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COPYRIGHT 2005 All rights reserved. Reproduced by permission of The Condé Nast Publications Inc.
It is a joke, of sorts, to take a love story of unquenchable ardor and set it in England. To set it in the England of the nineteen-fifties, however, may be stretching the joke too far. "Asylum," directed by David Mackenzie, is hellbent on returning us to an era in which a low neckline on a cocktail dress was a threat to civil society. The dress in question belongs to Stella Raphael (Natasha Richardson), who, with her husband, Max (Hugh Bonneville), and their young son, Charlie (Gus Lewis), arrives at the clanging gates of a mental asylum. Max has been appointed deputy superintendent, a post so prestigious that the Raphaels get a home of their own within the bounds of the institution. As if that weren't joyful enough, they soon meet the cadaverous Dr. Cleave (Ian McKellen), who treats the more elaborate cases, arriving late for a party and explaining under his breath, "Rather delicate moment with our new matricide." Also in his care is Edgar (Marton Csokas), who used to be a sculptor. "What did he do?" Stella asks. "Heads, I think," Max replies.
It's a wicked exchange, courtesy of the screenwriters Patrick Marber and Chrysanthy Balis, and the wickedness thickens once you learn that Edgar, unmanned by jealousy, decapitated his wife. Now he wanders the gardens of the asylum, doing odd jobs and patching up the greenhouse. I wish I could tell you that what happens next came as a blistering surprise, but...
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