This post contains spoilers for The Mummy.

In The Mummy, Sofia Boutella’s long-undead character fails twice at the same mission: infecting a “chosen” mortal with the god of death’s spirit, so that she can have an immortal life partner. It’s. . . perhaps not the most relatable struggle to most of us mere mortals, but it stands to reason that the folks at Universal can identify with her. The film, which debuted at No. 2 over the weekend with a mere $32.2 million haul, marks the studio’s second disappointing stab at launching its Dark Universe—a collection of films drawing on the studio’s original horror franchise, Universal Monsters. (Think those black-and-white classics about Dracula, Frankenstein’s monster, and the Wolf Man.) Whispers have already begun about what this might mean for the seemingly cursed would-be cinematic universe, but it also inspires another question: why is Universal having such a hard time succeeding at a form it helped create?

Universal Monsters was an early pioneer when it came to shared cinematic universes. 1931 saw the releases of both Dracula and Frankenstein, giving Universal a dominant position when it came to studio horror. After that, the studio started pumping out films centered on classic villains—including the Mummy, the Invisible Man, and the Wolf Man. In 1943, after a spate of sequels, the Wolf Man’s followup film came with a twist: Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man made history as the first studio crossover film. Later, 1944’s House of Frankenstein brought together the Wolf Man, Dracula, and Frankenstein’s monster, a sort of horror-tinged Avengers.

This was not a “cinematic universe” in the same way we use the term today: the worlds created by Marvel and its rivals are far more intricately plotted and self-serious than Universal Monsters ever was. (We’re guessing the modern equivalents of Abbott and Costello would never be given the chance to meet Iron Man.) Still, the studio played a pivotal role in movie history by inventing this conceit—which makes the contemporary Universal’s fumbling Dark Universe so disheartening.

In 2014, Dracula Untold was supposed to be Universal’s inaugural stab at launching a cinematic universe—but it flopped. 2017’s The Mummy was the studio’s second attempt, and came with a big marketing push that included announcing a star-studded line-up for future films. (One of those characters, Russell Crowe’s Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, is also featured in The Mummy.) Now the prognosis is not looking great for this universe’s future so far. Why is Universal struggling so hard?

The problem appears to be twofold: first, audiences—at least domestically—have demonstrated minimal interest in the franchise so far; and second, The Mummy is overly busy and derivative. With every quippy Tom Cruise one-liner and nod toward the interconnected future to come—hello, lingering shot of a monster skull—The Mummy shows its hand, and its strain. The best entries in cinematic universes are the ones that defy norms and stand as refreshing experiences in their own right. Wonder Woman, for example, is a story of female power—told by a female director—at a time when that narrative is desperately needed. Guardians of the Galaxy was a fun-filled summer outing that came just as Marvel fatigue started setting in due to too many monotonous entries. The Mummy, on the other hand, is a film that seems less interested in forging its own identity than it was in cobbling together various elements that have proven successful in other movies.