ASYLUM

Short forms have always been most successful in evoking horror, as our ancestors well knew, spinning terror tales in the dawn of our species and, later, with the coming of written literature. Encasing stories in 'frame" collections, wherein individual short tales were lent structural unity and thematic resonance by a central, leading plot that tied the disparate elements together, Chaucer related his Cantebury Tales and Buccachio his Decameron. Infamous (and influential) EC Comics did as much on a smaller scale, employing as their 'frame' not so much a surrounding concept as 'characters' that supplied continuity: the Crypt Keeper, the Old Witch, the Vault Keeper each introduced EC's frightening fables, lending a sense of unity to the perverse proceedings. Anthologies were no stranger to the horror genre in either literature or cinema, but the earliest to encase separate stories amidst a framework was Dead Of Night, which also happens to also be one of the best. It wasn't until several years later, during the heyday of Hammer Studios, that Amicus, their most successful competitor, began to specialize in the form.

Established in the late 1950's by Max Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky to produce educational films, Amicus focused on horror from the mid-1960s onwards. They rivaled Hammer as a production unit for several years, sharing stars, crew, and directors. The poorer cousins of Hammer, their product was always enjoyable but often lacked the viscera and style of Hammer. Focusing on a more modern atmosphere, Amicus delighted in sensationalism of an enjoyably campy sort, often falling into the camp of shlock. Fear is featured as often as fright, and no where is this more apparent than in their 'portmanteau' movies. From Tales From The Crypt to The Vault Of Terror, these fear feasts approached horrific themes and characters in a modern yet playful manner, separating them from the gothic mannerisms of Hammer, and the by then increasingly brutal horrors portrayed in America and across Europe -- small wonder, considering their comic book source.

American writer Robert Bloch penned many of these scripts, celebrating monsters and madmen with his trademark wit, irony, and dark humor. Asylum, produced in 1972, was scripted by Bloch from his own short stories, and his playful yet deadly approach to characters facing nightmares of consciousness and the supernatural are enjoyable, frightening, and, yes, silly. They often mock the very instincts they seek to exploit. Whether the self-referential humor and unsurprising 'surprise' endings please or agitate will depend on your own willingness to have fun with the anxieties that disturb you.

Available in the past from Image, and a dependable seller as a washed-out, improperly framed VHS release, Asylum is finding the attention its deserves. The plot, featuring a handful of horrific, irony-laced nightmares from Bloch (culled from pre-Psycho magazine and anthology sales ), is chillingly clever. Ripe with similar elegance (if occasionally forced plot contrivances) as The House That Bled To Death, the story centers around the arrival of young, eager psychiatrist Dr Martin (Robert Powell) at 'ye old insane asylum' to begin his new job. Expecting to meet one Dr Starr, he's instead accosted by wheelchair-bound Dr Rutherford (hypnotic-eyed Patrick Magee), who claims to have been attacked by one of the inmates.

Disconcerted, Dr Martin is told that his employer has became one of the patients! Rutherford makes an agreement with the young psychiatrist: if he can decide which of the patients is Dr. Starr after interviewing the four inmates, he gets the job. Already an air of foreboding is established by the catchy dialogue, unexpected plot-twist (which Bloch excelled in -- sometimes overmuch) and a tension-filled atmosphere. This last element only increases as Roy Ward Baker, the underrated director, infuses chills with dead-on humor. The meat of the film lies within the first person narration of each inmate's life and crime, itself both a device for drawing together the inmates into a supernaturally charged environment of terror and as a prelude to an impressively down-beat ending which, unlike many of Amicus' offerings, feels truthful in its abeyance to earlier plot-points.

Greeted by leering orderly Max Reynolds (Geoffrey Bayldon), who ushers him through the rooms, Martin first meets Bonnie (Barbara Parkins), ex-mistress to Walter (Richard Todd), who axed up his wife (Sylvia Syms). This first entry is a satisfying if unoriginal story of vengeance. A student of the occult, the wife's body parts spring to life. The sight of her frozen digits moving about is both harrowing and hilarious. The second entry, "The Weird Tailor," features charismatic Peter Cushing as a mysterious stranger who asks a harassed tailor to sew him together a magical suit, careful not to stray from the demonic directions of an occult tome. Bruno (said tailor), unaware that the suit is intended to bring the man's dead son back to life, finds doom not fortune in this modern folktale. The third portion introduces us to Barbara (Charlotte Rampling), a schizophrenic whose 'friend' embarks on a murder spree. This tale of split personality and repressed sexuality is characteristic of Bloch's fascination with insanity. The last (and best) story features the extraordinary Herbert Lom as Byron, a doctor laboring under the delusion that he's capable of animating dolls by the power of his mind, transferring his energy into their shells to command their deadly actions . . . except it isn't a delusion

Presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, the feature is represented by lovely, vibrant colors. The picture is sharp without any noticeable grain or scratching. Audio is also well represented in Dolby Digital 2.0 mono, which is clear and concise. Featuring a Hi-Def widescreen print, 16X9 enhanced, from the original 35mm negative, this is the best Asylum has ever looked!

Extras is where this package brings something new to the table, offering us a tour of the production, including thoughtful and intimate commentary by director Roy Ward Baker (& cameraman Neil Binney), the former of which is delightful and personable, revealing the dedication and skill of the man. This insightful addition to frightfilm trivia is followed by theatrical trailers for And Now The Screaming Starts, Asylum, and The Beast Must Die, all of which were produced by Amicus. Also on board is a still gallery and informative Bios for Roy Ward Baker, Peter Cushing, Herbert Lom, Britt Ekland, Milton Subotsky & Max J. Rosenberg. Whew! Liner notes follow, and last but certainly not least is an additional treat -- "Inside the Fear Factory," a generous featurette exploring the life and times of the studio that fear built! A dark gift for horror fans this summer!

Review by William P Simmons