Lee Cronin’s The Mummy (2026) Review: A Dark Reinvention That Trades Adventure for Psychological Horror

There was always going to be pressure on The Mummy—and not the kind you can ignore.

This is a title that comes with history. Decades of it. When people hear The Mummy, they don’t just think of horror—they think of scale. Adventure. Mystery. Big cinematic moments wrapped in ancient mythology. It’s a franchise that, for most

audiences, is tied to spectacle as much as storytelling.

So naturally, there’s an expectation baked in before the film even begins.

And that’s exactly what makes this version so surprising.

Because instead of leaning into that legacy, Lee Cronin pulls away from it—almost deliberately. He doesn’t try to modernize the classic formula. He doesn’t try to outdo what came before. He strips it down to something far more intimate… and far more disturbing.

What you get isn’t a grand, globe-trotting adventure.

It’s something quieter. Colder. More personal.

Produced by James Wan and Jason Blum, the film trades action for atmosphere and spectacle for psychological tension. This

isn’t about uncovering ancient secrets—it’s about living with them. Watching them take root inside a family and slowly tear it apart from within.

And that shift changes everything.

Because now, the horror doesn’t come from what’s buried in tombs or hidden in the desert.

It comes from what’s sitting right in front of you… wearing a familiar face.

That’s what makes this version of The Mummy feel so different—and why it’s leaving audiences split right down the middle.

What the Movie Is About (And Why It Feels So Different)

At its core, Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is not a monster movie in the traditional sense.

It’s a family horror story.

The film follows a couple whose daughter—long believed lost—returns to them under horrifying circumstances. What should be a miracle quickly turns into something deeply unsettling.

Because she’s not the same.

As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that her body is acting as a vessel for something ancient—an entity bound through ritual mummification, designed not to preserve life, but to contain something far worse.

And the more that containment breaks… the more dangerous everything becomes.

Story Breakdown: From Mystery to Full Psychological Horror

The film opens in Egypt with a haunting sequence that sets the tone immediately—rituals, buried secrets, and a sense that something has been wrong for a long time.

From there, the story shifts into a more grounded setting:

• A family dealing with loss

• A sudden, impossible return

• A slow realization that something isn’t right

Phase 1: The Return

The daughter is found—alive, but barely responsive. The family chooses to bring her home instead of seeking deeper medical help.

That decision drives everything.

Phase 2: The Change

Strange behavior begins:

• Self-harm tendencies

• Unnatural movements

• Disturbing physical transformations

The horror here isn’t loud—it’s creeping.

Phase 3: The Truth

The mythology unfolds:

• A demon bound through ritual

• Ancient inscriptions acting as restraints

• A system designed to trap evil inside a living host

This is where the film leans fully into supernatural horror rather than traditional monster storytelling.

Phase 4: Collapse

As the bindings weaken, the entity gains strength.

What follows is chaos:

• Violence within the family

• Psychological manipulation

• A complete breakdown of trust and safety

By the final act, the film becomes a brutal survival story—one driven by sacrifice rather than escape.

Character Breakdown: Performances That Carry the Film

Jack Reynor as Charlie

Jack Reynor delivers a grounded performance as a father trying to hold his family together.

His arc—from control to desperation—is one of the film’s strongest elements.

Laia Costa as Larissa

Laia Costa brings emotional weight to the story.

She represents the conflict between hope and fear—wanting her daughter back, but realizing the cost.

The Daughter (Katie)

This is the core of the film.

The performance (especially in physical acting) is what sells the horror:

• Unpredictable behavior

• Disturbing presence

• A constant sense that something is “off”

Supporting Cast

• May Calamawy adds investigative tension

• Verónica Falcón brings intensity

They help expand the mythology beyond just the family.

What Works: Atmosphere, Horror, and Commitment

This is where the film succeeds.

• Strong psychological horror tone

• Disturbing, slow-burn tension

• Effective use of body horror

• A clear commitment to a darker vision

It doesn’t try to entertain in a traditional way—it tries to unsettle you.

And often, it does.

What Doesn’t Work: Length, Pacing, and Expectations

At 133 minutes, the film feels longer than it should.

• Some scenes stretch too far

• The pacing dips in the middle

• The emotional beats don’t always land fully

And then there’s the biggest issue:

Expectation vs Reality

If you go in expecting:

• Action

• Adventure

• Classic Mummy-style storytelling

This will disappoint you.

Because that’s not what this movie is.

Final Verdict: A Bold Reinvention That Won’t Work for Everyone

Cronin’s The Mummy is a risk.

It abandons everything people associate with the franchise and replaces it with something darker, slower, and more disturbing.

For some viewers, that’s exactly what makes it interesting.

For others, it’s why the film doesn’t fully connect.

It’s not a crowd-pleaser.

It’s a filmmaker-driven horror experiment.

And whether you appreciate it or not depends entirely on what you wanted it to be.

Rating

6.5/10