The Asphyx (1973, Great Britain)

(Spoiler alert.) The Asphyx is not a Hammer film, but it is one of the last gasps of the classic English costume horror productions, released just as the genre (and Hammer, the godfather of the style itself) was wheezing its last gasps. A flop when it hit the movie houses, the film has nonetheless (or, perhaps, as to be expected) gained a cult reputation. Deservedly so, for though bodices remain small, remarkably little imitation blood flows and the special effects have aged badly (if they were ever any good at all), the movie keeps the viewer engrossed from frame one. In all truth, however, The Asphyx is one of those rare films that scream to be remade, for as interesting as Newbrook's movie is, the script is so annoyingly and needlessly flawed that it easy to imagine an eventual, improved production. Until then, however, this version will do well enough – as long as you don't begin to think about every second plot-driver or development in the story. If you do begin to think about what is happening, the movie begins to fall apart so quickly it makes you dizzy…
But then, this a common trait found in the few films scripted by Brian Compact (in this case, from the story supplied by Christina and Laurence Beers). Compact also supplied the script for The Fiend (1971) – one of the more interesting, sleazily disturbing exploiters by hack-man cineaste Robert Hartford-Davis – and Freddie Francis' unjustly forgotten oddity Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly (1969). As in The Asphyx, the stories (and resulting films) were interesting, but the script logic less than impressive. Director Newbrook obviously didn't let the script's flaws distract him, for he did a more than competent job at keeping the story going in what was not only his directorial debut but cinematic swansong as well. Newbrook, though long active as a producer and cinematographer (in both cases often for Hartford-Davis), his name has seemingly disappeared from the business since The Asphyx.
Aside from the faulty script, there is another huge flaw to the film which is a bit harder to look past, but luckily the movie is so enveloping that the viewer even manages to overlook it. Without a doubt, The Asphyx wins – hands down and without a sweat – The Ugly Cast Award. Seldom has there been an English gothic horror film with such an ensemble of aesthetically unappealing visages. Unlike in the Hammer productions, in which the femmes are usually of ideal appearance even if the men might be lacking, in The Asphyx there is no character that can be described as less than ugly. But then, this is a horror film, not a porno film, and everyone remains dressed so physical appearances can be ignored…
The movie opens with a brief contemporary scene in which two cops pull a body out from beneath two cars which have had a mangling head-on collision. The body moans, a cop gasps in disbelief that someone could survive the event, and…
It's 1875, and Sir Hugo Cunningham (Robert Stephens, an ex-husband of Maggie Smith who was knighted in 1995) a fine gent and socially conscious member of the upper-crust returns home with his bride-to-be Anna Wheatley (Fiona Walker). A scientifically bent believer in the supernatural and avid photographer, he spends his idle hours on the weekend photographing dead people. In no short order, a dreadful accident kills both Anna and his son Clive (Ralph Arless) as he is filming them with a movie camera of his own invention. This event, along with numerous photos taken prior to the accident, helps lead Cunningham to realize that he has discovered a way to both see and capture an individual's Asphyx, the mythical Greek spirit of the dead that comes for one's soul when dying. (His technique for capturing and caging utilizes the light from the special blue crystals he uses for his photographic work.) With the help of his foster son Giles (Robert Powell, the lead in Ken Russell's Mahler (1974)), a traitorous guinea pig is soon immortalized; its Asphyx trapped and locked-up safely in the family crypt. An attempt to immortalize a pauper with consumption (Terry Scully) results with little more than a face full of acid for Sir Hugo, but soon Sir Hugo makes himself immortal, adding his Asphyx to what he hopes is his growing collection in the family vault. While making his daughter Christina (Jane Lapotaire) immortal, however, the hungry guinea pig chews through some important wires and in the resulting turmoil Christina gets both immortalized and beheaded. Sir Hugo quickly releases the Asphyx of his divided daughter, for though immortal, she can still feel pain. Unable to live with the guilt of having helped kill Jane, Giles sabotages the attempt to make himself immortal – blowing up the lab in the process. First intent on killing himself as well, Sir Hugo then decides to spend immortality "damned to eternal guilt, damned to eternal remorse." Jump cut to the modern world, we see Sir Hugo as an ancient man (in some of the most ridiculous aging-makeup ever seen) carrying his guinea pig (who hasn't aged at all) just as he steps between two cars barreling forwards into a head-on collision…
An aged Hugo but an un-aged guinea pig? Magic crystals which never deplete no matter how long water is dripped over them? An impenetrable crypt protected by a simple padlock? A water spout that never stops dripping? A different spirit of death for every living thing in the world? A functioning motion picture device invented years before Edison's? Why use three different ways to "kill" when the first machine – the electric chair used by Sir Hugo himself – functioned so well? And, and…. whatever. Don't stop to think, just enjoy the movie. It's a lot better than The Exorcist, which came out the same year and basically signed the death warrant for this kind of Gothic horror thriller.