House of Whipcord (Pete Walker, 1973)

A nasty little number out of the UK, House of Whipcord is comes from the oeuvre of Pete Walker. 

While the vague scenario is familiar - a young woman stumbles into danger - House of Whipcord is unique.

Instead of your typical monsters or killers, our protagonist ends up in court.

But not just any court - the villains of this picture are former members of the British justice system who have taken it upon themselves to hand out punishment to the younger generation of the early seventies.

For such a grim premise, I wondered if the film would lean on any of the cliches of women in prison movies. One of those cliches is nudity - either through some kind of contrived fight scene or a scene of torture, where the focus is on exposing flesh. 

House of Whipcord is surprisingly chaste. There are two scenes of torture in the picture, but there is no gore or nudity - the violence is conveyed via sound design.

While it is rain-soaked and grey, House of Whipcord is not as bleak as it sounds. While the premise is creepy, it is all carried off with an undercurrent of black humour.

While they are threatening, the filmmakers focus on showing these villains’ weaknesses and foibles. Far from the implacable figure of authority, the ancient judge (Patrick Barr) is forgetful and has no idea what his subordinates are up to. Meanwhile, the head matron’s (Barbara Markham) fixation on a French prisoner (Penny Irving) is entirely because this innocent woman reminds her of her past failures. 

The arbitrary morality underpinning this gruesome group’s idea of ‘justice’, and the brutality they mete out feel like an extension of the ‘crime and punishment’ theme that is used to stir up conservative voters. In 2021, the villains’ fascistic impulses do not feel as out there as they probably did back in the early seventies.

There is also something ironic in that these punishments, based around restricting and punishing women for their personal agency and sexuality, are enforced by women. 

Most obviously, there is something comic and terrifying about the surreal juxtaposition of contemporary (seventies) fashions with the utilitarian, old-fashioned mise-en-scene of the prison. 

Irony is a key aspect of the film’s tone, but it is never at the expense of the stakes for the villains’ victims. The filmmakers’ focus on the villains’ pettiness and self-absorption highlights how pathetic their crusade is. 

At first, I found the film a little slow. We spend a lot of time establishing our lead heroine aka Psycho, but the character and her gang of friends are a little too bland. Once she is trapped in the prison, the picture hits its stride.

An offbeat spin on gothic horror, House of Whipcord is worth a look, particularly this month.