Opening Sarcophagus: Curse of the VHS Bin
Some horror-adventure movies sweep you away to exotic lands, unearth forgotten legends, and scare you senseless. Tale of the Mummy (also known as Talos: The Mummy or, more honestly, Russell Mulcahy’s Career Low Point) does none of these things. Instead, it proves that not every ancient curse needs to be unearthed—and that sometimes, sarcophagi are better left sealed in the Blockbuster clearance bin.
Directed by Russell Mulcahy, best known for Highlander and Razorback, the film attempts to blend gothic horror with supernatural thriller. What it delivers instead is a shriveled pulp of clichés, clumsy effects, and a plot so tangled it makes Egyptian hieroglyphics look like IKEA instructions.
The Setup: Christopher Lee, Professional Tomb Opener
We begin in 1948 Egypt, where Sir Richard Turkel (Christopher Lee, cashing a paycheck) ignores hieroglyphic warnings that scream “DO NOT ENTER” louder than a bathroom stall at a dive bar. Naturally, his team cracks open Talos’ tomb, unleashes a dusty curse cloud, and crumbles like stale cookies. Lee nobly sacrifices himself, probably hoping he wouldn’t have to film any more scenes.
Fast-forward to 1999 London, where Turkel’s granddaughter Sam (Louise Lombard) decides to continue granddad’s work. Because if history teaches us anything, it’s that ignoring deadly warnings and pressing random sarcophagus buttons is a family tradition.
Jason Scott Lee as Detective Riley: Wrong Place, Wrong Franchise
Enter Detective Riley (Jason Scott Lee), a cop investigating organ-removal murders. He’s less Indiana Jones, more bored desk sergeant. His main job is to wander through exposition, squint at mummy lore, and occasionally look confused when gauze starts strangling people.
Jason Scott Lee can be charismatic—he carried Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story. Here, he carries only the audience’s sympathy, as we all wish Talos would just put him out of his misery early.
Supporting Cast: Wasted Talents, Miscast Faces
The film actually boasts a stacked cast:
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Sean Pertwee as Bradley, an archaeologist who spends most of his time ranting about reincarnation before getting conveniently killed.
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Lysette Anthony as Dr. Claire, who betrays everyone because the script demanded a twist no one cared about.
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Michael Lerner as Professor Marcus, looking like he wandered off the set of a better film, probably to ask where craft services was.
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Honor Blackman (Pussy Galore herself) shows up briefly as a ship captain, probably wondering how her résumé led her here.
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Shelley Duvall, yes, Wendy Torrance from The Shining, appears just long enough to make audiences whisper, “Oh no, Shelley, what happened?”
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And a young Gerard Butler shows up as Burke—blinking, breathing, and dying before anyone can say, “Hey, this guy might be famous one day.”
With all this talent, the film still manages to feel like amateur night at a community theater production titled The Curse of Plot Holes.
Talos: The Least Terrifying Mummy in History
The titular mummy, Talos, is a patchwork of rubber effects, CGI that looks like it was rendered on a Nintendo 64, and endless reams of floating gauze. Yes, gauze. Instead of a towering wrapped monster, Talos often appears as strips of bandages flapping around hallways like an angry roll of Charmin.
By the climax, Talos emerges in a half-finished cocoon of gauze, evolving into a “true form” that looks like rejected concept art for a Power Rangers villain. Any fear evaporates as soon as he opens his mouth—or struts around like he’s late for a costume contest.
Plot Potholes: Archaeology by Mad Libs
The mythology here is a blender full of nonsense. Talos, we’re told, was a Greek sorcerer exiled to Egypt, who seduced a Pharaoh’s daughter, convinced followers to mutilate his corpse, and planned to be reborn when the planets aligned. If that sounds convoluted, it’s because it is.
Reincarnation is tossed in, so suddenly everyone is a Pharaoh’s follower reborn. Detective Riley, naturally, turns out to be the reincarnation of Talos’ lost love, because why not? And then—because this movie hates us—Talos tricks Riley into getting his heart ripped out, stuffs it in his own chest, and walks off disguised as Riley.
Yes. The final twist is: the mummy is Jason Scott Lee now. That’s not horror. That’s identity theft.
Murder Set-Pieces: Gauze Attacks and Organ Theft
The kills are laughable. Victims have organs yanked out by floating rags. Floating. Rags. Imagine being strangled by a haunted laundry hamper, and you get the idea. Talos collects organs like Pokémon, and the film treats each kill with all the tension of a particularly dull episode of CSI: Cairo.
When one character is killed by gauze in an elevator, it’s less scary than a fabric softener commercial. When another gets their heart ripped out, the effect is so rubbery you expect Gallagher to run onstage and smash it with a sledgehammer.
Tone: Adventure! Horror! Comedy? None of the Above.
Mulcahy tries to balance horror with action-adventure. The result is tonal whiplash. One moment, you’re supposed to feel awe at ancient curses. The next, you’re watching Jason Scott Lee awkwardly run through corridors while gauze slaps him in the face. Any atmosphere built in the prologue is quickly shredded—literally—by the floating bandages.
The editing doesn’t help. Random flashbacks to Talos’ backstory appear at the worst times, derailing momentum. The pacing drags worse than Talos’ own wrappings.
Reception: Cursed by Critics, Banished to VHS
Released in theaters in 1998, Tale of the Mummy barely made a ripple before sinking into the home video swamp. Critics panned it for incoherence, bad effects, and wasting its cast. Audiences avoided it, except for confused Highlander fans who assumed Russell Mulcahy had another trick up his sleeve. Spoiler: he didn’t.
Today, the film is remembered—if at all—as the mummy movie people confuse with The Mummy (1999). Except that film had Brendan Fraser, charm, and fun. This one has Jason Scott Lee, gauze, and sadness.
Final Entombment: Just Seal It Back Up
Tale of the Mummy wanted to be epic horror. It ended up as dollar-bin pulp. Russell Mulcahy buried his career deeper than Talos’ tomb, Jason Scott Lee proved reincarnation isn’t always desirable, and audiences learned that sometimes a curse isn’t supernatural—it’s just bad filmmaking.
Verdict: If you want a mummy story, watch The Mummy (1999). If you want existential horror, watch The Mummy’s Hand (1940). If you want gauze attacks, go raid your bathroom cabinet. Because this tale? This tale should’ve stayed untold.
