Mortelles confessions

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.

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?).

The church is corrupt, that's what director Walker seems to be saying in a rather clumsy way with this exploitation effort. Elements of "Psycho" are mixed uneasily with "Rosemary's baby", about a mad priest who tapes his confessional sessions and keeps his bedridden mother in the attic. There is extortion, murder (by religious symbols like a rosary and an incense-burner) and an accomplice with a disfigured face (eye-patch and all!). Some scenes, ie the ones with the bedridden mother, border on the tasteless, but I somehow think that that was the point. Surprisingly good performances from a largely unknown cast, with Sheila Keith as a standout in a (too) minor role. Boy, can she give a murderous glance! It's not a stunning tour-de-force like "Frighmare" by the same director, but still manage to pack a punch or two, despite some dreary bits (most of them involving the hero-priest who is too goody-goody to be interesting). For those who is familiar with Pete Walker and his movies, the ending will come as no surprise, but to others it will be shocking/frustrating in about equal measures.

Well... Mortal Sin opens with a pretty gruesome scene. Young chick comes home crying... runs up to her room, reads the bible, and we're off on the adventure. Then our star "Jenny" (Susan Penhaligon) meets up with her old school buddy (Norman Eshley) who is now a priest. Lots of talking, drinking tea, confessions in the church, and of course, eerie, creepy music. Anthony Sharp is Father Xavier, and plays a large part in our story. Some of the scenes don't really make sense, but I guess you have to buy into it. Next thing you know, her school, priest friend is now shacking up with Jenny. Holy guacamole, batman! Lots of odd things and nasty things. Not for the young 'uns. An entertaining viewing, but SO predictable. All of it.

Recommended on the Frank Dicaro show (XM radio), this is one of the campy horror flicks which didn't start out to be that way. Written, directed, and produced by Peter Walker, British director. Acc to en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pete_Walker_(director) , he had made films that fell under various categories in the 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, frequently using the same cast of characters.

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.