The Mummy (1932)
Genre: Horror Drama
Starring: Boris Karloff (Frankenstein), Zita Johann
Directed By: Karl Freund
Overview: The Mummy Im-Ho-Tep is uncovered as part of an archaeological dig, but soon awakens, taking with him the scroll of Thoth, the incantation to raise the dead.
Acting:The only actor worth a damn in this movie is Boris. His director is a nobody and the other people are all quite overzealous with their foppy British highborn accents. I actually thought they were fake accents for a while, though I'm still not convinced since over half the crew isn't British... So fake, such unbelievable portrayals. This plays out like bad dinner theater. I'd rather see Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament... hahaha, no I wouldn't.
Cinematography: The make-up for Boris is remarkable. This isn't one of those all crazy out there gorefests with dirty bandages. This mummy is quite human looking, except for a little pastiness in his skin, and the crazy eyes of a monster. The lighting for his close-up shot is really the best part of all of this. Sure the rooms are opulent and the statues are big and cool and... You know what actually, this was alright.
Script: Signs of the 'Affliction of the Early Talkie' include pompous accents, talking for the sake of hearing the neat invention that is Sound Engineering and run on sentences that serve to do nothing more than convolute the plot. To date, anything made between 1930 and 1935 suffers greatly from such a contagious affliction, and though cured in most civilized areas, pockets of film tend to require treatment of quarantine and controlled burn.
Plot: This isn't quite the story you would expect. I thought it would be all archaeologists getting massacred for uttering the words of The Curse out loud, a bandaged up freak hobbling around pointing at people till they either died of a heart attack or seeing the shadow of the hand reach for the shadow of the neck as it crushed out life. You kind of wish it were that, but this actually goes into some Mummy in love crap, which is neat, but not so cool as Egyptian Undead Vengeance for getting woken up.
Mood: No, really, it's Boris Karloff, seriously. Without him this movie would be a turd floating in the Nile. It's a shame that Boris ended up being so exploited in the end of his career, but such is life. Maybe if he wasn't in films where the actors all pose dramatically like some sort of Victorian stage performance, maybe his films would be taken seriously. What is it with the England in the early talkies era? God Almighty.
Overall Rating: 44% (I'm Not Going To Make A 'Mother' Pun Here)