Crime and punishment... House of Whipcord (1974)

Ah, now… this is one of those films that sounds worse than it is; it’s a clumsy title and even the opening dedication "… to those who are disturbed by today's lax moral codes and who eagerly await the return of corporal and capital punishment"… doesn’t necessarily give the game away, at least for some over-earnest reviewers. Director and story writer Peter Walker was deeply opposed to the misuse of authority and what he saw as an ever-widening gap between the establishment and most of (permissive) society. Like many of his films, House of Whipcord was very successful and its more sensational elements – frequent nudity, sometimes excruciating cruelty and pretty women in prison – all but obscured its message.

The version I saw was probably an edited version and it seems odd for a film featuring such actorly talent as Ray Brooks, Patrick Barr and Barbara Markham in such sensationalist fare. Both Brooks and Barr were to feature in Walker’s The Flesh and Blood Show (which has far more of the former than the latter) and his films are well made overall in spite of clear budget constraints. He creates real atmosphere and tension with stories that are indeed more “terror” (his preferred descriptor) than horror and more sin-full than sinning (just about). They’re engaging and characterful even if not all of the performers are of the quality of the aforementioned.

Sheila Keith

 The film’s structure is also quite unusual beginning not quite with the end but with a pivotal moment in the narrative that we assume could be the end – for good or bad. An exhausted young woman is running through woods in a desperate search for someone to help her. She’s covered in bruises and is wearing a thin blue dress… she’s picked up by a lorry driver (Ivor Salter) who takes her in his cab and finding her almost unable to communicate, heads off to get her help.

Then the story really starts as we find a group of young adults who are enjoying a “permissive” existence. Julia (Ann Michelle – Vicky’s sister) is having an affair with a man, Tony (Brooks) who is either married or in a long-term relationship; he is weighing up leaving his partner for Julia. Her flatmate, Ann-Marie (Penny Irving, famous for several Top of the Pops/Hot Hits LP covers as well as Are You Being Served) is French and a model who is not averse to nude work (Irving herself made numerous appearances on page three of the Sun and Mirror…).

Permissive society in action

At a party to celebrate something, there’s a large black and white shot of Ann-Marie topless being arrested by a policeman at a protest. The others agree it’s a great bit of agitation but the model herself is less impressed by their celebrations. She slinks off for some introspective browsing and meets an intense young fellow called Mark (the unblinking Robert Tayman) who appears attentive and agrees with her unease about the protest shots.

She agrees to see Mark again and whilst they have an agreeable meal he plays a trick on her by getting her to close her eyes whilst he pretends that an ice cube is the cold cutting edge of a knife. He laughs at her horrified reaction but charms her over at the end… we’re not convinced.

Ann Michelle and Penny Irving

 The story focuses a lot more on Ann-Marie and Mark at this point with Julia and Tony very much in the background – also atypical working from Walker. Mark whisks Ann-Marie off in his smart sporty Aston Martin to stay with his parents somewhere out West; he drives too fast and is pretty mean and even when Ann-Marie spots a ring with the name Mark E. Desade on it, she dismisses it… but we know. Well, we’ve read the film’s title for a start.

Eventually they arrive at Mark’s family pile and an imposing pile of granite grey it is too. He leads his girl into the building and leaves her with two officious women: Walker (Sheila Keith) and Bates (Dorothy Gordon) quickly change the atmosphere for Ann-Marie and a few slaps and being forced to strip soon make her realise that this is not quite the weekend she’d been expecting… She’s locked up in a cell with another girl, Claire (Judy Robinson) who is too terrified to speak and very weak.

An ice "slice" from Robert Tayman

Next Ann-Marie is hauled up in front of the establishment’s head Mrs. Wakehurst (Barbara Markham) and an old blind judge Justice Bailey (Patrick Barr): this is a private prison and they have decided to punish her for her crimes of lax morality. She’s quickly sentenced and told that she will have three chances with punishment getting more severe each time.

It’s pretty horrible stuff and not at all titillating: Walker’s lustful glances at her new young prey are unsettling and the punishment beatings are grotesque all the more so for being heard more than seen… it’s the atmosphere that Walker builds that creates the tension and this film is more disturbing than many a more graphic modern horror.

Naturally Ann-Marie tries to escape and she, naturally, gets punished for it. Mark re-appears and her last hope disappears as this is no misunderstanding; he is part of it, sent out to lure “amoral” young things into mummy’s deranged world. Still… she makes plans with the other girls (including a young Celia Imrie) to escape the place for good.

Barbara Markham and Patrick Barr

Meanwhile, Julia has finally realised something’s wrong – despite Tony’s re-assurances and sets out to track down her friend… and that’s when things start to ramp up and the pace changes more into action and some quite shocking scenes.

Dusty verdict: House of Whipcord is certainly no generic “women in prison” film and has a lot to say about intolerance, man’s inhumanity to woman and the hypocrisy of those who enjoy their vengeance on young wrong-doers. The punishment just does not fit the crime and that’s the point; today we see this more and more with social media junkies baying for blood and relishing every twist and turn…

It's atmospheric and the unusual narrative keeps you anxious especially given strong perfromances from the jailors and captives - Penny Irving in particular.

The film is now available on Bluray after long years in the VHS dungeon. Available from Amazon of course.

Pier pressure… The Flesh and Blood Show (1972)

There is something of the plot structure of early period Scooby Doo in Peter Walker’s pier-bound whodunit save for the talking dog, the Mystery Machine and copious amounts of blood and naked flesh: it does what it says on the tin in this respect. Walker’s stock in trade was oppressive horror featuring pretty young things in peril as in The House of Whipcord and Frightmare and here he takes a decent cast and makes a stab at a more considered tale.

In spite of some slow pacing and a perp so obvious even Scrappy Doo would have spotted him (although there is a twist…) The Flesh and Blood Show is redeemed by good performances and superb atmospherics. Any film with Ray Brooks, Luan Peters, Jenny Hanley and Patrick Barr can’t be all bad and they have plenty to get their teeth into.

The film opens with a comic foretaste of what is to come, as the boorish John (David Howey) knocks on the door of two female friends and pretends to have been knifed. It’s an ostensibly gory start and one that also provides an opportunity to marvel at the quite exceptional physical attributes of Luan Peters as she dashes naked from bed to help her idiot pal. You know where you are with this film but not necessarily right away…

Only joking! David Howey makes sure Judy Matheson and Luan Peters get the point.

Walker plays with expectations not just with the first scene but when are travelling band arrives at a seaside pier theatre – Cromer’s Pavilion Theatre - to find what looks like two dead bodies: a man head thrown back and a nude woman seemingly despatched where they sat in the stalls. But it’s only Robin Asquith taking a nap along with his inexplicably nude partner, Angela (Penny Meredith).

Asquith’s Simon and Angela are among the early arrivals at this mysterious gig which has pulled together an eclectic bunch of actors and a director, Mike (Ray Brooks) in order to work up a production before transfer to London. The Agents involved are mysterious and, as in an Agatha Christie novel, the ten little actors (not a miss-count…) gradually realise how little they know.

Seven characters in search of an author...

Yet it takes a while for things to get dark. The troop get to know each other quickly enough – very quickly in the case of dashing Australian Tony (Tristan Rogers) who gets to share a changing room with curvaceous Carol (Luan Peters) much to John’s disgust although things look up as he spies Carol’s pal Jane (Judy Matheson) being seduced by Angela (clearly fully rested after her nap with Simon…).

Ah, free love and those innocent times… but this was 1972 and the tide was definitely turning on carefree expression. In the middle of the night a scream rings out and no one can find Angela. Mike sets off torch in hand – it’s all a bad dream surely she’s just gone off to find a proper bed? But, passing a row of wax heads he is shocked to find that one of them is blonde and covered in blood; she’s been decapitated in the surprisingly-functional guillotine back stage.

Ray Brooks gets a shock

The police are called in but there’s no sign… and a note explaining that she’s gone back to London… odd timing but the gang mostly accept it especially as they are soon joined by a glamorous stranger, Julia (played by Magpie’s very own sex siren Jenny Hanley). We’ve previously seen Julia at a playback of a period film – which also features the ubiquitous Jess Conrad. She’s a future star and has been sent to gain stage experience.

Jenny Hanley

The others are impressed, especially Tony who casts appreciative glances as Julia undresses in the changing room much to Carol’s disgust – out-blonded (although it is a matter of taste…). This instant triangle distracts the audience once again from any seeming inevitability in the horror narrative and we’re soon lost in the day-to-day as the actors start working on their routine.

Another actress joins them, and our cup over-floweth as the raven-haired loveliness of Candace Glendenning arrives as local thesp Sarah.

Candace Glendenning, Judy Matheson and Tristan Rogers

Now quorate again, the real story can kick on but… strangely, it doesn’t. Yes there is a mysterious gloved figure watching the rehearsals from the gods but we still have some way to go before normal horrific service can be resumed.

The actors head into town for a laugh at a café where they meet friendly old Major Bell (Patrick Barr) and his dog. They meet him again when staying over at Sarah’s aunt’s for a shower and tea (Elizabeth Bradley) and it’s here that they learn of an enduring mystery connected to the wartime disappearance of three actors from the theatre.

Julia heads off to the library to investigate and finds old newspaper reports of the last performance of Sir Arnold Gates whose Othello disappeared along with his wife, Lady Pamela’s Desdemona and their Iago.

All will be revealed in time but in 1972 more actors start going missing and soon the body count has included Sarah and even the lovely Carol (on “principle” I almost stopped watching at this point: let Luan live!!). Is it the creepy John or something else entirely?

The tension mounts but then we get a black and white flashback – one of the 3D sequences in the original screenings – that explains (almost) all as the loony tune toys in the attic are revealed… It’s not quite a tale of the unexpected but there’s more in store as a further twist is added at the death…

In the spotlight

Dusty verdict: The Flesh and Blood Show doesn’t disappoint on its title until a patchy ending but it is an enjoyable romp with top notch cinematography from Peter Jessop and a good build up of tension from Peter Walker.

There are good performances and Ray Brooks is excellent as always – such a fine actor from The Knack to Walford. There’s also a completely beguiling line up of seventies beauty from lovely Luan to the frankly flawless Miss Hanley not to mention Hammer regular Judy Matheson and Candace Glendenning: this is premier league pulchritude and Walker doesn’t hold back in maximising the presentation of their secondary sexual characteristics…

If that appeals and you like creepy stories set in run-down piers then this film is for you even if you may fast forward near the end.

The Flesh and Blood Show is now available in Blu-ray – as if to underline the enduring allure of period sexuality – but it’s also a proper film the appreciation of which should not be undermined too much by its sensationalism.