often treat their audiences like they’re “dumb,” constantly relying on the tired trope of a family willingly throwing themselves into a haunted mansion for no reason. “The Mummy” completely shatters that expectation.

Director Lee Cronin, whose signature style is unleashed in full force following “Evil Dead Rise,” delivers a film that is dark, eerie, and unapologetically horrific. Unlike the sprawling adventure versions of this story we’ve seen in the past, Cronin keeps the scale intimate and the stakes suffocating. The film doesn’t try to build a giant world; instead, it traps you in one main house, with only brief glimpses of other locations. This localized focus makes the nightmare feel inescapable.
The genius of this narrative lies in its setup. The characters aren’t there because they’re looking for trouble; they are forced into this situation when they have to unknowingly bring in a “haunted child.” There is no choice involved, which immediately makes the stakes feel real and grounded. Once the ancient, malevolent force takes hold, the movie transforms into a slow-burning descent into madness. It doesn’t rely on cheap jump scares; it builds a thick, suffocating environment that keeps you locked in from start to finish. You never feel pulled out of the experience, even as the tension reaches a breaking point.
I went into this movie with a completely blank face. Having not seen any promotional material, I didn’t know what to expect from Lee Cronin, but I walked out feeling like I’d just survived the most horrific and traumatizing cinematic experience of the year, and I mean that in the best way possible.
The film is horrifyingly gory. Cronin’s direction is visceral, and by the final act, things get super, super gross. There was a specific point toward the end where I literally felt like I was going to puke. It is rare for a film to have that kind of physical effect on an audience, but the level of practical effects and “gross-out” horror is handled with such skill that you can’t look away.
Beyond the gore, the technical craft is top-tier. The Cinematography is stunningly dark and atmospheric, capturing the claustrophobia of the house perfectly. The prosthetics and costume design go hand in hand with the cinematography, delivering a detailed visual design.

The score is great, perfectly punctuating the eerie silences and the frantic explosions of violence.
“The Mummy” is a slow-burning film, but at no point of time does it feel dragged. It demands your attention and holds it with a vice grip.
It’s true what they say: when a director puts his name on a film, you know it’s going to be a banger. Lee Cronin’s “The Mummy” is an experience that absolutely needs to be seen on the big screen. Just… maybe don’t eat right before you go.



