Mummies

There is a specific kind of cognitive dissonance that occurs when you realize a movie about ancient Egyptian royalty features a chariot racer who is terrified of speed and a princess who just wants to be a pop star. This isn't the brooding, sand-swept tragedy of 1930s Boris Karloff or the swashbuckling creature feature of the Stephen Sommers era. Instead, Mummies (2023) arrives as a brightly colored, surprisingly nimble piece of Spanish-led animation that feels like a throwback to the mid-2000s "fish-out-of-water" comedies, albeit with a significantly better coat of digital paint.

I actually watched this on a Tuesday afternoon while attempting to fold a fitted sheet—an activity that, much like the plot of this movie, involves a lot of confusing wrapping and eventually giving up on logic in favor of just getting the job done. To my surprise, the film was more engaging than my laundry. While the major American studios were busy recycling sequels, this $12 million production from Juan Jesús García Galocha (a veteran of the Tad, the Lost Explorer series) managed to rake in over $50 million globally by being exactly what it promised: a breezy, 88-minute adventure that doesn't demand you possess a PhD in Egyptology or a subscription to a dozen interconnected cinematic universes.

A Journey Beyond the Sarcophagus

The story kicks off in a hidden underground city of the dead, where mummies live in a sort of eternal, suburban bliss, presumably free from the anxieties of the housing market. Our lead, Thut (voiced with charismatic anxiety by Óscar Barberán), is a retired chariot racer who is forced by imperial decree to marry Princess Nefer (Ana Esther Alborg). To seal the deal, he’s entrusted with an ancient Royal Ring, which—thanks to a series of slapstick mishaps—ends up in the hands of Lord Carnaby (Luis Pérez Reina), an unscrupulous archaeologist from the surface world.

What follows is a classic adventure structure: the journey from the familiar to the alien. When Thut, Nefer, and their tag-alongs—Sekhem (Jaume Solà) and a pet crocodile who behaves suspiciously like a golden retriever—venture into modern-day London, the film finds its groove. The wonder isn't just in the magic; it’s in the mummies' reaction to double-decker buses and the terrifying concept of "London fashion." It captures that essential adventure-movie "sense of discovery" by flipping the perspective, making our world the exotic, dangerous landscape that needs to be explored.

Contemporary Craft on a Budget

In an era where Pixar and Disney budgets regularly balloon past the $200 million mark, what Mummies achieves with $12 million is nothing short of a technical miracle. The character designs are clean and expressive, and the lighting in the underground city has a warm, inviting glow that makes you want to spend time there. However, it’s clear where the shortcuts were taken. While the world-building is imaginative, the animation occasionally lacks the "weight" and physics-defying fluidity of its big-budget peers.

The film also grapples with the "Streaming Era" identity crisis. Released by Warner Bros. during a period of massive corporate reshuffling, it felt like a ghost in the American market—dumped into select theaters with minimal fanfare while it thrived in Europe and South America. It’s a shame, because it represents a middle-ground cinema that we’re losing: the standalone, mid-budget family adventure that doesn't need to set up a sequel or sell a specific line of action figures to justify its existence. It’s just... a movie. And in 2023, that felt like a radical concept.

The Weirdness of the Modern MacGuffin

Not everything in the tomb is golden. The film leans into some contemporary tropes that feel a bit forced, particularly the musical numbers. I’ll be honest: the musical numbers feel like they were written by a sentient AI trying to win Eurovision. They aren't bad, per se, but they feel like they belong to a different movie—one trying a little too hard to be "hip" for the TikTok generation.

That said, the camaraderie between the central trio carries the film through its thinner moments. Thut’s character arc—moving from a coward paralyzed by a past trauma to a hero willing to risk it all—is standard fare, but Barberán brings a genuine sincerity to the role. The villain, Lord Carnaby, is a delightfully campy throwback to the mustache-twirling antagonists of the 90s, providing just enough peril to keep the stakes feeling real without traumatizing the younger viewers.

Despite its box office success abroad, Mummies has largely slipped into the "hidden gem" category in English-speaking territories. It’s a casualty of a crowded marketplace and a distribution strategy that favored more established IPs. Yet, there’s a charm here that is missing from many of the more polished, corporate-mandated blockbusters. It feels like a labor of love from a Spanish animation team trying to prove they can play in the big leagues, and for the most part, they hit a home run.

If you’re looking for a deep dive into the ethics of archaeology or a historically accurate depiction of the New Kingdom, you are in the wrong tomb. But if you want a vibrant, funny, and surprisingly heartfelt adventure that respects its audience's time, Mummies is a trip worth taking. It’s the kind of film that reminds me why I love the "Five-Minute Test"—it’s fast, it’s fun, and it doesn't overstay its welcome. It might not be a masterpiece of the ages, but as a piece of contemporary global animation, it’s a refreshing alternative to the usual suspects.