As I wrote in my review of the 1999 production of The Mummy, on November 4, 1922, an expedition sponsored by Lord Carnarvon and led by Howard Carter discovered Tutankhamen’s tomb. Found among the treasures that would dazzle the world was a tablet that reads, "Death shall come on swift wings to him who disturbs the peace of the pharaoh." And death did indeed come in unexpected ways to some of the discoverers, prompting speculation about a mummy's curse. This curse, this historical-oddity-grown-to- legend, inspired Universal Studios, basking in its success with a growing stable of horror films, to look beyond its Frankenstein, Dracula, and Wolfman characters to devise yet another horror franchise. The Mummy, with Boris Karloff in the title role, premiered in 1932.

Set in 1921, an archeological expedition unearths the mummy of Im- ho-tep (Boris Karloff). He was an Egyptian priest executed for the sacrilege of trying to bring his beloved princess Ancksenemen back to life by reading a spell from the sacred scroll of Toth. He was wrapped as a mummy, the scroll placed in his sarcophagus, and buried alive. With Im-ho-tep propped up in his open sarcophagus, one of the archeologists reads an ancient spell aloud, unknowingly bringing the mummy back to life. And as Im-ho-tep takes the scroll and moves stiffly away, the archeologist goes quite mad over the sight of a walking dead, thousands of years old.

Ten years later Im- ho-tep still looks quite old, but considerably better. Gone are the wrappings; the only visual clues to his age are extremely wrinkled skin and an odd economy of movement. He now calls himself Ardath Bey, and he unexpectedly appears at another dig. He offers to lead the archeological team, which includes Frank Whemple (David Manners), the son of the leader of the first expedition, to the undisturbed tomb of Princess Ancksenemen. They are delighted to make such a find; but, Im- ho-tep simply wants to gain access to the body of his lost love so he can bring her back to life. But it’s not quite that simple.

It seems that through reincarnation the soul of Ancksenemen is now within the body of a lovely Egyptian woman named Helen Grosvenor (Zita Johann). And by no strange coincidence, Whemple and she are in love. The artifacts from the archeological dig had been transported back to Cairo, and it’s there that Im-ho-tep casts his spells on the hapless young woman. He must lure her into a room with the mummified remains of Ancksenemen; it’s there that he’ll perform a ritual sacrifice while chanting the spell that will transfer the soul back into the princess and bring her to life. It’s up to Whemple and the scholarly Dr. Muller (Edward Van Sloan) to save her.

Observant fans of Universal classic horror will detect parallels between this storyline and that found in Dracula. In both an undead seeks to satisfy his longings through the death of a modern woman. In both he uses his supernatural powers to manipulate the mortals. In both, a hero and a scholar fight to save the woman and destroy evil. And in both, the woman is drawn to the undead who would orchestrate her doom. The pulp material is elevated by the performances of the fine cast, the cinematography of Charles J. Stumar, and the direction of Karl Freund. This is clearly the best of Universal’s classic Mummy franchise, one that spawned four sequels.

The Video: How Does The Disc Look?

The film’s theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1 is presented in a full screen transfer that’s surprisingly good considering the age of the feature. The presentation is nicely detailed and has natural grain that adds to the illusion of film. Stock footage is easy to differentiate from the feature’s footage. Subtle halos are occasionally visible, but for the most part they are subdued and never intrude. The video dynamic range is quite good, with little crush, but do expect limitations from the nearly seventy year old film. Color, of course, is not an issue for this black and white production. The limitations of the filmmaking technology of the day are quite visible, like the camera shake when it cranes up and over the heads of Helen Grosvenor and Im-ho-tep during a scene in which he displays her past in a pool of water covered with dense vapor.

The Audio: How Does the Disc Sound?

The flaws inherent in audio technology that’s over a half century old are all too audible in the Dolby monaural track. There is no top end, nor is there any extreme bass. Distortion is obvious, particularly in the underscore. Sound effects are messy and compressed. But the all-important dialog is completely intelligible throughout.

Optional subtitles are in English SDH, Spanish, and French.

The Supplements: What Goodies Are There?

Universal has been far more generous with this release than they were with the September 1999 release. Arguably the most valuable supplement is a certificate that allows you to go online to obtain a free ticket to the new mummy film: The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor.
Moving on to the feature film-specific extras, we begin with a commentary by film historian Paul M. Jensen. Alas, not only does he narrate the plot, but he narrates the actors’ actions and the actions of the director. I found his commentary a frustrating experience, lost patience after a few chapters, and moved on.

The second commentary is by make-up artist Rick Baker, writer, director, and Universal Pictures researcher Scott Essman, screenwriter and film historian Steve Haberman, noted horror collector Bob Burns, and horror sculptor Brent Armstrong. This a much more satisfying track, with lots of trivia about the cast, make-up, the make-up artist Jack Pierce, production values, tales about the producers and director… Many connections are made among all the classic Universal horror films. This is a conversation among knowledgeable enthusiasts who are delighted to share.

Next is the Mummy Dearest: A Horror Tradition documentary (30:11, full screen), hosted by film historian and Universal maven Rudy Behlmer. As you might expect, there are many excerpts from the film, which are linked to both historical factoids, like the discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamen, and the popularity of Boris Karloff. The origins of the screenplay are traced. Once again, make-up and the obsessive creativity of Jack Pierce are praised. The principal players are each highlighted with biographical details and trivia that reveal interesting personal factoids, some fascinating and some rather bizarre. Also interesting are deleted scenes - stills actually - of the heroine’s reincarnations. And what would a Mummy documentary be without a discussion of its four Mummy sequels?

Next is Posters & Stills (9:45), a collection of still photos and lobby cards that are presented as a dynamic montage, automatically sequencing as the film’s music is heard in the background.

The Trailer Gallery offers The Mummy, The Mummy’s Hand, The Mummy’s Tomb, The Mummy’s Ghost, and The Mummy’s Curse.

Moving on to disc two, we find the He who Made the Monsters: The Life and Art of Jack Pierce featurette (25:00, 1.78:1, anamorphic video). Pierce was as significant a contributor to the classic Universal horror films as Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, and Lon Chaney, Jr. The featurette traces Pierce’s creations from one film to another, highlighting primitive yet effective techniques. This is a love letter to the craftsman from contemporary make-up artists; the man was an inspiration for those who followed him. Alas, his life did not end well; discarded by Universal, having been made obsolete by technology, he died nearly penniless.

Next is the Unraveling the Legacy of The Mummy featurette (8:08, strangely in non-anamorphic widescreen). This is somewhat duplicative, but it does bring us full-circle to the 1999 modern retelling and its sequels with Brendan Fraser. This essentially transforms this short into a promotion for the current generation of Mummy flicks.

The last documentary is called Universal Horror (1:35:00, full screen); it’s narrated by noted filmmaker and actor Kenneth Branagh. We meet Forrest Ackerman, an almost pathological collector of horror and science fiction memorabilia. He explains what these films meant to him and acts as a surrogate for all fans. Authors, actors (some quite surprising), and descendents of actors and filmmakers with a connection to Universal classic horror films contribute. Branagh guides us through the classic actors in the Universal stable and through the classic films. He also informs us about the history of the studio. This is a wonderful, richly detailed documentary.

The 85-minute film is organized into eighteen chapters.