I remember an argument I once had with a friend over the merits of Samuel Clemens. I was praising the remarkable and original humour in his writing, but my friend remained unswayed. This was old stuff, he said. He'd heard these jokes before, seen the sight gags described in the books, been exposed to the same slow build-up to the same comedic pay-off. But when I asked him where he'd come across this material, it quickly turned out that he'd encountered the style and the content in the humour of comedians working in the 1920s,1930s and 1940s,years after Mark Twain had written his last line. For him, Mark Twain was old news because his style had become the style of his inheritors.
"The Mummy" is like this. We've seen it before. But of course we have - we've seen it in films from the 1950s and onwards. Yes, it does borrow from Browning's "Dracula", made just a year before, but it also boldly carves out its own space – it's in "The Mummy", not in "Dracula", that we find human motives for fiendish behaviour. The Mummy does not want to turn humans into the undead – it's exactly the opposite, in fact. What's more, this film serves as the template for a slew of followers, including the trilogy of Brendan Fraser films that have as their other surrogate parent the Indiana Jones series.
But influence is not the only reason to watch this film. There's also Boris Karloff. Zita Johann, the Romanian-born fan of the occult who plays the film's heroine, said when speaking of her co-star that she had never seen such sad eyes. In this role, perhaps beyond all his other work, Karloff embodies sorrow and loss. Of course, the scenes that Zita shares with Boris are, by today's standards, a little hammy. But again, remember that they were here first. It is not surprising that they adhered to acting standards of the day – what is surprising is all those little moments when they surpass them. Look in particular for Zita's acknowledgement of the dilemma she faces in deciding just who she is.
There's something persistently chilling in the atmosphere of this film. It may not make you jump in the modern sense, or have you wincing, but it will get under your skin and, if you are very lucky, into your dreams.
"The Mummy" is like this. We've seen it before. But of course we have - we've seen it in films from the 1950s and onwards. Yes, it does borrow from Browning's "Dracula", made just a year before, but it also boldly carves out its own space – it's in "The Mummy", not in "Dracula", that we find human motives for fiendish behaviour. The Mummy does not want to turn humans into the undead – it's exactly the opposite, in fact. What's more, this film serves as the template for a slew of followers, including the trilogy of Brendan Fraser films that have as their other surrogate parent the Indiana Jones series.
But influence is not the only reason to watch this film. There's also Boris Karloff. Zita Johann, the Romanian-born fan of the occult who plays the film's heroine, said when speaking of her co-star that she had never seen such sad eyes. In this role, perhaps beyond all his other work, Karloff embodies sorrow and loss. Of course, the scenes that Zita shares with Boris are, by today's standards, a little hammy. But again, remember that they were here first. It is not surprising that they adhered to acting standards of the day – what is surprising is all those little moments when they surpass them. Look in particular for Zita's acknowledgement of the dilemma she faces in deciding just who she is.
There's something persistently chilling in the atmosphere of this film. It may not make you jump in the modern sense, or have you wincing, but it will get under your skin and, if you are very lucky, into your dreams.