Hypnotic regression to past lives was all the rage in horror films of the late '50s, the subject the basis for The She-Creature (1956), The Undead (1957), I Was A Teenage Werewolf (1957), and this Mexican mummy movie from '58, which sees scientist Eduardo Almada (Ramón Gay) regressing Flor Sepúlveda (Rosita Arenas) to her previous life as Aztec maiden Xochi. Destined to be sacrificed to the god Tezcatlipoca, Xochi must remain devout and virginal, so when she is found to have a lover, Popoca, she is put to death and Popoca is buried alive, a curse placed on their tomb.
I'm not a big fan of mummy films -- I find them rather slow and dull -- and The Aztec Mummy hasn't changed my opinion: if anything, it's even more tedious than most. The film's biggest problem is the pacing: it's over an hour into the film before we even see the mummy, and what precedes it isn't very interesting, with several scenes going on and on and on. The hypnotic regression of Flor sees Eduardo counting backwards slowly to zero and then back up to twenty, which is far from scintillating; a sacrificial ceremony with bad dancing to even worse music doesn't know when to end; and there's way too much aimless wandering around temple ruins.
When the mummy finally makes an appearance, it's a very disappointing monster. As if aware of how dull most mummy movies are, the writers include a lame subplot about a criminal mastermind called The Bat (wearing a luchador mask, 'cos Mexicans love their wrestling) who needs the mummy's breastplate and armband in order to locate some hidden Aztec treasure; if anything, this pointless padding only makes the film more difficult to endure.
I'm not a big fan of mummy films -- I find them rather slow and dull -- and The Aztec Mummy hasn't changed my opinion: if anything, it's even more tedious than most. The film's biggest problem is the pacing: it's over an hour into the film before we even see the mummy, and what precedes it isn't very interesting, with several scenes going on and on and on. The hypnotic regression of Flor sees Eduardo counting backwards slowly to zero and then back up to twenty, which is far from scintillating; a sacrificial ceremony with bad dancing to even worse music doesn't know when to end; and there's way too much aimless wandering around temple ruins.
When the mummy finally makes an appearance, it's a very disappointing monster. As if aware of how dull most mummy movies are, the writers include a lame subplot about a criminal mastermind called The Bat (wearing a luchador mask, 'cos Mexicans love their wrestling) who needs the mummy's breastplate and armband in order to locate some hidden Aztec treasure; if anything, this pointless padding only makes the film more difficult to endure.