The Amicus Collection

The Amicus Horror Collection proves that English manors host chilling secrets among the decadence, that everyone drives on the passenger side, and that mystery -- the unknown terror -- perfectly accents horror to haunt the audience well. The following three mystery-horror DVDs are examples of some fine genre work that was once done across the pond. Dig one final introductory remark: these movies prove that nothing complements a good scare like a great score. Douglas Gamley is a master of punctuating vision with original sound and his stand-out work is perhaps the best thing about this fine set of re-mastered DVDs.

Asylum is a singular character study, like a Citizen Kane of B-film English horror with "Who is Dr. Starr?" functioning as the movie's motivating "What is Rosebud?" However, Asylum's ending is better than Kane's. The film's washed-out colours look good mastered in HD from 35mm vault materials. Most striking about the film is its great, Floyd-ian score by Douglas Gamley. Call this film Lovecraft with vibes. Four unfortunate souls variously descend into madness overtop some suitably eerie and original tunes.

Director Roy Ward Baker's superb effort focuses on four folks whose names start with the letter B, making this a true B-film. Bonnie, a mistress, and her doleful man conspire to murder, but neglect to account for his wife's protective serpent charm (a gift from her spirt guide). Their blunder improbably results in a classic re-animated-limbs-vs.-woman-with-a-hatchet scene that rivals Evil Dead in the bizarre department.

Bruno is a weird tailor, who loses his marbles after taking an order from one morbidly drawn and distinguished Peter Cushing. "I happen to believe in astrology," Cushing's customer forewarns as he seeks a fantastic, technicolor, reconstituting suitcoat for his dead son. Meanwhile, the pill-popping, green-eyed cackler Barbara conspires to murder with her friend Lucy, played by the ravishing Britt Ekland (special note: the genius low angle camera set-ups highlight Ms. Ekland's otherworldly cheekbones, the film's most spectacular feature). Finally, Hebert Lom owns as Dr. Byron, a hobbyist with a strange tendency to breathe consciousness into his dolls. His tale simultaneously engages and grosses out.

The next film in the set, 1973's The Beast Must Die, is a lot of fun. Director Paul Annett presents a chilling tale of the wolfman (or "weir-wolf," as pronounced in voiceover) and a stylish hunter who dreams of chasing and hunting this most dangerous game. Tom the resourceful hunter is played by Calvin Lockhart, who chews all kinds of scenery with feverish relish. The movie asks, at what cost does a man possessed satisfy his bloodlust dream?

The Beast Must Die must be the first movie to feature a Werewolf Break™, a timely 30-second intermission specifically to surmise who is the werewolf. We also get car chases, helicopter shoot-outs, a mental Douglas Gamley score -- mid-tempo groovy jazz orchestra with hot '73 funk bass -- and the ever-suave Peter Cushing playing the Germanic Dr. Lundgren, loup garoux expert.

All the actors are excellent. Who wouldn't have fun with lines like "it's like living in a shooting gallery" or "one of my guests is certainly lying... but which one?" Best line of all: "And since you've completely succeeded in wrecking dinner, I think I'll have a stiff drink!" The Beast Must Die is not for everyone, but genre fans will have lots of fun-with-conventions fare to digest and there are features galore to savour (director commentary, trailers, a Peter Cushing tribute, and a featurette called "Directing the Beast").

And Now The Screaming Starts! It certainly does. Two female leads -- the quite beautiful Stephanie Beacham and Sally Harrison -- each have ample opportunity to let loose some lung-busting, piercing screams in Roy Ward Baker's disturbed period piece. Two newlyweds experience a nightmarish honeymoon at hubby's haunted ancestral manor, circa 1795. The movie holds important lessons for young couples in open disclosure when it comes to family curses.

Poor Catherine (Beacham, aka Dylan's mom in 90210). Her unwitting and rather dopey husband Charles just can't accept that he's been cuckolded by a vengeful phantom. The demon child is further protected by all manner of phantasm, including a creepy-crawling severed hand! An especially gaunt Peter Cushing plays Dr. Pope, a London witch doctor who dresses like a hippy puritan summoned to the bottom of the mystery. Also notable is Patrick Magee's smooth 1795 physician. However, it's Herbert Lom's Sir Henry Fengriffen that unmistakably strikes movie villain paydirt. An openly debauched landowner comes to "view the bride" of this simple woodsman. Paranormal tragedy ensues.

Baker shoots, but it's Gamley who scores. This film features another successful score, weaving stormy crescendoes into dreamy ambient vibes. The motif on Sir Henry's portrait is priceless comic juxtaposition. Like any Rosemary's Baby-type plot, films about sexual relations with demons can highlight certain body issue themes, but I think the louder theme here is "believe your loved ones when they try to confide in you... could save a lot of anguish down the road."

And that wraps up the Amicus Collection marathon. A wonderful time was had, just in time for Halloween. Each film could have seemed completely preposterous and silly, but the music and dedicated filmmaking helps overcome generic limitations and makes these films truly unique romps through grey English settings. I learned that Douglas Gamley's the man and that prim, charming Peter Cushing (Grand Moff Tarkin from Star Wars) is not just a superstar of classic horror flicks, but also the epitome of Ray Bradbury's Moundshroud from "The Halloween Tree," a book released in 1972. Could Bradbury have had Cushing in mind? Was he an Amicus fan? -- Ken Stuebing