As a little girl named Alice tells us a very nice story about rain, we see a couple doing something that’s probably not a very good idea. Getting drunk on a roller coaster. Oh, how I pity all those behind and below. While a song by Sixpence None the Staind Pumpkins plays in the background, Alice tells us that they have a wonderful marriage, but that Nora is keeping something from Jim, so they are in fact strangers. Oh great, two minutes into the movie and we get commentary on the philosophy of married life by a twelve-year-old. This has Art written all over it. Yes, Art with a capital A. It’s the worst kind. The kind where the Artist thinks they know some ingenious secret of the universe that the rest of us plebes aren’t privy to, so of course they must share their grand vision with us to better the human community. Look at this, I’m even starting to sound like one of them just from the CREDIT SEQUENCE! This is not good. Not good at all.

Well, Nora and Jim manage to stumble their spiffricated asses back to the apartment building before Nora collapses on the stairs and cracks her head. They call in a doctor, who tells them to cancel their plans to travel to Ireland, but they refuse. He also tells them to quit drinking. Care to take any bets as to whether this is going to happen or not?

They buzz over to the Land of Ire, and what’s the first thing they do? Go to a pub and get some Guinness, of course. They also run into Joe, an old flame of Nora’s. He’s an ex-boxer, but Jim in his drunken idiocy decides to pick a fight to stake his claim on Nora. Joe throws his ass out of the pub, and they move on to Grandma’s house. On the way there, Nora hallucinates a flock of birds dive bombing the car (We can’t stop here, this is sparrow country!), and runs off the road. Alice comes to rescue them, and they leave the smoking hulk of their rental car in the ditch as they go to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of boring.

Once at the house, they are greeted by blind Uncle Bill. Now, I love Walken as much as any halfway sane movie buff, but he should not do accents. His voice is so cool on its own, that any alteration to it just sounds like shit. He does not make a convincing Irishman, ‘nuff said. During dinner, Jim manages to sneak in some drinks and get plastered. Nora sends him to bed, and she and Bill go off to the basement for some good old fashioned family lovin’. Well, okay, so that doesn’t happen either. Bill shows her a 1000-year-old mummy he dragged out of the bog and blathers for a bit about how the Druids could mummify a body without all that messy Egyptian contrivance by sinking them in the bog. Seems the mummy was a druid witch whose power had kept her alive for 200 years before she fell in love and let her magic fall by the wayside. Her man got her pregnant and left her, and so she killed him and then herself.

Upstairs, Alice brings coffee to Grandma, who is kept sedated in bed so she doesn‘t wander off and destroy the house in her senility. When she hears that Nora is in the house, she knocks Alice down and takes her keys, cracks Jim over the head with a coffee pot, and runs off. And when I say run I mean run. Grandma strolls down the hallway doing about mach 12 until Bill finds her, scolds her, and sends her back to bed. For a woman who’s supposed to have lost her mind to old age, she’s quite spry.

At this point, Nora, Jim, and little Jimmy (ugh, no, I didn’t mean it like that, little Jimmy is their son. He just hasn’t done anything to warrant a mention so far) retire to their less-than-inviting bedroom. Discovering a lump in the mattress, they move the covers and find a pile of filth (put that filth in a cradle where it belongs, young man!), including a big-ass druid knife and a fossilized potato with a face carved in it. The potato thing for whatever reason reminds me of a fertility symbol placed in the bed for good luck, though I’d personally have a hard time making the sign of the 12-month hibernating squirrel with Mr. Potatohead’s face buried in my ass cheeks. Cue freaky rollin’ around family groping time montage.

In the basement, the mummy awakens and saws Uncle Bill’s head off with a scalpel. Great, Walken down with an hour left of this molasses-drenched stink log of a movie. Nora gets a severe case of the dry heaves because the mummy looks like her and apparently they’re connected somehow. She and Jim get in a big fight and she tells him that she’s had an abortion behind his back because he’s too absorbed in his drinking to care about his family. So what does he do? Proves her right and knocks back a big ol’ bottle of whisky. That’s right, drink up, Conan O’Leary. Your family hates you anyway. Come to think of it, so do I. Right along with the rest of the cast and crew (Walken company excepted) of this goddamned AAAAGH, DO SOMETHING YOU STUPID BORING MOVIE!

Mummy Nora finds Jim a-drinkin’ and starts makin’ out with him. Apparently he’s drunk AND impotent, because Mummy Nora’s looking quite yummy here, but he can barely flop his flaccid tongue (among other things) into her mouth. When Alice sees them necking on the couch, Jim clams up and gives the mummy a cigarette to calm her. She starts her kerosene-soaked sleeve on fire with it and flees into the night. When Jim goes after her, he runs into Joe, who ex-boxers his ass and knocks him out.

Grandma sonic-booms into the basement to discover the empty slab and headless Bill (goodnight, Moon). Joe comes in and finds the real Nora in the liquor department, so they have a drink together. Jim finds Mummy Nora and they come back inside only to find Nora and Joe playing tonsil rugby. When Jim has a problem with this, as any man would, Nora brains him with her shot glass and goes back to the warm and inviting recesses of Joe’s whisky hole. She starts to crush his wrist, presumably due to the close quarters with her 1000-year-old counterpart, and Joe knocks her to the floor. The mummy then attacks Joe, but two guys dressed in Diabolik spy gear and claiming to be gardeners blow her brains out and rescue him. Alice bursts in with Grandma and explains that the mummy is undead and can’t be killed with conventional weapons, much like Keith Richards. Grandma is also such a witch, but she’s so damn old that senility has claimed most of her spells, aside from 1d20 Run Faster Than A Goat On Fire and 1d8 Make Little Girl Light Your Smokes. The Druid Mummy Nora is a shape shifter with all sorts of mind control tricks and STOP MAKING UP DRUID MYTHOLOGY AS YOU GO ALONG YOU RETARDED MOVIE! The Druids weren’t shapeshifters, and they weren’t Highlanders so they weren’t immortal, and they couldn’t do Jedi Mind Tricks! Before this, the movie was just boring. Now that it’s tried to explain itself, it’s also STUPID.

The mummy obeys the classic Rob Zombie Sample Command to get up and kill, and punctures Joe with a crazy stop-motion flying record shard attack. Gardener Diabolik #1 gets nailed as well, and Gardener Diabolik #2 shoots the mummy’s knees out and escapes with the rest of the crew into the kitchen. They set up a trap for the mummy that Gardener Diabolik #2 got the idea for while watching an old movie about an evil carrot from outer space in an arctic research station, but it doesn’t work too well. The mummy falls through the floor and takes little Jimmy with her. We’re ten minutes from the end, and the annoying red-headed step-Kenny finally has a fucking purpose. Thanks again, movie.

Grandma magically becomes lucid again and tells Nora that she was trying to keep her away with all the crazy visions she kept getting. You couldn’t have just written a letter that said "Bill found an ancient evil mummy, it wants your soul, don’t bother coming by, we’ll mail the Christmas presents?" They find the mummy and Jim tempts her away from Jimmy with what else? A bottle of liquor. I knew that debilitating alcoholism would come in handy eventually. She IS Irish after all. 1000 years submerged in a bog, first thing she’s going to want besides a good lay is a stiff gallon of whisky. Oh come on, we’re almost done and I’ve avoided making fun of Irish people drinking for this long during a movie set in Ireland with Irish alcoholics as the central theme. I think I’ve done pretty damn good all things considered.

Jim Mike Finks the witch with the bottle, but she grabs Jimmy and escapes to the beach, where she’s confronted by Nora. And presto! She’s now the witch we’ve seen in all the flashbacks. Nora slices her throat with that knife they found in their mattress, and the witch dies. Uh…yeah. The witch dies. Apparently the Druids also practiced the art of turning oneself into a human voodoo doll. Why the hell not, they made up all the other stuff the Druids supposedly did in this movie. Then Nora and Jim fall back in love and are instantly rehabilitated of their alcoholism because the bad witch is no longer in her soul because they were somehow connected by her mother but I was too busy being in a bored fucking stupor to pay close enough attention to what it was although I’m sure it had something to do with Grandma but who fucking cares because this worthless stupid boring movie is over and we don’t have to watch it anymore! The Eternal Kiss of My Ass.

I really wish I had something more intelligent to say about this stupid movie, but the only thing I can muster is a frustrated AAAAAAAARRGH!