Review: Asylum (1972)
Directed by: Roy Ward Baker
Starring: Peter Cushing, Britt Ekland, Robert Powell
Written by: Robert Bloch
Music by: Douglas Gamley
Country: United Kingdom
Available on: Blu-ray (Severin)
IMDb
I'll come right out and say that British horror is generally not my thing, because a lot of it leans gothic, and that’s a subgenre that adheres a little too close to its conventions for my tastes. And nothing embodies gothic British horror more than Hammer Films. And who was Hammer’s most direct competition in the ‘60s and ‘70s, going so far as to share many of the same actors and creative talents? Amicus Productions, the folks behind Asylum. Because of this dynamic, I wrongly assumed that Amicus was also making stuffy horror set in castles wreathed in fog about various creatures of the night from classic literature. I’m glad I got over my misguided preconceptions about them because Asylum was right up my alley. It’s an astonishingly consistent anthology, a breed well-known for its unevenness. The overall level of quality is assured by the use of one director, Roy Ward Baker (Quatermass and the Pit, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires), and one writer, Robert Bloch (Psycho), who based the screenplay primarily on his own short stories. All of the segments are contemporary and, though three of the four are supernatural, there are no vampires or werewolves to be found. Amicus co-founder Milton Subotsky’s love for William Gaines’ EC Comics shines through in morality tales that are mostly an excuse for a morbid twist. Though this means the anthology isn’t particularly “deep,” it’s immensely entertaining and memorable, and there’s a persistently terse, foreboding atmosphere throughout that’s helped tremendously by a stellar cast featuring Peter Cushing, Charlotte Rampling, Britt Ekland, Patrick Magee, and Herbert Lom. Asylum isn’t an effects-heavy film (Amicus budgets were way too lean and mean to allow for that type of extravagance), but there are more than a few creepy-as-hell moments, such as a decapitated head bundled in butcher paper that’s still alive, as evidenced by the inhaling and exhaling of its brown wrapping, and a doll/toy straight from the uncanny valley that’s stuffed with proportionally tiny human innards. Asylum also belongs to the elite club of anthologies whose wraparound is good and actually works to tie the segments together in some kind of way. The score, which primarily relies on library music (though it’s credited to Douglas Gamley), weilds its excessive bombast well, though that’s not usually the soundscape I prefer in my horror. There’s really a lot to love here for fans of horror anthologies, so please don’t be as stupid as I was by ignoring this for years.
Overall rating: 8.5 out of 10
