Lee Cronin's The Mummy Movie Review: "Some things are meant to stay buried."
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy (2026) marks the Irish filmmaker’s third feature and his boldest swing yet at revitalizing a classic horror property. Fresh off the success of Evil Dead Rise (2023), Cronin—writing and directing—reimagines Universal’s iconic mummy franchise not as a swashbuckling adventure like the Brendan Fraser films or the ill-fated 2017 Tom Cruise vehicle, but as a visceral, R-rated supernatural horror grounded in family trauma and body horror. Produced by James Wan, Jason Blum, and others under New Line Cinema, Blumhouse, and Atomic Monster, the film premiered in Los Angeles on April 9, 2026, and hit theaters worldwide on April 17. Clocking in at approximately 2 hours 13-14 minutes, it leans heavily into gore and psychological dread, distancing itself from prior entries by focusing on an ancient evil possessing a child rather than a bandaged monster rampaging through action set pieces. Early reviews describe it as ambitious and gnarly, though opinions split on whether its gross-out ambitions overcome pacing issues.
Plot Overview
The story opens in Cairo, Egypt, where journalist Charlie Cannon (Jack Reynor) lives with his wife Larissa (Laia Costa), their son Sebastián, and young daughter Katie. After a tense family moment, Katie slips away to play with a mysterious “secret friend” named Layla, who has been grooming her with candy. In a chilling sequence involving a local magician (Hayat Kamille), Katie vanishes into the desert without a trace, shattering the family.
Eight years later, the Cannons have relocated to a creaky old house in New Mexico, living with Larissa’s mother Carmen (Verónica Falcón) and now including a new daughter, Maud. The broken family is stunned when Katie is discovered alive in the wreckage of a plane crash, seemingly preserved inside an ornate sarcophagus. What begins as a miraculous reunion quickly spirals into nightmare as Katie—played with eerie intensity by Natalie Grace—exhibits disturbing changes. Doctors note symptoms resembling locked-in syndrome, but something far more ancient and malevolent stirs beneath her skin. As her behavior grows increasingly horrifying and her body begins to transform, the family confronts an evil tied to a disturbed ancient tomb, forcing them to battle not just for their daughter but for their own survival. The narrative blends elements of possession horror (echoing The Exorcist) with Cronin’s signature family-under-siege dynamics, culminating in a chaotic, blood-soaked climax.
Performances
Jack Reynor anchors the film as Charlie, a once-ambitious reporter now weighed down by guilt and grief. His portrayal captures the quiet desperation of a father desperate to reclaim normalcy, though some critics note a certain detachment that occasionally undercuts emotional peaks. Laia Costa brings grounded vulnerability to Larissa, the nurse-mother torn between hope and horror; her scenes of maternal instinct clashing with revulsion are among the film’s most affecting. Young Natalie Grace delivers a standout turn as the returned Katie, shifting seamlessly from fragile victim to something unnervingly predatory—her physical commitment to the role’s grotesque demands elevates the body horror.
Supporting players add texture: May Calamawy as a determined detective investigating the case, Verónica Falcón as the no-nonsense grandmother providing both warmth and comic relief, and the younger cast members (including Shylo Molina as teen Sebastián and Billie Roy as Maud) who sell the family’s fracturing bonds. Overall, the ensemble commits fully to Cronin’s intense vision, even when the script occasionally prioritizes spectacle over deeper character development.
Technical Aspects
Cronin’s direction, paired with strong technical execution, shines brightest in the horror set pieces. Cinematography captures the oppressive heat of Egyptian deserts and the shadowy isolation of the New Mexico home with a gritty, textured realism that amplifies unease. Practical effects and prosthetics take center stage—rubbery, squishy transformations and visceral gore sequences feel tactile and disturbingly real, continuing the director’s Evil Dead Rise tradition of hands-on brutality over heavy CGI reliance.
Sound design is aggressively effective, with creaking floors, unsettling whispers, and sudden bursts of violence creating a relentless auditory assault. The score blends traditional horror stingers with Middle Eastern motifs to underscore the ancient curse’s intrusion into modern life. Editing maintains tension in early acts but struggles during the extended finale, where rapid cuts and escalating chaos can feel overwhelming rather than precise. At over two hours, the film’s length tests patience, particularly in its slower procedural middle section exploring the entity’s origins.
Strengths
The film’s greatest asset is its commitment to unapologetic, gross-out horror. Cronin injects juicy, squirm-inducing practical effects and dark humor—think a wake gone bloodily awry—into the mummy mythos, making it feel fresh and meaner than previous iterations. By centering the story on parental fears and the rot within a nuclear family, it adds emotional stakes often missing from monster movies. The possession angle cleverly twists the classic “mummy’s curse” into something intimate and domestic, while standout practical gore and strong child performances deliver memorable shocks. Fans of Cronin’s previous work will appreciate the relentless brutality and fiendish creativity in how the ancient force manifests.
Weaknesses
Pacing proves a significant hurdle. The runtime feels padded, especially in the investigative segments that drag before the horror fully erupts, leading to a sense of monotony amid repeated cruelty. Some critics argue the film becomes numbing rather than thrilling as the violence escalates without enough variation or deeper thematic payoff. Reynor’s performance, while solid, occasionally feels miscast in its emotional register, and the script’s blend of supernatural procedural and family drama doesn’t always cohere seamlessly. Rubberier prosthetic moments can tip into unintentional humor, undercutting dread, and the finale, while spectacularly loud and gory, risks feeling exhausting rather than cathartic. Compared to Evil Dead Rise, it lacks the same tight momentum.
Final Verdict
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is a bold, blood-drenched reimagining that prioritizes visceral horror over spectacle, succeeding as a nasty, family-focused frightfest even if it doesn’t fully unwrap its potential. It’s more exorcism saga than traditional mummy tale, delivering plenty of gnarly practical effects and personal stakes that horror fans will savor, but its overlong structure and occasional tonal wobbles prevent it from achieving classic status. Cronin proves once again he has a knack for revitalizing undead tropes with modern dread, though tighter editing could have elevated it further.
Rating: 6.8/10 A solid, squishy horror effort that entertains with its audacious grossness but gets somewhat entombed by its own ambitions. Worth a theatrical watch for gorehounds, but it may not convert skeptics of the franchise.
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy (2026) marks the Irish filmmaker’s third feature and his boldest swing yet at revitalizing a classic horror property. Fresh off the success of Evil Dead Rise (2023), Cronin—writing and directing—reimagines Universal’s iconic mummy franchise not as a swashbuckling adventure like the Brendan Fraser films or the ill-fated 2017 Tom Cruise vehicle, but as a visceral, R-rated supernatural horror grounded in family trauma and body horror. Produced by James Wan, Jason Blum, and others under New Line Cinema, Blumhouse, and Atomic Monster, the film premiered in Los Angeles on April 9, 2026, and hit theaters worldwide on April 17. Clocking in at approximately 2 hours 13-14 minutes, it leans heavily into gore and psychological dread, distancing itself from prior entries by focusing on an ancient evil possessing a child rather than a bandaged monster rampaging through action set pieces. Early reviews describe it as ambitious and gnarly, though opinions split on whether its gross-out ambitions overcome pacing issues.
Plot Overview
The story opens in Cairo, Egypt, where journalist Charlie Cannon (Jack Reynor) lives with his wife Larissa (Laia Costa), their son Sebastián, and young daughter Katie. After a tense family moment, Katie slips away to play with a mysterious “secret friend” named Layla, who has been grooming her with candy. In a chilling sequence involving a local magician (Hayat Kamille), Katie vanishes into the desert without a trace, shattering the family.
Eight years later, the Cannons have relocated to a creaky old house in New Mexico, living with Larissa’s mother Carmen (Verónica Falcón) and now including a new daughter, Maud. The broken family is stunned when Katie is discovered alive in the wreckage of a plane crash, seemingly preserved inside an ornate sarcophagus. What begins as a miraculous reunion quickly spirals into nightmare as Katie—played with eerie intensity by Natalie Grace—exhibits disturbing changes. Doctors note symptoms resembling locked-in syndrome, but something far more ancient and malevolent stirs beneath her skin. As her behavior grows increasingly horrifying and her body begins to transform, the family confronts an evil tied to a disturbed ancient tomb, forcing them to battle not just for their daughter but for their own survival. The narrative blends elements of possession horror (echoing The Exorcist) with Cronin’s signature family-under-siege dynamics, culminating in a chaotic, blood-soaked climax.
Performances
Jack Reynor anchors the film as Charlie, a once-ambitious reporter now weighed down by guilt and grief. His portrayal captures the quiet desperation of a father desperate to reclaim normalcy, though some critics note a certain detachment that occasionally undercuts emotional peaks. Laia Costa brings grounded vulnerability to Larissa, the nurse-mother torn between hope and horror; her scenes of maternal instinct clashing with revulsion are among the film’s most affecting. Young Natalie Grace delivers a standout turn as the returned Katie, shifting seamlessly from fragile victim to something unnervingly predatory—her physical commitment to the role’s grotesque demands elevates the body horror.
Supporting players add texture: May Calamawy as a determined detective investigating the case, Verónica Falcón as the no-nonsense grandmother providing both warmth and comic relief, and the younger cast members (including Shylo Molina as teen Sebastián and Billie Roy as Maud) who sell the family’s fracturing bonds. Overall, the ensemble commits fully to Cronin’s intense vision, even when the script occasionally prioritizes spectacle over deeper character development.
Technical Aspects
Cronin’s direction, paired with strong technical execution, shines brightest in the horror set pieces. Cinematography captures the oppressive heat of Egyptian deserts and the shadowy isolation of the New Mexico home with a gritty, textured realism that amplifies unease. Practical effects and prosthetics take center stage—rubbery, squishy transformations and visceral gore sequences feel tactile and disturbingly real, continuing the director’s Evil Dead Rise tradition of hands-on brutality over heavy CGI reliance.
Sound design is aggressively effective, with creaking floors, unsettling whispers, and sudden bursts of violence creating a relentless auditory assault. The score blends traditional horror stingers with Middle Eastern motifs to underscore the ancient curse’s intrusion into modern life. Editing maintains tension in early acts but struggles during the extended finale, where rapid cuts and escalating chaos can feel overwhelming rather than precise. At over two hours, the film’s length tests patience, particularly in its slower procedural middle section exploring the entity’s origins.
Strengths
The film’s greatest asset is its commitment to unapologetic, gross-out horror. Cronin injects juicy, squirm-inducing practical effects and dark humor—think a wake gone bloodily awry—into the mummy mythos, making it feel fresh and meaner than previous iterations. By centering the story on parental fears and the rot within a nuclear family, it adds emotional stakes often missing from monster movies. The possession angle cleverly twists the classic “mummy’s curse” into something intimate and domestic, while standout practical gore and strong child performances deliver memorable shocks. Fans of Cronin’s previous work will appreciate the relentless brutality and fiendish creativity in how the ancient force manifests.
Weaknesses
Pacing proves a significant hurdle. The runtime feels padded, especially in the investigative segments that drag before the horror fully erupts, leading to a sense of monotony amid repeated cruelty. Some critics argue the film becomes numbing rather than thrilling as the violence escalates without enough variation or deeper thematic payoff. Reynor’s performance, while solid, occasionally feels miscast in its emotional register, and the script’s blend of supernatural procedural and family drama doesn’t always cohere seamlessly. Rubberier prosthetic moments can tip into unintentional humor, undercutting dread, and the finale, while spectacularly loud and gory, risks feeling exhausting rather than cathartic. Compared to Evil Dead Rise, it lacks the same tight momentum.
Final Verdict
Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is a bold, blood-drenched reimagining that prioritizes visceral horror over spectacle, succeeding as a nasty, family-focused frightfest even if it doesn’t fully unwrap its potential. It’s more exorcism saga than traditional mummy tale, delivering plenty of gnarly practical effects and personal stakes that horror fans will savor, but its overlong structure and occasional tonal wobbles prevent it from achieving classic status. Cronin proves once again he has a knack for revitalizing undead tropes with modern dread, though tighter editing could have elevated it further.
Rating: 6.8/10 A solid, squishy horror effort that entertains with its audacious grossness but gets somewhat entombed by its own ambitions. Worth a theatrical watch for gorehounds, but it may not convert skeptics of the franchise.
