The Asphyx (1972)

 "I've failed!"

This film was, apparently, not a success on its original release, a serious horror film not dependent on spectacle was not wanted by the public in 1972. There's a lot to like about the film though, despite its flaws.

The concept is, in theory, interesting; a Victorian gentleman scientist discovers the secret of immortality, but discovers it has a terrible price. The immortality in question comes from capturing a supernatural "asphyx" (my subtitles said "ass fix"...), a tortured soul which looks quite terrifying) via a type of oh-so-Victorian pseudo-science. I love how very steampunk it is that reality obligingly behaves just as these Victorian "scientists" expect it to.

There's a strong cast, headed by Robert Stephens, but the characterisation very much takes second place to the ideas. And it feels weird that a film like this, based on a very horror concept and which requires an atmosphere of increasing foreboding to be at its most effecive, should not be shot like a horror film at all but just like a costume drama, with no attempt made to use the camera to create unease.

The cast is impressive on paper, but Robert Powell is fairly stiff and Jane Lapotaire (more recently seen as Prince Philip's mum in The Crown) doesn't have much of a character, The whole thing looks plush and expensive, but there are embarrassing moments: when Sir Hugo films his son's death, the resulting footage looks identical to the scene on the film, right down to the close-up.

Ultimately the film, a parable about the curse of immortality, is not quite so profound nor so deep as it thinks it is, and it would have been both much more enjoyable and, frankly, better, if it had been shot more like a Hammer-style high camp horror film by someone like Freddie Francis. This isn't a bad film, but there are reasons why it remains fairly obscure.

The Crown: Season 3, Episode 5- Coup

 "I am protecting the Prime Minister. I am protecting the Constitution. I am protecting Democracy."

We have another fine episode here, again mixing excellent character stuff with thought-provoking constitutional issues. I suspect, due to the largely political subject matter, this episode won't be quite as popular as others this season, but to devote space to the supposed coup against Wilson is probably the right thing to do.

It is, of course, not necessarily a hard fact that any such coup was planned, despite decades of rumours. Sources (Hugh Cudlipp, the highly questionable Peter Wright) give some indication that Lord Mountbatten was approached, but it's not widely believed that things went any further. Dramatic licence aside, however, the events are well dramatised here, with Mountbatten's presentation to Cecil King and co on the practicalities of a coup are like something out of a Frederick Forsyth novel. Charles Dance, recast as a necessarily harder-edged Mountbatten, is outstanding as the charismatic old military leader looking for purpose in retirement. His speech to the Burma veterans, including the full recital of Kipling's "Road to Mandalay", is dripping with charisma. Mountbatten comes across as complex here, and not unsympathetic, quite an achievement,

Cecil King is odd, though. Proprietor of the Daily Mirror, friend of Hugh Cudlipp, yet fomenting a right-wing coup against a fairly standard Labour government?

Regardless, the Queen gives all this short shrift here. If she did, in reality, do this, she deserves much praise for doing the most important job of a modern constitutional monarch in defending democracy, for being Juan Carlos in 1981 rather than Vittorio Emmanuele in 1922. Interestingly, this episode contrasts this by showing the Queen spending weeks on end travelling to pursue her horse racing hobby, at the expense of her job. One can hardly begrudge her a holiday, however; Trump and his golf this ain't. And there's a superbly written moment between her and old friend Porchey as she discusses how she would have much preferred the life of a racing horse owner to that of a monarch. These few weeks are a poignant glimpse into the life she could have had, if her Uncle David hadn't forced her, and her reluctant monarch, into the life she now leads.

We end on a note of hope, as the duly chastened Mountbatten reconnects with his sister Princess Alice, reminding us of the complexities of the family trees of the royal houses of Europe. "We Battenbergs have no country" says the old and relaxed Alice to her patriotic brother, both scions of a universal monarchical class floating over the various nations of Europe which at some point borrowed some German princeling to be their king.

We alo have a nice scene with Elizabeth and Philip at the end. The personal stuff, the characterisation, is always perfectly written and performed, and seems to mesh seamlessly with the more phiosophical stuff. This is bloody good telly.

The Crown: Season 3, Episode 4- Bubbikins

 "Bubbikins...?"

 This is, again, a cleverly constructed episode, dealing with two seemingly separate- and thematically contrasting- threads, and drawing them together very neatly at the end. It's also the episode where Princess Anne appears for the first time as a more-or-less adult, and where I perhaps begin to warm a little to Tobias Menzies as Prince Philip. He's no Matt Smith though.

On the one hand, Prince Philip is whingeing about real terms cuts to the Civil List. He, husband to the richest woman in the world, may be forced to sell a palace or two or even give up polo. This is contrasted with his mother, Princess Alice, a humble nun in Athens, casually selling her priceless jewellery so she can continue her charity work. These themes interwtwine throughout. Philip tries to savage his public relations faux pas with a documentary on the royals so we can see how they're good value for money, and it goes so badly that the Queen orders it buried after a single broadcast. Meanwhile, the fascist coup of the colonels in Greece exiles Princess Alice to London... and Philip just avoids his mother, as an embarrassment and, worse, a mother who abandoned him.

The threads are drawn together where it is the publicity from Princess Alice, and her hard life of suffering and service, that gives the royals some positive publicity- and leads Philip finally to reconnect with his mother before it is too late.

Most importantly, perhaps, we are shown that Philip's mother didn't abandon him out of callousness, but of genuine and serious mental health issues, for which she suffered barbaric tortures and, just as bad, Freudian psychiatry. Mental health is an issue that can affect us all, eincluding royalty.

This doesn't, of course, stand comparison with its exceptional predecessor, but shows nevertheless the high watermark of this series. Good stuff.