Attention, The Last House on the Left: Your reputation as a horror landmark is at stake. I call shenanigans! “Keep repeating: It’s only a movie …” and not a good one.
Yes, it has blood. Yes, it has rape. Yes, it has scenes of more unrelenting violence. But it also has slapstick comedy with rednecks, complete with “wacky” music. And a near-toothless African-American woman who would seem at home on a MADtv sketch. And dare I even mention the banjo-pop soundtrack with songs about the villains? Bad guys’ themes should not be played on the instrument most associated with TV’s Hee Haw.
But onto the story, which marks the screenwriting and directorial debut of Wes Craven, who later would birth terror icons in Freddy Krueger, Ghostface and whoever Meryl Streep played in that violin movie: Virginal 17-year-old Mari Collingwood (Sandra Cassell, Teenage Hitchhikers) and her best pal (Lucy Grantham) have the unfortunate experience of trying to score pot, but instead running into a felonious foursome led by Krug (David Hess, instantly typecast).
Krug’s so evil, he got his own son (Marc Sheffler) hooked on heroin. Weasel (Fred Lincoln) is a child molester, and Sadie (Jeramie Rain, later Mrs. Richard Dreyfuss) is merely a psycho bitch from hell. Rape and murder ensue, then the tables are turned when car trouble puts Team Krug as guests in the Collingwood home.
Craven and company’s absolute amateur-hour efforts kill whatever power was intended. That’s not to say what Krug and f(r)iends do isn’t horrible; it is. But torture of characters doth not a good movie make, and there’s nothing offered — original or otherwise — to elevate Last House. I even think some of its many rip-offs do the same story far better — Italy’s Night Train Murders, for one — and Hollywood’s vastly superior 2009 remake boasts suspense and style. Yeah, I said it. —Rod Lott
It is a flawed film, but I do balk at the end of calling it “unoriginal” since the reason it has the reputation it does today is because it pretty much went to all of those places before anyone else did. It seems unfair to deny Craven that just because everyone else did a better job copying him over the subsequent years.
@Allan: We’re talking about a film which was a blood/gore/tits/ass remake of Ingmar Bergman’s The Virgin Spring. But then, I consider Wes Craven to be a hack.
Mitchell, I’d say the plot has nothing to do with Last House’s reputation, but rather the fact that it made so little attempt to disguise its violence and cruelty with traditional cinematic tricks, instead opting for a more documentary style. It’s old hat today, but no one had really done it to that degree at that time.
Plus you should never really take Craven at his word when he says stuff like how the film was inspired by Bergman. That said, I would never call the man responsible for A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET a hack, even if he’s made some truly terrible movies.