The Mummy (1999) – Review

There was a time when Universal’s monsters were tragic figures draped in shadows and existential misery. Then 1999 happened, and suddenly The Mummy decided brooding was overrated and explosions were more fun. The result is a film that gleefully ditches the doom and gloom of 1932 in favour of a rollicking, wisecracking adventure that feels like it downed three espressos and ran straight into the desert.

We begin in ancient Thebes, 1290 BC, because nothing says “light adventure romp” like ritualistic betrayal and eternal curses. Pharaoh Seti I walks in on his high priest Imhotep (Arnold Vosloo) having an affair with his mistress Anck-su-namun (Patricia Velásquez), which goes about as well as you’d expect for everyone involved except the audience. Murder happens, she kills herself for dramatic flair, and Imhotep tries to resurrect her, only to be caught by the Medjai and sentenced to the cinematic equivalent of “absolutely not.” He’s buried alive with flesh-eating scarabs, cursed for eternity, and everyone vows to never let this incredibly bad idea happen again.

Humanity will, of course, immediately fail at that.

Jump ahead to 1926 Cairo, where librarian Evelyn Carnahan (Rachel Weisz) somehow manages to be both brilliant and catastrophically clumsy. Her brother Jonathan (John Hannah), a walking bad decision, brings her a mysterious box and a map to the lost city of Hamunaptra, which he stole from Rick O’Connell (Brendan Fraser), currently enjoying prison life. Evelyn frees Rick through a combination of charm and questionable negotiations with a corrupt warden, because clearly the best person to guide you through cursed ruins is a guy who already barely survived them once.

It also helps if he’s a bit of a beefcake.

They head into the desert and run into a competing group of Americans, because colonial treasure hunting apparently works better as a group sport. These geniuses are guided by Beni Gabor (Kevin J. O’Connor), Rick’s former colleague and current embodiment of cowardice. The Medjai, led by Ardeth Bay (Oded Fehr), show up to warn everyone to leave, which is treated with the seriousness of a “do not touch” sign at a museum. Naturally, both expeditions start digging. The Americans find the Book of the Dead and some jars, while Evelyn’s group finds Imhotep’s remains, which should have come with a massive “please don’t read anything out loud” disclaimer.

That is one juicy mummy.

Evelyn, proving that literacy can be dangerous, reads from the Book of the Dead and resurrects Imhotep. Chaos follows. Imhotep hunts down those who opened the chest, unleashes plagues, and generally turns Cairo into his personal horror show while rebuilding himself piece by piece. The group learns that he plans to resurrect Anck-su-namun using Evelyn as a human sacrifice, because clearly, she hasn’t done enough already. After losing allies, including Dr. Bey (Erick Avari), they return to Hamunaptra with pilot Winston Havelock (Bernard Fox), who dies in a sandstorm because this movie collects side characters like trading cards.

A signature moment in the film.

Back at the city, everything escalates into supernatural mayhem. Jonathan and Rick retrieve the Book of Amun-Ra, Ardeth fights off undead minions, and Evelyn is prepped for ritual sacrifice. In a rare moment of competence, the heroes actually pull off a plan: Evelyn makes Imhotep mortal, Rick stabs him, and the ancient priest dramatically dissolves while promising revenge, because villains are contractually obligated to do so. Meanwhile, Beni loots treasure, triggers a trap, and gets devoured by scarabs in one of the most deserved deaths in adventure cinema. The survivors escape as the city collapses, unknowingly carrying off some of Ben’s looted gold on the way out.

A nice ride off into the sunset.

Stray Observations:

• Evelyn reads from an ancient cursed book out loud without understanding it. This is the academic equivalent of pressing every button in a nuclear submarine to “see what happens.”
• The Medjai repeatedly warn everyone to leave, and everyone collectively decides, “No, I think we’ll stay and die.”
• Beni switches sides so often he should come with a rotating loyalty indicator.
• Rick survives multiple supernatural encounters, gunfights, and a plane crash, but somehow still trusts anyone in this movie.
• The prison warden had agreed to release a dangerous inmate for treasure. Shockingly, this ends poorly for him.
• Jonathan accidentally saves the day while mostly trying not to die, which might be the most relatable character arc here.
• Beni gets eaten alive by scarabs while clutching gold. If greed had a mascot, it’s this guy.
• When being hunted by an all-powerful Egyptian mummy, it’s very important to be surrounded by the right kind of people.

This group is par excellence. 

Getting this film made was apparently its own cursed adventure. At various points, Universal flirted with wildly different tones. Clive Barker envisioned a darker, low-budget horror take, which would have leaned heavily into the grotesque. Then George Romero, because why not add zombies to everything, had his own version that pushed it into straight horror territory. Somewhere along the way, sanity or at least box office logic prevailed, and Stephen Sommers stepped in with the radical idea that audiences might enjoy having fun. His pitch leaned into the spirit of Indiana Jones and the mythic spectacle of Jason and the Argonauts, and suddenly the film had a pulse.

“Is the Ark of the Covenant in here?”

That tonal pivot is the film’s secret weapon. It’s a captivating blend of adventure, horror, and comedy that somehow balances all three without collapsing under the weight of its own ambition. The pacing is relentless in the best way, jumping from chase to battle to supernatural chaos while still finding time for sharp humour. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a roller coaster that occasionally pauses just long enough for a joke before dropping you again.

“It says here…we are all going to die horribly.”

Visually, the film leans heavily on CGI, which in 1999 was still figuring itself out, yet it manages to capture the energy of old-school effects. There’s a clear attempt to channel the spirit of Ray Harryhausen, especially in the creature work and large-scale spectacle. The sand effects, the regenerating Imhotep, and the swarming scarabs might show their age in spots, but they still have a tactile, imaginative quality that keeps them engaging. The blend of practical sets, costumes, and digital work creates a world that feels lived-in rather than sterile.

This is great fantasy adventure stuff.

Then there’s the cast, which frankly, is what really holds this movie together. Brendan Fraser’s Rick O’Connell is the perfect adventure hero, equal parts rugged and self-aware, with just enough humour to keep him from becoming insufferable. It’s almost painful to imagine the alternate universe where Tom Cruise took the role and turned it into something far more intense and far less fun. Rachel Weisz is fantastic as Evelyn, giving the character intelligence, vulnerability, and just enough chaos to keep things interesting.

Rachel Weisz is a dream walking.

John Hannah’s Jonathan is comic relief done properly, never overstaying his welcome and somehow always landing the joke without feeling like a walking punchline. Then Kevin J. O’Connor shows up as Beni and decides moderation is for other people, nearly stealing the film outright. Beni is gloriously, unapologetically slimy, the sort of man who would betray his own reflection if it hesitated too long, yet O’Connor plays him with such twitchy, weaselly enthusiasm that he becomes impossible to dislike. You know he deserves whatever horrible fate is coming, but there’s still a part of you hoping he wriggles out of it. Every cowardly betrayal, every desperate, multilingual plea for mercy just makes him more entertaining, as he happily digs himself into a deeper and more ridiculous hole.

Beni, the ultimate sidekick whom you love to hate.

And then there’s Arnold Vosloo, who clearly missed the memo that everyone else was in a breezy adventure and decided to star in a full-on supernatural horror film instead. He plays Imhotep with absolute seriousness, never winking at the audience, never leaning into the absurdity, and that choice is exactly what makes the character work. While the heroes are busy trading quips and dodging danger with a grin, Vosloo moves through the film like an ancient force of nature, calm, deliberate, and genuinely menacing.

Historic Note: Turns out Hollywood played fast and loose with about…all of Egyptian history. The real Imhotep wasn’t a cursed, vengeance-fuelled priest but a brilliant architect behind Djoser’s pyramid around 2600 BC, later revered almost like a god. Meanwhile, the film mashes him together with Pharaoh Seti I (who lived roughly 1,300 years later) and Anck-su-namun, who actually belonged to King Tut’s era, because historical accuracy clearly got lost somewhere in the sandstorm.

I’d come back from the dead for Anck-su-namun.

Stephen Sommers’ The Mummy is what happens when a studio accidentally makes the exact right decision. It abandons the sombre tragedy of its predecessor and embraces spectacle, humour, and unapologetic adventure, creating something that feels both modern and nostalgically old-fashioned. The film’s ability to balance thrilling action, supernatural horror, and genuinely funny character dynamics gives it a timeless quality that many effects-heavy blockbusters still struggle to achieve. Backed by a charismatic cast, inventive visuals, and a tone that understands exactly what it wants to be, 1999’s The Mummy remains a standout example of how to revive a classic property without suffocating it under reverence.