Review for Respectable - The Mary Millington Story

I should start this review by saying a couple of things right off the bat so that you can decide whether to continue to read or not.

Firstly, ‘Respectable - The Mary Millington Story’ may be a documentary pretty much driven by talking head interviews from those who knew her best, but it is a markedly better piece than merely an extended extra feature.


Secondly, it features quite a lot more hard-core porn footage than I’d bargained for; potentially awkward if, like me, you were expecting little more than some saucy slap and tickle. But there’s method to that particular madness. Due to some fairly draconian laws in Britain during the early seventies (and right through the eighties) hard-core porn was illegal. As a result, Millington, who had already carved out a career in hard-core porn ‘on the continent’ was one of a very few models who made the transition from that to the soft-core, sub-Carry On stuff that she is perhaps best known for in the UK. So now you know. So be cautious how and when you play it to avoid any embarrassment.



As the subject of a documentary, Mary Millington is a good bet. Not only is her story that of an quirky, bohemian outsider (albeit with a tragic end), it’s set against a historic and ever-changing social landscape - that of the seventies when so much changed in Britain.


Narrated by actor Dexter Fletcher, and ‘written’ and directed by Simon Sheridan (author of the fabulous book ‘Keeping the British End Up’, the definitive tome on the seedier side of British cinema of the 70’s as well as a Millington bio, ‘Come Play With Me’) it’s a neatly presented piece which traces Mary’s history from her lonely childhood through to her untimely demise. It also puts the story very much into historic context so we hear about the ‘Say No to Porn’ protests spearheaded by Mary Whitehouse and others, as well as much about British society of the day. It also cuts generous amounts of film footage into the narrative by way of illustration as well as countless stills and video and audio interviews with Millington herself, which really enrich the film.


Despite Millington’s story being very much about being in the right place at the right time (or the wrong place depending on your viewpoint), there is no doubt that she was a very different sort from the outset; a complex, attention-seeking character who believed in free-love, no censorship and earning plenty of money.


Standing slightly less than five feet tall, this small-busted but neatly formed, very prim lady seemed like the last person on earth to become Britain’s top sex actress. Not only that, there is little doubt that she also performed illegally in under-the-counter hard-core loops and worked as a highly paid prostitute (by any other name), even apocryphally entertaining then Prime Minister Harold Wilson on at least one occasion.


Perhaps it was her meeting with perennial sleaze-bag, David Sullivan (editor of The Daily Sport and publisher of countless top-shelf skin magazines in the seventies and eighties, including the provocatively entitled ‘Whitehouse’ and ‘Private’ magazine) that was her pivotal and defining moment. It was he, as her ‘manager’ and lover who promoted her so extensively, first in his publications and later in soft-core British films like ‘Playbirds’ and ‘Come Play With Me’.


Thousands of photographs, moving pictures, libidinous words (on records) and even a notorious High Court obscenity trial later and Mary clearly became the most notorious and well-known sex superstar in Britain. The net result was a huge personal fortune, a taste for expensive drugs and all the paranoia that kicking against the establishment (and the extensive use of coke) were likely to induce, arguably leading to her death by overdose at the very height of her fame and notoriety at the tender age of 33.


The story is even more bizarre when you learn that, despite all her very public affairs, often with public figures, she remained married throughout to the husband she married in her very early twenties. When she dies, he was the major beneficiary of her will - and yet refused to be interviewed for this, or any other documentary or book about her life.

Other glamour models of the period who knew Mary (like Linzi Drew) add some interesting, contextual anecdotes too, making the whole film seem very well rounded in terms of relevant commentary. The net result is a film which feels authentic and thorough.


One oddity is the inclusion of ex-glamour model and actress, Sue Longhurst’s contributions as a completely separate interview as an extra feature. I can only assume it was filmed too late to include in the main course.
This is also true of Eddie Tudor-Pole who recounts his scenes with Mary Millington in ‘The Great Rock N’ Roll Swindle’ - perhaps seen by Sheridan to be a bit peripheral for the main film.


Although you can see the film on Netflix, I suspect none of the extra features are available there which also include an audio commentary, more interviews and a very dodgy looking un-cut, hard-core ‘stag loop’ featuring Millington too.

If you have any interest in this era of British film or history, as well as a fairly open mind, then ‘Respectable’ is certainly well worth a watch.