Evil Dead Rise director Lee Cronin brings his trademarks of creepy kids and wild gore to Lee Cronin's The Mummy, with mixed results.

On the one hand, the gore, when it comes, is spectacular. On the other hand, it's sandwiched within an underwhelming storyline that never truly lets loose.

What's Lee Cronin's The Mummy about?

Cronin's take on a mummy story has no prior relationship to other mummy-related films, be that the 1932 Universal Monsters film, the Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz franchise (which has a fourth installment incoming), or the 2017 Tom Cruise flop.

Instead, it introduces an entirely new mummy tale focused on a bereaved family. Charlie and Larissa Cannon (Jack Reynor and Laia Costa) were once stationed in Cairo for Charlie's journalism job. While there, their daughter Katie (Emily Mitchell) went missing, kidnapped by a mysterious woman (Hayat Kamille) who lurked near their garden.

Eight years later, the Cannons have traded the deserts of Egypt for those of Albuquerque, where they live with their children Sebastián (Shylo Molina) and Maud (Billie Roy), as well as Larissa's mother Carmen (Verónica Falcón). Their grief over Katie lingers still. They keep her childhood bedroom intact, preserved in all its pink glory. They also haven't taken a vacation since her disappearance, too afraid of anything bad happening to their other children.

However, the Cannons get some miraculous news when Katie (now played by Natalie Grace) shows up alive, having been found in an ancient sarcophagus. It's evident she's undergone a heavy amount of trauma in her time away: Her skin is scratched and peeling, her limbs are contorted in a strange rictus, and she's only able to communicate through a series of clicking teeth and wheezing breaths.

Confronted with their daughter's deteriorated physical condition, Charlie and Larissa are ready to do whatever it takes to help Katie feel safe again. Perhaps that's why they're willing to overlook the several perturbing things Katie does, from cavorting through their house's crawl space to straight-up headbutting Carmen. It's textbook possession, but Charlie and Larissa's love for their daughter and relief at having her back cloud any fear they may have of her... up to a certain point. However, that point comes far too late in Lee Cronin's The Mummy's punishing 135-minute runtime, making the pair seem less like concerned parents and more like classic horror movie idiots who make every bad decision until the movie tells them not to.

Again, the bereavement does give Charlie and Larissa some excuse here. Cronin, who also wrote the film, does a solid job exploring their guilt at Katie's disappearance, as well as their efforts to establish normalcy even as a supernatural evil wreaks havoc on their house. Yet after a while, their willful ignorance becomes almost comical.

Lee Cronin's The Mummy is as frustrating as it is gory.

Despite being presented as a reimagining of The Mummy, Lee Cronin's The Mummy is frustratingly formulaic. It draws heavily on creepy child tropes, including some Exorcist-level backbends and cursing, twisting them slightly to incorporate some mummy lore. Scenes where skin sloughs off like mummy's bandages are relentlessly stomach-churning, but other than that, we've seen this bag of tricks before.

The same goes for classic beats of mummy stories, including a trip to an archaeology professor who's able to unlock most aspects of the film's central mystery. Far more fascinating is what's taking place on the ground in Egypt after Katie goes home. There, Detective Zaki (May Calamawy) revisits Katie's missing persons case, hoping to solve a mystery that she first began looking into eight years ago. Her journey leads to some genuinely tense sequences, to the point that you wish this was more of a detective thriller than an Exorcist rehash.

Lee Cronin's The Mummy's saving grace — and the reason it will likely appeal to many — is its gore, which pulls no punches. Every tear of Katie's skin or bloody gnash of her teeth is a visceral nightmare, and Grace is wonderfully unsettling as the latest creepy kid in Cronin's arsenal.

Yet all this gore rarely leads anywhere. Even after the most upsetting set pieces (one involving nail clippers comes to mind), everything resets to mild concern. A family gathering unleashes some serious nastiness involving teeth and vomit and shredded flesh, ushering in carnage that... never comes. Instead, we cut to a restrained Katie, with no idea of the broader impact of her rampage. To the person in my theater who let out a bewildered, "That's it?" after that scene, I'm right there with you.

That scene feels like a promise unfulfilled, as does the rest of the film. Lee Cronin's The Mummy ultimately doesn't feel as much like a bold new horror saga as it does a hodgepodge of better films. Maybe some horror franchises, like a cursed sarcophagus, are meant to stay buried.

Lee Cronin's The Mummy hits theaters Apr. 17.