Picture this: It’s the first weekend in May and you head to your local theater to check out a highly anticipated sequel that features fantastic outfits and the reawakening of an ancient evil. In 2026, that movie is The Devil Wears Prada 2, but 25 years ago, a very different film filled that exact same slot while managing to accomplish something remarkably similar: a blockbuster movie to kick off the summer that’s completely devoid of superheroes.
It’s not that every single first May weekend between 2001 and 2026 was dominated by a Marvel character. This unofficial summer-movie-season kickoff release slot has gone to Van Helsing (2004), Kingdom of Heaven (2005), Mission: Impossible III (2006), and, more recently, The Fall Guy (2024). But these (along with two COVID-affected years) are the exceptions, and (regardless of quality) not in a good way. Financially, all of those non-superhero titles were disappointments. On the other hand, Spider-Man (2002) set an opening-weekend record that ushered in the similarly high-performing likes of Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, and various X-Men, among others. Together, this reinforced the sense that only superheroes — or, apparently, imposing fashion-mag editor Miranda Priestly and/or the mummy Imhotep — could offer true summer commencement.
That could make The Mummy Returns, directed by Stephen Sommers and released on May 4, 2001, seem like more of an anomaly than it really is. On its own, it’s far from singular. Apart from being a sequel to 1999’s The Mummy with a more-is-better ethos that’s very much of its turn-of-the-century franchise era, it operates under the heavy influence of Indiana Jones while also calling back to one of the original big-studio franchises, the Universal Monsters (of which their Mummy subseries, though far from the best of the lot, was one of the most sequelized). At minimum, it’s repeating elements of movies from the ‘90s, ‘80s, and ‘40s.
The Mummy Returns does offer some small sequel-related favors to be thankful for, namely that adventurer Rick O’Connell (Brendan Fraser) and his librarian paramour Evie (Rachel Weisz) aren’t separated offscreen in between movies and forced to rekindle their romance. Instead, the sequel takes place seven years after the original, with Rick and Evie married and now parenting their son Alex (Freddie Boath), who they tote along on archeological missions. When a cult resurrects the mummy Imhotep (Arnold Vosloo) in hopes of pitting him against the underworld-dwelling Scorpion King (Dwayne Johnson, establishing the “add The Rock to the sequel” strategy in his very first film), the family is drawn back into conflict with the undead. Both Evie and Alex are kidnapped in turn. There’s also a book of the dead, a surprisingly durable dirigible, pygmy mummies, and a bit where Rick outraces the rising sun. It makes The Mummy look practically stately by comparison.
A quarter of a century later, however, The Mummy Returns looks more like the precise serving of “a lot” that audiences could handle before tipping over into “too much” territory. Sommers has experience with the latter; recall that just three years later, he made the aforementioned Van Helsing, which essentially duplicates this approach but is not thought of nearly so fondly today (nor was it particularly well-liked in 2004). Maybe some of the difference is Brendan Fraser’s remarkable command of tone for this exact type of movie, obviously not taking himself too seriously yet treating the silly material with a baseline of matinee-idol sincerity. He and Weisz, along with the nascent presence of future superstar Johnson, show that human personality helps augment all the poorly aged digital effects (including an all-timer in the field of facial replication, for the Scorpion King’s climactic return from what must have been years inside the Amazing Digital Circus).
Whether it’s the charming people on screen, Sommers having the right carny-barker touch for an off-brand Indiana Jones, or both, The Mummy Returns feels like a particularly noisy summer starter pistol. By winning that first weekend so big 25 years ago, the movie was actually defending its territory. The idea of the first big summer-movie weekend had existed for decades, but throughout the 1990s it had gradually crept up from Memorial Day to earlier in the month, and in 1999, The Mummy brought it to the first weekend of May for the first time. Whether audiences were particularly keyed up waiting for a new Star Wars movie later in the month, the full 10 years passing since the last Indiana Jones movie left people dying for period adventure, or Frasermania just happened to be in full swing, The Mummy hit bigger than expected and set a new bar for the spectacle of that particular weekend. The series invented the first-weekend-in-May blockbuster and then surrendered it just a few years later.
Some of the superhero movies that subsequently colonized the May kickoff spot stepped back from the churning spectacle in favor of more character-driven stories. After all, that’s exactly what an origin story like Spider-Man or Iron Man has to do to get an audience emotionally involved. But it’s not that superhero movies are inherently less noisy, either. Later summer starters like The Amazing Spider-Man 2 or Avengers: Infinity War (technically shifted to a late-April release, but still designed to lay claim to that first May weekend) are hardly character-first narratives. They’re just as overstuffed as The Mummy Returns, only with a pretense of seriousness derived from their status as parts of ongoing sagas.
As much as The Mummy Returns contains elements of action, adventure, fantasy, horror, and comic relief, its true genre (and lore, for that matter) is Summer Movie. It’s a mercenary distinction, one that arguably feels more closely connected to The Mummy’s Revenge (the ride at Universal Studios) than the belated threequel The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor, which lost that Sommers overkill magic. Many (though not all!) of the Marvel movies that followed in its footsteps are better in terms of character, screenplay, and visual effects. But the summer-movie emptiness that The Mummy Returns somehow makes charming is a form of popcorn purity.
The Mummy Returns is currently streaming on HBO Max.
