Schlock Corridor: Day Ten

SCHLOCK CORRIDOR: House Of Whipcord

Good lord. After yesterday's terrorfest known as Legion Of The Dead, I thought 1974's House Of Whipcord would be a walk in the park. This kind of exploitation stuff is right up my alley. Old school grindhouse cinema rarely disappoints me, and this particular film was directed by Pete Walker, the British fellow who helmed 1976's Schizo, a gritty little slasher film I like quite a bit. But House Of Whipcord is no Schizo.

The main plot follows a young French model living in England named Anne-Marie (Penny Irving) who was recently arrested at a photo shoot for public nudity, fined ten pounds, and subsequently turned loose. She meets some skeletal dude named Mark E. Desade (that's a subtle fucking hint) whose intense, cruel glare just screams "trustworthy". After one quick, awkward date where Mark pretends to slash Anne-Marie's cheek open with a steak knife, she falls head over heels in love and agrees to accompany him to his countryside estate in order to meet his parents. Unfortunately, his parents are a doddering old blind judge and his ex-reform school matron wife, and they operate an illegal prison outside of their mansion, where they incarcerate girls who break some vaguely-defined "moral contract" that has something to do with religious fundamentalism and a return to traditional family values in this godless decade known as the 1970's. That's some straight-up Star Chamber shit.

Mark and his parents think Anne-Marie got off too easy for her public nudity charge, and decide to lock her up in the House Of Whipcord. Meanwhile, her gal pal Julie (Anne Michelle, star of Virgin Witch) makes some phone calls, lounges around topless, and half-heartedly wonders where Anne-Marie might have gone when she isn't busy making out with her flat-faced boyfriend. Anne-Marie attempts to escape, gets caught, attempts to escape again, gets caught again, attempts to escape for a third time, and gets lynched for her trouble because there's a three-strike rule at this particular illegal women's prison.

Julie eventually follows the clues to the ominous estate, finds her friend's dangling corpse, and perhaps the most disturbingly inert climactic chase sequence I have ever seen begins. It's literally just ten minutes of barely-connected scenes of various people wandering around nondescript corridors, gooning around like they're looking for a hiding birthday party clown. The suddenly insane matron accidentally stabs her greasy son 75 times in the dark and feels so guilty she immediately decides to hang herself with the convenient noose dangling over her blood-soaked face. Julie's boyfriend shows up with the police just in time to not accomplish much, because Julie's safe, the other employees were already running away when they were pulled over by the bobbies, and the blind old judge wasn't going to do anything more than soak his corduroy trousers if confronted with anything more intimidating than a slice of dry toast. They do manage to release the half dozen other prisoners, though, which is nice. The movie ended with some boring narration from the boring old judge as it plays over a shot of the prisoners being escorted out of the estate, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the screen finally faded to black.

I know things technically happen in House Of Whipcord, but I never felt like I was watching anything happen. It was all so flat and lifeless that my mind kept wandering away from the events occurring on the screen, trying to entertain itself with something else, anything else. I had to force myself to finish watching this movie. I ended up taking three breaks to make it to the end. At one hour and forty-two minutes in length,  the film was simply too damned long. They should have cut at least one of her escape attempts to consolidate the narrative. I rarely reach a point where I literally can't watch an entire movie in one sitting, preferring to simply endure even some of the worst dreck. I watched Legion Of The Dead in one sitting, for example, as well as every other film I've watched for this exercise. But I just couldn't hack it with House Of Whipcord.

Nearly every cast member is basically sleepwalking through their role, which is hardly surprising considering the wet noodle of a screenplay they all have to work with. The concept has so much potential, but this movie squanders it all. Look at the various "women in prison" films from the decade, many of which are inventive, engaging and actually fun. I'm not saying this movie has to be a goofy ride like The Big Bird Cage, but it doesn't have to be such a dour, funereal experience. If you're going to make a serious film out of the story of a young woman being wrongfully imprisoned by a cabal of English fundamentalist vigilantes in their idyllic countryside estate, subjected to brutal torture at the hands of the sadistic matron before being summarily executed, then you have to try a little harder. You're not Pasolini, and this is not The 120 Days Of Sodom. There is not enough talent in this cast and crew to pull off a so-called "real movie" with such poorly thought-out material.

And why the fuck did the director allow his lead actress Penny Irving, a born and bred Brit, to portray her character with such a ridiculous French accent? It was so overwrought I couldn't take anything she said seriously. She's being put through a terrible ordeal in this film, and every time she opens her mouth I can't help but snicker. That's how effective her accent is. Ask any random woman to attempt a French accent, and it will sound better than this. My fucking dog could affect a better French accent than Penny Irving, and he's not a professional actor. She also plays "wounded" like she had too much to drink and is struggling to stay awake through a late-night re-run of Judge Judy. Not good.

This film's only saving grace is the radiant Ann Michelle, who masterfully played the supporting role of Anne-Marie's best friend Julie. I say "masterfully", and I'm sticking with it. Shit, compared to the rest of this graveyard of a cast, she deserves a fucking Academy Award. Her face is incredibly expressive, her large eyes sell her character's feelings of worry and desperation as she continues her search for Anne-Marie, she can deliver her dialogue with sensibility, and I actually empathized with her as her story unfolded. I didn't want her to get murdered during the climax, and I can't say the same about anybody else in the cast. I was actually secretly hoping that they would all somehow kill each other, leaving poor Julie alive to rebuild her life without all of the dead weight the rest of these assholes represent. You're better than this, Ann Michelle!

There are plenty of questions to ask regarding the plot of House Of Whipcord. For instance: where do they get the money to maintain this prison and pay their employees? Why do they bother with filling out home-made death warrants if the whole operation is illegal and they know it? After all, they're not presenting these death warrants to the authorities to explain why they keep murdering all of these women for the most minor of infractions. Now that I think of it, what do they do with the bodies? Doesn't anybody ever come around asking questions? How long have they been doing this? How the fuck are they getting away with this?

Plenty of questions, but I don't care enough to seek answers. I can't even get upset, because I can't muster enough emotion to feel much of anything for House Of Whipcord. I'm done talking about this sleeping pill of a movie. I just don't have it in me to say anything else. I think I'm going to go pass out.

TOMORROW: Screamtime