La casa del pecado mortal

Even though the majority of his movies haven't gone on to win vast acclaim or classic status, any fan of cinema would have to admit that British horror maestro Pete Walker is one of the most fascinating directors of the seventies. House of Mortal Sin follows the common Pete Walker theme of hypocrisy in an institution; and this time it's the church that gets lampooned. The film does feel like an all too obvious attempt to drum up some controversy, but it's all so well done that it's easy to ignore this fact and just enjoy the twisted imagination of Pete Walker and scriptwriter David McGillivray. Catholic priests are always above suspicion due their high moral ground in society, and so the idea that one of them could go off the rails and abuse his privileges is as intriguing as it is frightening. The story follows Father Xavier Meldrum; a priest who tapes the confessions of his parishioners and then uses them for blackmailing purposes! And he isn't content to stop there, as if the blackmail doesn't go to plan - he isn't morally above murder!

The film is a little overlong and slightly overindulgent at times; but Pete Walker paces the plot well, and although at least ten minutes could have been shaved from the movie; it never gets boring. Walker is great at creating atmosphere, and through ugly cinematography and downbeat locations, the director ensures that there is nothing pleasant about the movie. The murder scenes are graphic in a typically seventies fashion, although the talented director never lets the blood overtake the plot, and the murder scenes are an event within the movie; rather than the plot being tied around the gore. The film takes influence from a range of sources, including the slasher sub-genre (most notably Psycho), as well as the Italian Giallo (the black gloves towards the end being a particular highlight) and even Walker's own previous efforts. As usual, Walker pulls great performances out of his older actors. Anthony Sharp is suitably sinister in the lead role, and also manages to retain his edge of authority. Hilda Barry gives the film the right amount of horror as the mother, while Walker regular Sheila Keith rounds off the cast in a convincingly macabre role. On the whole; this may not be as great as House of Whipcord, but House of Mortal Sin is further proof that Pete Walker really knows how to make his audience think and comes recommended.

Catholic priest Father Xavier Meldrum (Anthony Sharp) becomes obsessed with parishioner Jenny Welch (Susan Penhaligon) who unwisely pays a visit to his confessional after a break-up with her boyfriend. Excited by the gorgeous young woman, but unable to have her, Meldrum is driven to kill using rosary beads, a flaming incense burner and poisoned communion wafers as his weapons.

House of Mortal Sin sees British exploitation legends David McGillivray and Pete Walker having fun at the expense of Catholicism, depicting the murderous antics of a sexually frustrated Catholic priest with a mother complex whose mind has been twisted by a lifetime of repressed carnal urges. It should be a whole lot of salacious silliness, but sadly falls short of the mark.

Despite the film's deliberately controversial subject matter and plenty of sadistic violence, House of Mortal Sin is actually one of my least favourite Walker movies thanks to a dreary narrative, a plodding pace and surprisingly uninspired direction. Penhaligon is lovely as the poor subject of Meldrum's attention but is given little to do other than look frightened; likewise, Sheila Keith is wasted in yet another role that calls for her to be cruel and emotionless.

Disappointing Pete Walker film which flirts with a variety of good ideas but manages to fumble all of them.

Story has vulnerable young woman (Penhaligon) going to Confession, where she is harassed by the priest whose fatherly concerns have a sinister element. He turns out to be a crazed killer, stemming from his mother (yawn!!) who still lives with him in a semi-vegetable state.

Plot goes into a poor-mans 'Rosemary's Baby' scenario, Penhaligon unable to convince anyone of the truth, with the Priest above suspicion because of his position.

Film labours its point that religious restrictions have fashioned Father Meldrum into a killer, while the younger Priest who tries to help is too wet for the audience to respond to. All this leaves Stephanie Beacham as the best thing here. At least the film doesn't cop-out at the end, but by then we are past caring. A film students favourite, but more interesting to study than to watch.

A very fine Walker effort. Not really a horror film nor a giallo but very British. Must have upset as many as it pleased upon release with it's uncompromising attack upon the Church in general and the Catholic Church in particular. Excellent central performances and it is these performances that helps the film over the odd script shortcomings. Not for the easily offended but for everyone else quite a treat and who is to say accusations of wrong doings by priests and cover ups by other self righteous members of society is so far fetched? Begins well and although gets a bit lost halfway through, there is a full powered body strewn build up to a surprising ending.

Tense, horrible, and funny at the same time, made without frills, for both practical and aesthetic reasons, this is my favorite of Pete Walker's trilogy because it is the strongest-centered, in the characters of the priest and his main victim (the actors have a lot to do with this). It's a study in how to generate suspense with a minimum of resources. Rather than a would-be giallo, I'd identify it as an updating of 19th-century melodrama. The director plainly worked best on minuscule budgets, using them to maximum effect, but he couldn't entirely disguise their restrictions (e.g., where is everybody? don't these people ever go anywhere?).