It’s Christmas Eve, 1899, and promising Oxford graduate Edward Newgate (Jim Sturgess) has arrived at the gates of Stonehearst Asylum to begin his residency under Superintendent Silas Lamb (Ben Kingsley), who has been experimenting with a highly unorthodox method for treating the mentally ill. Newgate is taken aback by Lamb’s techniques, but his concerns are pushed aside when he begins to fall for Eliza Graves (Kate Beckinsale), a noblewoman diagnosed with hysteria whose daily therapy seems to consist entirely of long hours spent at the piano.
Newgate’s fascination with Eliza leads him to some very poor decisions – namely, refusing to leave Stonehearst Asylum and return with help once he discovers that Lamb and his medical team are actually inmates who have recently seized control of the facility from its true administrator (Michael Caine), who has been sequestered in the basement of the facility along with his few remaining staff members. Despite numerous opportunities to flee, Newgate continues to function in his capacity as Lamb’s assistant, unwilling to make a break for it unless he can convince Eliza to come along.
Lamb, to his credit, knows that Newgate is intelligent enough to suspect that something is amiss, yet passes up several opportunities to remove the good doctor from the equation – much to the chagrin of his chief enforcer, the suitably named Mickey Finn (David Thewlis, the only truly frightening figure in the entire film). Lamb and Newgate fancy themselves engaged in some sort of mental chess match, with each hoping to maneuver and manipulate the other. Newgate thinks he can reason with Lamb and convince him to release Dr. Salt and his staff, while Lamb believes that Newgate will eventually begin to understand his grand vision – of course, it doesn’t hurt that Lamb is keeping Eliza under his thumb, either.
Unfortunately, Stonehearst Asylum isn’t nearly smart enough to be the sort of engaging, cerebral thriller it aspires to become, nor is it scary enough to offer any genuine thrills and chills. Instead, the film shambles from scene to scene, its tone ranging from mildly spooky to downright absurd. Director Brad Anderson, whose 2001 film Session 9 remains one of my all-time favorite ghost stories, seems to be completely disconnected both from the material and his cast. From wooden, stilted delivery of poorly written and needlessly expository dialogue, to Kingsley’s near-constant scenery chewing rendering him more amusing than menacing, there’s hardly anyone who seems to realize they’re all acting in the same film. It’s a pity, too, because the opening is certainly intriguing enough, and the pieces of a much better finished product are evident, but the lack of focus derails this one long before those pieces can be assembled.