Tag Archives: John Gilling

The Mummy’s Shroud (1967) or livewithfilm revels in Hammer’s bandaged nightmare…

29 Sep

From the studio that dripped blood come the bandages to mop it up. Following the far more Hollywood inflected The Mummy (1959), Hammer’s second foray into Egyptian mythology remains a thrillingly gruesome and enjoyable slasher-romp. Never as diabolically dark as The Devil Rides Out (1968) and relatively restrained in comparison with the head-lopping frenzy of Frankenstein Created Woman (1967), John Gilling’s The Mummy’s Shroud finds its own niche to furrow. With an ensemble cast waiting in the wings for their inevitable bandage fuelled demise, ingenious deaths and splatters of gore remain the order of the day in 1920s Egypt.

Discovering the lost tomb of an Egyptian prince, an archaeological team led by the esteemed Sir Basil Walden (André Morell) return the cadaver to a museum in nearby city Mezzera. Reuniting the bandaged royal with his ever-loyal – yet long dead – servant Prem, the group unwittingly awaken a long forgotten curse. Roused by the calls of a soothsayer, Prem’s bandaged form enacts vengeance upon those who disturbed his master. With moneyed bore Stanley Preston (John Philips) fearing for his life, it falls to quick witted Paul Preston (David Buck) and psychic Claire de Sangre (Maggie Kimberly) to confront the walking fiend.

Transitioning from a relatively measured opening into a corpse-rich second act, The Mummy’s Shroud uses this dichotomy to shock and surprise. Perhaps as a result of its early twentieth century setting, the film’s preliminary archaeological scenes recall a prim and proper vision of adventure: more Five Go Wild in the Desert than the debauchery many have come to expect from Hammer. Yet once Prem the mummy begins to enact his bloody curse, the film kicks into an entirely different gear. Using the vital build up to establish characters and themes, The Mummy’s Shroud contrasts control with brutality, heightening the wanton violence of its second half. Deaths become increasingly creative and drive the film to a wild climax, with individuals being hurled from windows and melted beneath acid.

Slowly culled by this wild streak, the ensemble cast shine. While Philips’ villain remains so hammy that boos and hisses would not be amiss as he tears across the screen, Michael Ripper’s performance as long-suffering butler Longbarrow utterly steals the show. Simpering and withered, Ripper similarly juxtaposes against the film’s powerful feminine influences. With Catherine Lacy contributing her own drool to clairvoyant Haiti and heroine Claire de Sangre holding power over the film’s finale, women are given an unprecedented level of authority in this Hammer production. Truly unsettling and shocking, The Mummy’s Shroud builds on the mummy theme to the great glee of all concerned