Maybe it’s just me, but coming-of-age tales get a bad rap.
Sure, we all love the idea of watching some character (hopefully one that’s charming or at least not a total jerk) learn some lesson about the world and thus come into themselves in full. At the same time, nothing about that process is ever assured, and there’s often no stakes or even teeth to this person’s adventure into maturity.
In the case of the fourth and final issue of Universal Monsters: The Mummy, this coming-of-age has all that depth and more.
Courtesy of Image Comics/Skybound.
Previously on The Mummy: After years of a fairly loving relationship as “young girl and her disembodied voice,” Helen found herself betrayed by Ankh-Es-En-Amun. The former princess did her BFF dirty all for Imhotep, who spent a couple thousand years or so jockeying his own dead body just to be reunited with his former love. Truly, it’s a tale as old as time, folks.
Without revealing too much, though, writer-artist Faith Erin Hicks (alongside colorist Lee Loughridge and letterer Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou) quickly set the stage for the big confrontation between Imhotep and the duo of Helan and Anke-Es-En-Amun. And it’s every bit as endearing and charming as you’d hope for this Disney-esque, YA-adjacent bit o’horror. The two girls come together and not only save the day, but learn some big vital lessons about personal agency, feminism, and how tiny men keep them down through their own selfish, feckless desires/ideas.
That’s pretty much what I wanted the whole time: This feel-good blast of empowerment that delivers on the true promise of coming-of-age tales by giving the two women something real to experience and grapple with accordingly. Life lessons that feel properly earned, thematically significant, and that show us the core of this book without ever over-explaining a single thing.
Courtesy of Image Comics/Skybound.
At the same time, there’s plenty of that grit/edge I talked about earlier. The Helen/Anke-Es-En-Amun team are only successful in that there’s that minor betrayal beforehand — it’s the tension that not only pushes them into action, but it shows them that the world is not some romantic, extra magical place (and instead often sucks and can be hella ugly).
That dynamic is then further reinforced by some of the more solidly horror art as compared to The Mummy‘s previous three issues. That includes some great Mummy transformations by Imhotep, where the sheer detail of his rotten corpse reminds you of the pristine veneer hiding the true rot of the world. There’s also a sweet Raiders reference (kinda?) that doesn’t just stoke my need for intense body horror, but it also extends a larger theme about facing the gross reality of the world and the catharsis/growth that can follow.
Having this “surge” of horror just as the book reaches its moral-emotional heights is among The Mummy‘s finest achievements so far, which is saying something considering the otherwise robust build-up. (It’s also worth noting, based on the preview pages in this review, that this issue also has other great moments that balance the experience with a certain, The Nightmare Before Christmas-esque joy/whimsy.) This extra horror not only connects The Mummy to the larger Universal tradition and aesthetics, but it reminds us that there’s heaps of room to tell different kinds of stories while connecting to said storytelling “core.”
Courtesy of Image Comics/Skybound.
All of that goes a long way to validating the mission of The Mummy to tell a story that feels like it honors aspects of the original movie/story while also doing something completely novel and inventive. Sure, the story itself and themes aren’t exactly groundbreaking, but who says they have to be?
I didn’t have especially huge expectations coming into The Mummy, and that’s not a bad thing whatsoever. I maybe wanted gross corpses and heaps of Egyptian lore, but other than that I wasn’t sure what they could do that was all that new. Not only that, but as the inventive-but-slightly underwhelming Creature from the Black Lagoon showed us, pushing boundaries ain’t always so easy.
But The Mummy knew itself from word one, put in the work to develop its core relationships and dynamics, and got just dark and intense enough to give us a story about female friendship with some true weight. Was the whole story of The Mummy perfect? No, especially as I’d wish Frank got a little more time as Helen’s love interest. (By the finale, he mostly feels like a really convenient supporting character.)
Courtesy of Image Comics/Skybound.
But then maybe this was never Frank and Helen’s story (even as they likely end up together). Instead, it belonged to the Helens of the world — those people (but mostly young girls) who don’t belong, don’t know how to find their place and their people, and are trying to connect however possible. The Mummy is a solid guide to truly owning your life, uplifting others wherever possible, and leaning into what makes you different as an affirmation of your humanity.
Is that a little bit cheesy? Like a brick of gouda, baby, but isn’t that what we need more of these days? These stories that shows us the worst parts of the world, and rather than deny them somehow, allows us to overcome the pain/ineptitude/etc. and flourish as people.
When I think of coming-of-age tales more recently (i.e., after reading The Mummy), that’s what I want more of — stories that let us grow because of the world and not in spite of it. Ultimately, The Mummy bobbed and weaved between ideas and aesthetics to give us horror with heart (or, depending on how you want to look at it, a spooky Disney flick circa 1998).
Either way, this is a truly solid addition to the larger Universal line, and we’d all be better, more thoughtful people for spending a little personal time with The Mummy.
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