What the Peeper Saw (1972)

whatpeeperBoobies. In a word, that’s What the Peeper Saw.

In the British pervo-chiller, the Peeping Tom in question is named Marcus (Mark Lester, Oliver!), a 12-year-old just home from boarding school, presumably due to a chickenpox outbreak. This gives Marcus an opportunity to finally meet his hot stepmother, Elise (Britt Ekland, The Man with the Golden Gun), and perhaps even bond with her, since Dad is stuck in Paris. As the saying goes, while the cat’s away, the mice will feel up New Mom.

To be honest, she doesn’t exactly discourage the “attention,” either. In fact, the day after Marcus reaches from his bubble bath to cop a clothed feel, Elise practically rushes to towel him off as he emerges from the pool. That’s nothing compared to the movie’s most infamous scene, in which Elise strips nude for the tween in exchange for information. (For all the unsimulated squeezes she endures in an hour and a half, poor Britt deserved hazard pay.)

whatpeeper1But, hey, S-E-X is only part of Peeper’s picture. Its real thrills — benign they may be — stem from Elise’s increasing suspicion that Marcus may have murdered his own mother years ago, which means she may be next. And thus unfolds a tale of mistrust, jealousy, voyeurism and pussycat torture.

And it’s not like Elise hinders the kid’s psychopathic tendencies, either: “Hello, genius. What are you reading? De Sade?” she cracks. “Did you love your mother?”

Bottom line: Elise may have been born without maternal instincts, but Marcus is, unquestionably, one odd duck. So is this flick, co-written and co-directed by Andrea Bianchi, who, believe it or not, went even more unnerving in the department of incestuous overtones with 1981’s Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror. If you’ve seen that slice of zombie sleaze, you know The Scene. (And if you don’t, you owe yourself a nip of rectification.)

For all its bizarre themes and, um, touches, What the Peeper Saw barely qualifies for one viewing. Bianchi and cohort James Kelley (The Beast in the Cellar) appear to have written themselves into such a corner, they decided the best route for a wrap-up was to go off the rails. En route to the end credits, they deliver an utterly baffling ending that, while leaving questions floating, at least retains the film’s oh-so-sour disposition. —Rod Lott

Get it at Amazon.

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