The Mummy

Peter Cushing - John Banning
Christopher Lee - Kharis, the Mummy
Yvonne Furneaux - Isobel Banning/Princess Anaka
Eddie Byrne - Inspector Mulrooney
Felix Aylmer - Stephen Banning
Raymond Huntley - Joseph Whemple
George Pastell - Mehemet Bey, Priest of Karnack
Michael Ripper - Poacher
George Woodbridge - Police Constable Blake

The Mummy is much more than a straight remake of the classic Boris Karloff version of 1932, this film in fact bears more of a resemblance to Universal's 1940 sequel The Mummy's Hand, in which a mummy is revived to kill off the members of an archaeological expedition. The script was also influenced by the celebrated 1923 Tutankhamun expedition led by Lord Caenarvon and Howard Carter, which ended with Caenarvon's own mysterious death.

In the Hammer film, written by Jimmy Sangster and again photographed in TechniColour, Peter Cushing plays John Banning, the leader of an expedition that discovers the long lost tomb of Queen Ananka. Thanks to a broken leg, Banning is prevented from seeing inside the tomb himself, leaving it to his father Stephen (Felix Aylmer) to unearth the various artefacts. However, by reading aloud the words on an ancient scroll Banning’s father unwittingly revives Ananka's protector, the high priest Kharis (Christopher Lee), who was buried alive with his beloved queen 4000 years earlier for attempting to bring her back to life with the very same scroll.

Driven to insanity by the sight of the Mummy, Banning senior is left a quivering wreck, leaving it to a modern day high priest, Mehemet (George Pastell), to steal the scroll and vow to destroy the desecrators. Thus the scene is set for the Mummy to be secretly transported back to England by Mehemet in order to murder all those connected with the expedition. One of Hammer's most visual productions, the film contains many impressive moments, including the revivification of Kharis in the dusty tomb, and his later emergence from a quagmire, where the crate in which he was being transported has sunk, thanks to the inefficiency of two frightened removal men. Called forth by Mehemet, who again reads the scroll, Kharis lumbers forth from the mud and slime, ready to do the priest's bidding!

A series of set pieces follow in which the Mummy carries out his murderous tasks, which include breaking into the mental home where Stephen Banning has now been placed. Naturally, when Banning tries to alert the doctors that a marauding mummy is on its way to kill him, they pay him no heed, leaving the path clear for Kharis to smash his way into Banning's fortified room and strangle him single-handedly. The flashback sequence - which shows how Kharis came to be buried alive with his queen - also has its visual delights thanks to Bernard Robinson's plush sets, complete with all manner of Egyptian artefacts, while the cutting out of Kharis's tongue in an elaborate ceremony provides the film with its only moment of true Hammer-style gore (the scene as shot was originally so strong it was trimmed by the censor).

The attack against John Banning in the quiet of his library - with Kharis crashing through the French windows - is also a highlight. Banning fights off the apparently indestructible intruder with all manner of weapons, including a shot gun and a spear (which he plunges right through the mummy), only to have it stopped by a call from his wife Isobel (Yvonne Furneaux) who, somewhat conveniently, just happens to look like Queen Ananka! With Isobel now in his arms, Kharis heads back to the quagmire to find eternal peace with his beloved queen, only to have her rescued at the last possible moment, leaving Kharis alone to sink into the murky depths, taking the life-giving scroll with him.

As Banning, Cushing gives a customarily solid performance, though it is Lee's speechless turn as the Mummy that steals the film, for despite being bandaged from head to foot (care of make-up man Roy Ashton), he nevertheless manages to relay the pain and anguish of Kharis through mime and the power of his eyes. Also of note is George Pastell's performance as the dignified Mehemet, while the rest of the cast is rounded out satisfactorily with Michael Ripper, Harold Goodwin and Raymond Huntley.

The film's production values are also top notch (the budget was around £100,000), with cameraman Jack Asher doing possibly his best work (the use of colour in the swamp sequences is quite breath-taking), while Terence Fisher's direction is brisk and to the point (the film runs a pacy eighty-eight minutes). Frank Reizenstein's excellent music, with its sepulchral choral work, also adds immeasurably to the film's ultimate impact, the result being one of Hammer's most impressive productions.