The Faceless Man wasn’t born faceless. He had the geographical misfortune of chillin’ on the villa of Pompeii when the famous volcano blew its load, encasing many taxpayers in searing lava juice that, once solidified, turned them into stone cold stone mummies. This made it impossible for those affected to make boom boom happen in a hygienic method.
Once such stoner was uncovered after being covered since 79 A.D by an Italian farmer. First order of business – kill people, ’cause that’s what mummies do. (Note: Mummies aren’t really good for anything else, so cut ’em some slack.)
The mummy, whose name is Quintillus Aurelius (which is hard to pronounce in any A.D.) stays frozen in time until it’s time to strangle future humans and retrieve a gold brooch or “vintage bling.” (Quick thought – how did the archaeologists figure out his name? Quinty’s wallet must sure be encased in stone as well, yes?)
Q pulls up his hot pockets and goes after Tina, medical researcher Paul Mallon’s fiancée. I can see why – she’s a hot blonde and makes him hard as rock. Heh. But Tina screams and passes out a lot, so it’s very easy for the need-for-snail-speed mummy to pick her up and walk into the ocean for a little skinny dipping.
And here’s where Curse of the Faceless Man (1958) has its best, albeit short, moment: he starts to dissolve when immersed in sea water! Granted, he looks like freshness expired pie dough over-rolled in discount flour. But dang if he doesn’t start turning to Alka-Seltzer™ when the water reaches his swimsuit area. It was either gonna be that or sink to the bottom of the ocean because hey – MADE OF STONE!
The movie moves as slow as Quintillus and the scares come in the form of realizing he’s not the Etruscan gladiator slave he once was, but reduced to nothing more than what the volcano shardded.
What few survivors left escape by row, row, rowing the rest of the way to New York, where Jason follows. Strolling the well-littered streets of 
Drinkin' & Drive-in 