As part of
Universal Studios’ Second Wave of horror film resurgence during WWII, all of
their franchises were taken down, dusted off and re-activated. Eight years
after its inception, The Mummy was
prised out of its sarcophagus and sent out in fresh bandages to terrorise
audiences in The Mummy’s Hand (1940).
A creditable job was made of it, retaining the key elements of the original’s
exotic chills and the co-opting of a fascinating mysterious mythology.
The chosen director
was Christy Cabanne, a hired gun who could shoot fast as it were. Like William ‘One
take’ Beaudine he was extremely prolific and would work with whomever he was
assigned in any genre. (Both men would also direct Bela Lugosi – Cabanne on
1947’s The Scared to Death). Ever
mindful of the bottom line, Universal would value his speedy delivery of their
latest revival scripted by Griffin Jay and Maxwell Shane.
The cast for
The Mummy’s Hand is one of its chief strengths.
We open by establishing the back-story of the villain in the capable form of
George Zucco. He had a very profitable war-time film career especially in
horror, starting out with the 1939 remakes of The Cat and the Canary and The
Hunchback of Notre Dame. Here he is the steely-eyed Andoheb, pledged to
defend the resting place of Princess Ananka within Egypt’s Temple of Karnak,
but not before its High Priest (Eduardo Cianelli) recounts to him the story of
the more powerful protector he must facilitate. Kharis was the Princess’s
forbidden lover who was buried alive for attempting to resurrect her from
death. His character is essentially Boris Karloff’s Imhotep from The Mummy, with the added detail that
the vital revivifying Tana leaves he tried to use were buried with him. (Footage
from The Mummy was intercut with new
sequences here). I suspect I’m not alone in always finding these ancient flashback
scenes gave frissons of guilty pleasure somehow with their grisly ceremony of
cutting out the victim’s tongue to spare the Gods his unholy curses and the
slaying of the slaves who witnessed the events.
Before he dies, the High Priest
describes the crucial ritual of administering three brewed Tana leaves to
Kharis to keep him alive, increasing to nine if the Temple is in danger of
defilement by the unworthy, releasing “an uncontrollable demon who will kill –
and kill!” Andohep accepts his duty with chilling resolve and after a nice nod
to 1931’s Dracula, referring to the wolves as “Children of
the night”, the High Priest passes the mantle to him and checks out.
The leading
man up next is Dick Foran in the first of two successive sequels (like Zucco) as
archaeologist Steve Banning – although strictly speaking the term sequel is
misleading as this film effectively begins the franchise anew. Foran parlays
his relaxed 6’ 2” frame from cowboy pictures well into a modern day horror action-man,
beginning the tale as a fired archaeologist formerly with the Museum of
Manhattan. He is accompanied by his rough diamond sidekick Babe, played with
colourful swagger by Wallace Ford whom we last saw in Freaks (see my review of 22/2/2016). Steve buys a damaged pot whose
hieroglyphics indicate the location of the fabled Temple of Karnak. For
veracity he is led by the esteemed Dr Petrie (Chares Trowbridge) to none other
than Zucco again, now known as Professor Andoheb, who dismisses the jar and
visitors with precise menace. Steve is unfazed at this and is determined to
somehow finance an expedition based on the evidence.
Fortunately
the God of Finance smiles on Banning, crossing his path with touring magician the
Great Solvani. This is a fitting superlative for marvellous Cecil Kellaway,
last seen in plump avuncular form in 1940’s other Universal icon reactivator The Invisible Man Returns, as well as The House of Green Gables (see my
reviews of both). He offers to fund the expedition, much to the chagrin of his
smarter daughter Marta played by the lovely Peggy Moran who is warned by
Andoheb that Steve and Babe are impostors.
The trip
goes ahead and sure enough the team find the Hill of the Seven Jackals wherein
lies no sign of the Princess’s tomb but instead the sarcophagus of Kharis. Although we know his origin, the
expeditioners do not, but soon will to their trespassing cost. Once again
Andoheb appears like a dark-eyed, brooding raven and brings a chill wind of
foreboding as he invites Dr Petrie to feel Kharis’s hand. The Doctor is
astounded by the lifelike pulse – “Like living tissue!” Nine leaves of Tana tea
later and he’s feeling that supernatural heat fatally around his neck. Andoheb exults at Kharis’s restoration with
stone-cold fervour: “Not one of you who try to enter the tomb of Ananka will
leave this valley alive…”
The Mummy
himself is an excellent reworking of Karloff’s creation inhabited by Tom Tyler,
former amateur weightlifting champion and future 1941 series Captain Marvel who was cast for a
similar enough likeness to his predecessor. Universal’s resident make-up master
Jack Pierce swathes him in a convincing bandaged form that accentuates his sharp
facial features. The face is rendered more unsettling still by post-production
blotting out his eyes into totally black pools, a simple yet disturbing effect (though
mis-applied in wide shots). He moves with an awkward, inexorable shuffle, crippled
in his left leg and right arm. A plot structural weakness is that we have to
wait too long to see him - the third act in fact - however Kharis make his
presence felt by murdering Ali, the teams’ guide and carrying off Marta.
The climactic
face-off pitching Tomb Raider against protector takes place in the money shot
of the production, the Temple of Karnak that houses Princess Ananka’s tomb. It
is a striking set by art director Jack Otterson and set designer Russell A
Gausman with a fine centrepiece of the aformentioned multi-headed Jackal
fronted by a stone altar. There Andoheb aims to inject Marta with the Tana
serum so the two of them will forever serve as guardians: “You’re beautiful, so
beautiful. I’m going to make you immortal”. This job opportunity is rejected on
her behalf by Babe shooting Andoheb, who appears to expire outside at the
bottom of the temple steps. “Mighty Isis, forgive me…” he gasps. Meanwhile
Steve grapples manfully with Kharis and manages to stop him drinking a world-dominating
dose of Tana fluid by immolating him in the flames of the burner.
The epilogue
describes Princess Ananka’s stolen jewels being shipped to the Museum of
Manhattan. This suggests grounds for retribution, though 1942’s direct sequel The Mummy’s Tomb would ignore those ransacked
grounds and fashion a follow-up set decades later, reuniting some of the cast and
boosting the line-up with Lon Chaney Jr. The franchise was now off and
shambling for at least the near future…
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