Tale of the Mummy

Known as Talos the Mummy in select countries, 1998's Tale of the Mummy came to fruition during an untimely phase in the genre.  Mind you, horror was hot.  Slashers, in particular, were hot.  Jennifer Love-Hewitt was hot.  She's still fucking hot, now that my cock thinks about it, but I have forgotten the kernel crux of my argument.  Oh!  The late 90's were only untimely in the sense that this flick's cries for attention were muffled beneath a boodle of other mummy-centric motion pictures.  No, the Brendan Fraser lark doesn't count.  You're forgetting a few.  Like that one.  And that one, remember that one?

I'm being an ass, but there are fluid ounces of truth in my perorated ramblings.  I was a devout Fangoria subscriber in 1998, and I distinctly recall confusion (on my part, natch) over which mummy movie would be released first.  The release dates kept tripping me.  I ended up renting Bram Stoker's The Mummy for two reasons: A) The cheap exploitation of Stoker's handle.  Give me a break; I was barely a teenager.  B) The box art!  That sweet, sweet VHS cover literally resembled Christmas wrapping paper.  How could I resist?  Anyway, the film was fragmented sewage.  I made the wrong call, but for a reason that escapes me, I waited a couple of decades to try out Tale of the Mummy.

Compared to The Mummy (the Stoker version, for lack of better identification), the story of Talos is less sleazy and less bland.  You're probably asking, "Isn't that a contradiction?"  Yeah, but it makes sense.  And I promise that's the last time I cite The Crummy as a reference.  The plot isn't worth recapping.  Archaeologists unearth the sarcophagus of a tyrannical prince, and against the wishes of cautionary text, break the seal in a bid to glom onto treasure.  The granddaughter of the excavator in charge finds blah blah, blahing the blah.  A mummy is loose!  That's all you need to know.

Christopher Lee stars in the prologue.  So that's cool.  For the most part, Tale is entertaining, and that's in the face of considerable flaws.  Looking back, I'm surprised that I came away from this sandy cenotaph with a positive opinion.  I was never bored.  That's a big deal, in my eyes.  What's more, the cast is comprised of such funambulists* as Jason Scott Lee, Louise Lombard, Sean Pertwee, Shelley Duvall, and Gerard Butler.  Tight performances, all.  I already name-dropped Christopher Lee, but that's a name that can be dropped multiple times.  Believe it or not, I don't recall him being milked in the marketing materials.  That was a job for Funnyman.

The flaws...where do I start?  I don't want this review to be eight million characters long, so I'll abridge my remarks.  The international version of Tale runs for two hours.  American distributors decided to snip 30 goddamn minutes, which is why the exposition feels hectic and subitaneous.  It's almost as if the first act is trying to jump straight to the climax.  I loved the practical effects.  Unfortunately, roughly 60% (the actual percentage may be higher) of the special effects are digital.  Hate to say it, but the CGI is patchy, even for 1998.  It's just bad.

I respect the ballsy denouement.  I certainly didn't see it coming, but it's...it's weird.  Talos (the heavy) awakens, and as Satan as my witness, he is nine feet tall.  Why?  Don't know.  He wasn't a giant in human form.  To be honest, he looks like a clay figure from a Tool video.  Mummies roar, by the way.  Yep.  I do recommend Tale of the Mummy, as it occupies a space between "pretty good" and "laughably terrible."  You want to occupy that space, too.

*A funambulist is a tightrope walker.  It doesn't really fit there, but ever since I learned it, I've wanted to use it.  Woooords!