There’s not much to The Pharaoh’s Curse (1957). The acting is professional, but the special effects range from mundane to just awful (I particularly liked how the real scorpion crawled past the plastic arm that was supposed to be real), the cinematography’s OK, and the sound might be a bit off.
But the real disaster is the story. Set during Britain’s colonial period, a small British patrol is sent out to retrieve some archaeologists digging for a pharaoh’s grave in Egypt, bringing with them the wife of one of the archaeologists, although we’re not sure why. The leader of the patrol, Captain Storm, is attracted to her. Whatever.
Also appearing, a mystery Egyptian lady named Sumera, who draws her strength from the desert. And the pack asses don’t like her. Really. In fact, Mabel the donkey deserts the mission. We never hear if she makes it back to camp. I miss Mabel.
Meanwhile, the archaeologists have found a coffin and are in the midst of opening it when one of the native torch-bearers collapses, leaving the mummy to its own devices while they carry the guy back to the camp.
After some mishaps, including the aforementioned scorpion’s sting of the wife, the patrol arrives and tells the archaeologists it’s time to leave. But before they can go, the torch-bearer turns into an old man and starts to attack people at random in the cave complex where the coffin is located. Various riches are found, which are inexplicably ignored by the archaeologists. Maybe it was the fact that people are starting to die, completely drained of blood.
At one point, the archaeologists do pull the arm off of their stealthy attacker, which made me laugh.
In any case, the expedition soon gives up and leaves. Sumera disappears as well.
And we don’t care. Horror movies thrive on you caring about those that meet a gruesome end, and no one here evokes sympathy, much less empathy.
Watch it for the risible special effects. And with shots of your favorite liquor available.
Or go do jumping jacks. They’ll be better for you than this waste of time.
