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Like a roller coaster ready to fly off its rails,
Van Helsing rockets to maximum velocity and never slows down. Having earned blockbuster clout with
The Mummy and
The Mummy Returns, writer-director Stephen Sommers once again plunders Universal's monster vault and pulls out all the stops for this mammoth $148-million action-adventure-horror-comedy, which opens (
sans credits) with a terrific black-and-white prologue that pays homage to the Universal horror classics that inspired it. The plot pits legendary vampire hunter Van Helsing (Hugh Jackman) against Dracula (the deliciously campy Richard Roxburgh), his deadly blood-sucking brides, and the Wolfman (Will Kemp) in a two-hour parade of outstanding special effects (980 in all) that turn Sommers' juvenile plot into a triple-overtime bonus for CGI animators. In alliance with a Transylvanian princess (Kate Beckinsale) and the Frankenstein monster (Shuler Hensley), Van Helsing must prevent Dracula from hatching his bat-winged progeny, and there's so much good-humored action that you're guaranteed to be thrilled
and exhausted by the time the 10-minute end-credits roll. It's loud, obnoxious, filled with revisionist horror folklore, and aimed at addicted gamers and eight-year-olds, but this colossal monster mash (including Mr. Hyde, just for kicks) will never,
ever bore you. A sequel is virtually guaranteed.
--Jeff Shannon
From The New Yorker
One of the year's strongest contenders for a Complete Waste of Space. The omens were far from grim; the writer and director, Stephen Sommers, proved himself capable of a certain retro cheerfulness with "The Mummy," and the star, Hugh Jackman, is by common consent the best thing in the "X-Men" franchise. Together, sadly, they have churned out a cacophonous mess, which not only aims squarely at teen-agers but itself seems painfully adolescent in its squirming refusal to decide what it wants. Thus, we get Count Dracula (Richard Roxburgh), who takes over from Dr. Frankenstein in the care and maintenance of monsters; we get a cameo from Mr. Hyde, doing a Quasimodo at the top of Notre-Dame; and we get Van Helsing himself (Jackman), who is employed by the Catholic Church to hunt down these unsociable creatures, presumably in the hope of reward in the world to come. One set piece follows howling on the heels of another, slowly draining all lifeblood from the claims of narrative logic. Of true and lingering horror there is no sign; if this is the cinema of homage, it's the kiss of death. With Kate Beckinsale as a vampire-hater of noble birth and David Wenham as a sexually active friar, plus the usual supporting cast of werewolves, underdressed throat biters, growling rustics, and so on. In English, just. -Anthony Lane
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker