The Mummy (Alex Kurtzman, USA, 2017)

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I don’t remember Tom Cruise being as badly miscast as he is in The Mummy. He’s meant to be cool, suave, nonchalant, catnip to the ladies and slightly unethical with it: a cross between Paul Newman and Errol Flynn. Instead, well…. he’s Tom Cruise: focussed, intense, over-committed, unwavering, humourless. He’s a very good actor and I like him. But he lacks a light touch. At least he’s better than Russell Crowe who I didn’t realise was in it and might as well not have been. He fails doubly, as Dr. Jekyll AND as Mr. Hyde, and he recites his lines in the worst English accent I’ve ever heard in a recent film playing both parts. The only actors who walk away with any honour from this disaster are Jake Johnson, best known from New Girl, who is actually funny and charming as the sidekick; and Sofia Boutella as Ahmaned, the evil Egyptian queen who starts the narrative rolling and who looks terrifically terrifying. I also hated the look of the film, a return to that dingy and dull slate greys, dark blues and metallic chromes that has so unnecessarily blighted cinema since the turn to digital. How Alex Kurtzman got the gig to direct this film is a story I’d like to hear. He won’t be getting another opportunity soon.

 

José Arroyo

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