House Of The Whipcord

In a time where laws were seemingly flaunted revolutionary British director Pete Walker had an answer to the question “What’s the world coming too?” His 1974 movie House Of The Whipcord, which is not I must add anywhere near as seedy as it sounds, finds young women who skate through their crimes with a slap on the wrists and a fine imprisoned in a country dwelling ran by the sinister Mrs. Wakeham.

 

Of all Pete Walker’s offerings House Of The Whipcord has to be the most tongue in cheek, with its main character, the vicious Mrs. Wakeham played by Barbara Markham being based on Mary Whitehouse, a notorious British character who wanted everything offensive to her to be put out of sight. Nothing was sacred from Whitehouse, whom being a normal mother took offence at Britain’s declining standards, or at least that was how she viewed it. The effect Whitehouse had on censorship in the UK is a story far too extreme to tell here, but Walkers puppet master approach to Mrs. Wakeham views is obvious and most striking, because rather like Whitehouse, Wakeham is naive, stupid, and misguided.

 

The set up of the movie is a nice idea, and centres around four characters Wakeham, Bates played by Dorothy Gordon, Walker played by Pete Walker regular Sheila Keith; and finally Justice Bailey (Patrick Barr) an aging, senile man who believes he is serving the public.  Chiefly steered by Wakeham, this quartet carry out extreme ranges of corporal punishment and imprisonment on young women who poke two fingers up at the British legal system. A keen reader Wakeham seeks out cases in the papers of women who get away with what she sees as blue murder, arranging for them to find themselves at her custom built prison.

 

As a second element of humour Walkers tool to get inmates to the prison comes in the form of a supposedly suave and debonair man by the name of Mark E. Desade (get it? No? Same the name allowed) played by Robert Tayman, not that I go eyeing up other men but if this guy has anything at all going for him then I have been elevated to stud status by this movie, needless to say however Desade is obviously successful with his captives in order to keep a pretty full prison for Wakeham.

 

House Of The Whipcord is in the same vein as other Pete Walker movies, pretty harsh to say the least. Another trait they have in common is the unusual and often terrible casting and performances. Rather like Frightmare, and Die Screaming, Marianne; Whipcord sadly falls foul of having a number of terrible actors including Ray Brooks who literally plays the same character he has during his entire career (and that includes Mr. Benn), never a particularly good actor Brooks terrible performance literally reeks here. But it’s the casting of Karan David as Karen that creates the biggest laughs, pretending to be French is a road that this actress should never have pursued, and as the movie progresses it’s blatantly apparent that David lost track of exactly what nationality she was.

 

On the flip side of the coin Sheila Keith gives of a well rounded performance as someone both harsh, but capable of the same sort of tongue in cheek humour as the movies director, I’d go as far as to say that the character she plays of Walker was a self imposed homage by the director himself, even naming her after himself. There is a most wonderful piece where Keith and Bates are trying to flee the police, covered in blood and bruises when pulled over and asked if “Do you mind if I have a few words with you?” by a police officer, this moment so amusing it could come off the back of any Carry On movie, it’s a pure delight.

 

Incest raises a familiar head as it does in a number of Walker movies, here the relationship between a mother and her son is certainly moved into a very suspicious light, and anyone not seeing this is looking at the world through those famous rose tinted glasses. The worst factor is the sheer disgustingness of both the characters, the thought of them engaging in anything other than a platonic relationship extreme enough without them needing to be related.

 

While quite a predictable movie now, back in 1974 Walker used an awful lot of techniques in the movie that are now more commonplace, the result at the time was a shocking wakeup call from British horror. Though never banned when the whole video nasty furore in the UK was underway, it was conveniently arranged that House Of The Whipcord was not seen for a period of about 14 years from the beginning of enforced movie certification. It was not until Nigel Wingrove’s company Redemption formed releasing video’s of movies lost in the passage of time that House Of The Whipcord was not only seen again, but generated a new public love for the movie. 

The House Of Mortal Sin

Also known as The Confessional Murders, Pete Walkers 1976 movie The House Of Mortal Sin gained Walker unexpected notoriety both during the year of its release, but a further 8 years later when having appeared on video for a couple of years, the movie found itself banned in its native England. Why did the movie find itself outlawed in the UK? Because it committed the ultimate sin, in delivering horror spills it also had a rather hostile stab at the often believed corruptness of the Roman Catholic Church, something they simply would not allow to happen.

 

While out shopping, and in a slightly distracted manner Jenny Welch (Susan Penhaligon) steps into the path of an oncoming car, fortunately its driver is a very good one and stops before any damage is done. This isolated incident brings together childhood friends when it transpires that the driver is old school friend Bernard (Norman Eshley) now a priest newly arrived to work in the nearby Roman Catholic Church. Having enjoyed the reunion over a coffee, Jenny is enriched by this reunion; and in celebrating this feeling she heads for the church where Bernard works. Believing that Bernard is giving confession, Jenny heads for the booth where she finds Father Xavier Meldrum (Anthony Sharp). Realising that Jenny has something heavy on her shoulders to offload, Father Meldrum persuades her to give confession, during which she reveals that boyfriend Terry some months earlier made her pregnant and forced her to have an abortion. Unbeknown to Jenny however that is Father Meldrum records all his confessions, and opts to make all of his flock’s and in particular Jenny’s problems disappear, regardless of exactly how he achieves his goals.

 

House Of Mortal Sin, is in many ways unlike a lot of other Walker movies; no lesbian overtones as in House Of The Whipcord, No power drill cannibals as in Frightmare, no incest crazed families as in Die Screaming, Marianne; no House Of Mortal Sin comes off for a large part like a traditional Hammer Horror movie. But from this more traditional shell, Walker splinters something of the insane upon his audience creating a horrific terror in a warm and cosy environment.

 

Sadly this tale of a psychopath priest who will happily kill to protect those who confess to their sins to him, takes a decidedly dull path to its conclusion. Please don’t get me wrong as a whole the movie is a superior if not quirky piece of British filmmaking, what happens with The House Of Mortal Sin is a sad tale of unfulfilled promise. The reason of the downfall is after the best part of an hour of pretty much near blinding, curious, enchanting storytelling; the movie stumbles off down the route of being like any old 70’s horror movie that England turned out during that time, slightly stuffy and incredibly familiar.

 

Until that final portion though I really enjoyed the movie, I loved the thought of this religious character shuffling around in the night snuffing out anyone that interferes with the hopes and dreams of an innocent party; while the movie focuses on Jenny’s story all around you see the wreckage of a dozen other families ripped asunder by Father Meldrum’s unique tool of justice. What of course stands out about the movie is the thought of hindsight, while often in our darkest hours we wish ill of those that offend us deep down in the pit of our stomach we really don’t mean it. Not only does the movie cover that ground, but also looks at the ground of mistaken identity, of people being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and finding themselves caught in a terribly bloody crossfire.

 

Like all other Pete Walker movies the cast are sure-fire products of the day lead actress Susan Penhaligon had shot to fame through the movies The Land That Time Forgot and No Sex Please Were British as well as cameo performances in the likes of Doctor Who and Upstairs Downstairs. Anthony Sharp who played Father Meldrum was a well loved actor of the day that appeared in pretty much any British movie you might find, from A Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon to popular re-occurring roles in TV shows like Steptoe And Son, Sharp was a much loved character of the day so his appearance here was most out of character, his real fame however came after his death when he became a bit of a cult hero. Popular actress Stephanie Beacham who had suddenly shot to fame, was only at the beginning of her career here just a few short years after her legendary Playboy centrefold. Norman Eshley took the role of Bernard, an actor who was appearing in two successful British comedy shows of the day Man About The House, and George and Mildred. As well as a scattering of other British stars of the day there was of course a place for Pete Walker favourite Sheila Keith, who here as with all her other Walker collaborations (except House Of The Long Shadows) played a rather understated villain.

 

Unlike a lot of other Walker features the actors here are on fine form, never once did I find myself on the verge of laughter because of a terrible performance, not one piece of ham acting to be found here.

 

As an around piece and in comparison to the dreary Amicus (a similar rival to Hammer, Hammer at this time having fallen into a sudden decline) offerings of the day, The House Of Mortal Sin is a pretty inspiring piece of British horror.