Warleggan’s famously eccentric vicar is the subject of a new feature film made on Bodmin Moor. Simon Parker attended its first public screening

TAKE two stories. The first features a lonely, shy, man of principle who delivers armfulls of rhododendron flowers to his parishioners, takes them milk from his own cow when they're ill and builds a children's playground with his own money. The second concerns a mad-eyed zealot with communist sympathies, whose mania drives away the pious, alienates villagers, and leads to him surrounding the vicarage with barbed wire and preaching to pews of cardboard figures.

Clearly the latter is far juicier fare to the thriller writer – and it is this version which was immortalised by Daphne du Maurier.

But where does the truth lie? The answer is probably somewhere between the two, though sadly for Frederick Densham he is likely to be remembered forever in popular myth as a madman.

What is certain is that the Reverend Frederick William Densham moved to the parish of Warleggan on Bodmin Moor to become rector of St Bartholomew's church in 1931. It is also fairly well documented that his unorthodox manner rubbed people up the wrong way from the start. He began his ministry at the isolated parish by painting the church's interior with bright murals, banning concerts and whist drives, consorting with chapel folk, and preaching vegetarianism in a parish of farmers.

Whatever his motives or his particular brand of Christianity, Densham was determined to make his mark, creating enemies among the more suspicious members of his flock. Declaring that whist drives and other entertainments were "amusements from hell", he also threatened to get rid of the ancient organ, describing its music as a "gabbled profanity". However, he found an adversarial equal in outspoken farmer and churchwarden Nick Bunt, who is said to have warned him: "If you touch that organ, vicar, I'll knock ee down."

Encouraged by the growing anti-Densham brigade, the congregation of St Bartholomew's gradually dwindled until by 1935 he preached to empty pews. The church council protested to the Bishop of Truro but, as the rector had committed no crime and continued to hold services, he was powerless. Becoming more isolated and eccentric by the day, Densham sang the hymns alone, composed new sermons each week and placed small cards on pews bearing the names of his predecessors going back hundreds of years. This was perhaps the source of the "cardboard parishioners" myth.

What is often conveniently overlooked in the quest for a soundbite is that Frederick Densham was a thoughtful, well-educated man who was a graduate of London University and the Divinity School at Oxford. He had travelled widely and was passionate about a number of international issues, particularly Indian Independence. One theory was that he had suffered a breakdown and was sent to the rural peace of Bodmin Moor to recuperate.

So what of that lasting image of cardboard parishioners lined up along the pews? Those in Warleggan who remember Densham say it is nothing but a fiction dreamt up by Daphne du Maurier.

Cyril and Barbara Keast, who still live in Warleggan and knew the Reverend Densham, believe he was a much misunderstood individual, who tried his best against the odds.

Mr Keast, who worked for him on occasions, said: "I always found him to be a very straight man. I often did jobs for him and if we were whitewashing the church or doing some gardening work he would always bring us a drink out.

"I have always believed that the real problem stemmed from the fact that back then the church people and the chapel people were different clans and the church people thought their vicar was getting too friendly with the chapel people.

"He was eccentric, of course, but I wonder if all the dirty tricks people played on him may have had a lot to do with the way he was. And we never saw any cardboard parishioners.

"The thing that made me most angry was after he died and his body was carried out. I saw it with my own eyes. And he was carried out like an animal – it was disgusting. I saw his feet sticking out the back of the truck. That's no way to treat anyone."

Whatever the reasons for Densham's behaviour, his story remains a colourful episode in Cornwall's history. The subject of endless literary musings, it was also the basis of a radio play and a TV film starring John Gielgud and John Hurt.

Now comes A Congregation Of Ghosts, a full-length feature made on location in Cornwall and starring Edward Woodward in the central role.

At a screening for cast and crew in Truro's Plaza Cinema, what those attending were eager to know was would this film go some way to challenging the popular myth of Densham the Madman or simply perpetuate it? Would it portray the people of Warleggan as a hostile and vindictive bunch, who persecuted a sad, gentle soul until he lost his mind? Or would it show a mentally ill religious maniac trying to smash the age-old traditions of a peaceful Cornish parish? For film-maker Mark Collicott it was a difficult balancing act, on the one hand wanting to be sympathetic, but aware of the cinematic opportunities to be mined in the rich stories that have grown up around Densham.

As writer, director and producer, the decisions were ultimately Mark Collicott's alone and it was clear from the opening credits and a quote from Mahatma Gandhi – who Denhsam revered – that he was trying to be even-handed about the issue. Born and bred in Wadebridge and with Cornish family roots going back generations, Mr Collicott fully understands the sensibilities of tackling this difficult subject with both tact and authenticity.

In the event, what he presents is a visual banquet, beautifully shot – from the opening sequence of a sleek Jaguar crossing the moor at sundown through to Densham's introspections in old age – at Warleggan church, Pencarrow House, Lease Cottage at St Breward and Altarnun village hall, as well as in lanes and on open moorland.

Edward Woodward was an inspired choice for the part of Densham. Convincing throughout, his is a highly sensitive and moving performance.

"Edward Woodward is just fantastic, absolutely brilliant," said Mark Collicott. "He was my first and only choice for the part of Densham and I was so relieved when he said yes."

Among the other well-known actors are Natasha Little, who recently appeared in Spooks; Murray McArthur, who has worked alongside Johnny Depp and is the voice of Ginsters pasties; Susannah Doyle, who appeared in Drop The Dead Donkey, Ballykissangel, and About A Boy; and Nicholas Gleaves, from Foyles War and Silent Witness. Local stars include David White from Penzance and Jane Nancarrow from Launceston, who play the loyal churchwarden and his confrontational wife.

Mark Collicott himself has enjoyed a varied working life, starting as a photographer for the NME before becoming art director at Saatchi and Saatchi. He has won a number of major awards and worked alongside such luminaries as Norman Parkinson, Brian Griffin, Tony Kaye and Ridley Scott. A Congregation Of Ghosts, filmed in 35mm, is his first big screen release for Whitechapel Films.

"Densham's is a great story which makes a great drama and I'm very pleased with the result," he said. "I'm a really proud Cornishman so I was determined the film would be authentic – it's not Wycliffe or Doc Marten or something like that. We've used a lot of people from the local area so that the accents are authentic and I'm very proud of the result – it looks fantastic."

Mark says he hopes to show A Congregation Of Ghosts at selected film festivals in the UK and America in the coming months and after that would like to see it put on general release.

Whether it appears on TV or the big screen, there is no doubt that audiences will be fascinated by the story, though a few moments in the film might raise eyebrows closer to home, particularly the idea that a Cornish parochial church council – in the 1930s – would criticise their vicar to his face. They might well have muttered in private but inate politeness would surely have prevented open hostility and finger-pointing. Then there is the matter of the cardboard parishioners, which must have been too tempting cinematically to omit. Finally, it might be argued that by focusing on supposed "sightings" of the reverend in and around the church and vicarage in more recent times the very real and very human story is somehow clouded by supernatural bunkum.

However, these are details, and do not in any way detract from the film's power to inform and entertain. Ultimately, as the credits roll, cinema audiences – like the one in Truro – will be left wondering whether the whole sorry affair played out over three decades was simply the result of a clash of personalities, and further begs the question as to whether Densham might have lived in harmony with his flock had his posting been to Temple or St Neot or Blisland, rather than Warleggan. We will never know.

For more details visit www.acongregationofghosts.com