Even in introducing "The Mummy's Shroud" on Turner Classic Movies, Ben Mankiewicz seemed to bemoan the repetitiveness of these mummy movies, which doesn't exactly inspire confidence in the proceedings for those, like me, who were about to watch it. But, of course, he was right. If you've seen Hammer's other mummy movies, such as the prior "The Mummy" (1959) and "The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb" (1964), or the Universal films, then you know what to expect. An expedition of archaeologists invades another cursed Ancient Egyptian tomb, and for the desecration another reanimated mummy seeks revenge upon them. As always, there's a flashback; in this case, a some-seven-minutes one beginning from hieroglyphs and with an unidentified narrator, to start the film. A fight between Ancient Egyptians in what looks like a modern office space or apartment (and it may've well been shot in one of the rooms of Bray Studios, which was a house, this being the last of Hammer's films shot there) is probably the low point of this one.
The narrator continues describing the 1920 expedition, before the film moves to characters talking, where industrialist and financier of the expedition, Preston, is organizing search committees to find the lost explorers. The lost in the harsh desert bits and Preston's transparent machinations, including his frequent posing for photographs and seeking publicity, are somewhat interesting. Preston's dysfunctional relationships with his son and wife less so. There's also a fortune teller who uses a crystal ball like a security-camera monitor to spy on the Westerners. The Mummy is also seen, via POV shots, through objects, including the crystal ball, before his attacks.
Unfortunately, beyond the professional rivalry between Preston and Sir Basil, the other characters are either stilted or rather ridiculous. At least there's no screaming-and-fainting beauty for a change, but the woman on the expedition, like the two younger men, is generally less lively than the millennia-old mummies, and she spends more time as a superstitious psychic than the linguist she purports to be--refusing to read the shroud because of curses and sharing premonitions that not all of the members of the expedition will survive (no kidding, I could've told them that). There's a very-European actor pretending to be the Egyptian Keeper of the Tomb, repeating the absurdity of these movies where a cult or family protect an Ancient Egyptian tomb for centuries. Talk about a thankless job. There's the white colonialist complaining about his troubles with insubordinate porters. And I swear the Mummy changes appearances between shots, wearing the usual wrappings one moment and a more modern-looking pajama suit of bandages the next. Worst of all, this one too often commits the cinematic sin of telling instead of showing, including the movements of Sir Basil in and out of a lunatic asylum and some of the expedition details.
The narrator continues describing the 1920 expedition, before the film moves to characters talking, where industrialist and financier of the expedition, Preston, is organizing search committees to find the lost explorers. The lost in the harsh desert bits and Preston's transparent machinations, including his frequent posing for photographs and seeking publicity, are somewhat interesting. Preston's dysfunctional relationships with his son and wife less so. There's also a fortune teller who uses a crystal ball like a security-camera monitor to spy on the Westerners. The Mummy is also seen, via POV shots, through objects, including the crystal ball, before his attacks.
Unfortunately, beyond the professional rivalry between Preston and Sir Basil, the other characters are either stilted or rather ridiculous. At least there's no screaming-and-fainting beauty for a change, but the woman on the expedition, like the two younger men, is generally less lively than the millennia-old mummies, and she spends more time as a superstitious psychic than the linguist she purports to be--refusing to read the shroud because of curses and sharing premonitions that not all of the members of the expedition will survive (no kidding, I could've told them that). There's a very-European actor pretending to be the Egyptian Keeper of the Tomb, repeating the absurdity of these movies where a cult or family protect an Ancient Egyptian tomb for centuries. Talk about a thankless job. There's the white colonialist complaining about his troubles with insubordinate porters. And I swear the Mummy changes appearances between shots, wearing the usual wrappings one moment and a more modern-looking pajama suit of bandages the next. Worst of all, this one too often commits the cinematic sin of telling instead of showing, including the movements of Sir Basil in and out of a lunatic asylum and some of the expedition details.