Asylum (1972)

"Never turn your back on a patient..."

I've seen a far few Amicus portmanteau horrors by now; I know the score: three or so flashback segments, each a suitably camp little horror story before the framing sequence becomes a story in its own right, with a twist at the end.

This film fits the template exactly and, while there are better examples among the other Amicus anthologies I've seen, this film doesn't disappoint in following the template to perfection while giving us some enjoyably camp body horror and some gleefully insentitive attitudes to mental heath, the camera lingering early on over some lurid old James Gilray cartoons set in a Georgian asylum.

The first sequence, starring a delightfully gruff Richard Todd, is splendidly bonkers, with body parts wrapped up in parcels attacking an adulterous couple in order to exact revenge. The whole concept starts out serious and sinister but soon dissolves superbly into farce in the best way possible.

The second story is a bizarre tale involving a tailor, Jewish stereotypes, and a great deal of fairytale logic. This one is genuinely creepy and arguably the best tale of the lot, with the dark fairytale quality and the presence of Peter Cushing elevating it somewhat, although it is of course as camp as a row of tents.

The third sequence, with Britt Ekland and Charlotte Rampling, perhaps drags a little and is slightly lacking in camp, although Rampling's evil laugh is a thing of magnificence. But the fourth sequence, with its little murdering doll, is just pure weirdness, but you have to admire the decision to actually proceed with something so stark raving bonkers. This is where the framing sequence comes into its own, with a strong performance from Robert Powell and a superb one from Geoffrey Bayldon.

Not every sequence is brilliant. But the whole film is enormous fun throughout.