When Universal announced a new Mummy film, most audiences braced themselves for another action-adventure romp in the vein of the beloved Brendan Fraser trilogy — or worse, a repeat of the disastrous 2017 Tom Cruise-led attempt at launching a Dark Universe. What director Lee Cronin delivers instead is something far more unsettling, intimate, and genuinely horrifying.
Cronin, who proved his horror credentials with Evil Dead Rise, brings that same grounded, family-in-peril sensibility to one of cinema's oldest monster legends. The Mummy (2026) is not an action film. It is not an adventure film. It is a pure, unflinching supernatural horror experience — and that distinction makes all the difference.
The film opens in Cairo, Egypt, where Charlie Cannon (Jack Reynor), a television journalist, and his wife Larissa (Laia Costa) are living with their young daughter, Katie (Natalie Grace). In an opening sequence that sets the terrifying tone for everything that follows, Katie is kidnapped by a mysterious woman and vanishes without a trace into a violent sandstorm.
Eight years later, the Cannons have relocated to Albuquerque, New Mexico — still haunted by their loss, their marriage strained, their lives shadowed by grief. Then comes the call that changes everything: Katie has been found.
She is discovered under extraordinary and deeply disturbing circumstances — bound in ritualistic cloth wrappings, locked inside a 3,000-year-old Egyptian sarcophagus. When she is returned to her family, she is catatonic, physically deteriorated beyond reason, and completely unrecognisable. But as the days pass and she begins to recover, her behaviour grows increasingly erratic, terrifying, and inhuman — turning what should have been a joyful reunion into a waking nightmare.
Meanwhile, back in Egypt, a lone detective continues to investigate the circumstances of Katie's original abduction — and what she uncovers suggests something ancient, powerful, and utterly merciless has followed this family home.
The ensemble cast is one of the film's strongest assets. Here's a look at the key players:
| Actor | Character |
|---|---|
| Jack Reynor | Charlie Cannon — the grieving journalist father |
| Laia Costa | Larissa — Katie's mother, the emotional anchor |
| Natalie Grace | Katie — the daughter returned from the ancient world |
| May Calamawy | Dalia Zaki — the Egyptian detective investigating the case |
| Verónica Falcón | Carmen — a mysterious supporting figure |
| Lily Sullivan | Cameo appearance (Evil Dead Rise fans, take note!) |
Jack Reynor delivers one of his most emotionally raw performances to date. His portrayal of a father torn between desperate love and creeping terror is the beating heart of this film. Laia Costa matches his intensity, and together they create a genuinely believable couple fractured by loss. Natalie Grace as the returned Katie is the film's most disturbing element — her performance is subtle, unsettling, and deeply effective.
Lee Cronin makes it immediately clear that this is his film, not Universal's franchise machine. He strips away the bombastic action set-pieces and mythological world-building that defined previous Mummy films and focuses instead on something far more primal: the horror of losing a child, and the horror of getting her back.
Where The Mummy truly excels is in its grotesque, inventive practical effects and makeup work. Cronin applies the same visceral body-horror sensibility he brought to Evil Dead Rise, and the results are genuinely stomach-turning in the best possible way. The film earns its horror credentials scene by scene, relying on physical transformation, deterioration, and presence rather than cheap jump scares or CGI spectacle.
The film's visual palette shifts brilliantly between the sun-bleached expanses of Cairo and the cold, clinical suburban interiors of New Mexico — creating a constant sense of displacement and dread. The camera work is patient and deliberate, allowing tension to build organically rather than rushing through its scares.
Despite being a relatively modestly budgeted horror film, The Mummy (2026) made a solid commercial impact in its opening weekend. Here's a breakdown of the known box office figures:
The film debuted at #3 at the domestic US box office, trailing only The Super Mario Galaxy Movie and Project Hail Mary. Considering its $22 million production budget, a $13 million domestic opening weekend is a profitable and encouraging start — especially for a slow-burn horror film that targets a more specific audience than traditional summer blockbusters.
International figures are still rolling in, but early signs suggest the film will comfortably recoup its budget and turn a healthy profit — paving the way for a potential sequel or expanded story from Lee Cronin within this reimagined Mummy universe.
The Mummy (2026) is a bold, brave, and often brilliant reimagining of a familiar monster. Lee Cronin refuses to play it safe, and the result is a horror film that is anchored in genuine human emotion while delivering some of the most physically disturbing imagery seen in a mainstream Hollywood release in years.
It is not a perfect film. The runtime tests your patience, the second half loses some of its forward momentum, and the CGI occasionally breaks the spell created by the otherwise extraordinary practical effects. But these are forgivable flaws in the context of what Cronin is attempting — and largely achieving.
If you are a fan of slow-burn supernatural horror, body horror, or family-driven genre films, this is essential viewing in 2026. If you came looking for adventure, action, and pyramids — you will need to look elsewhere.
