3/17/09: The Last House on the Left (1972)Now we’re feeling better about the new remake of
The Last House on the Left. It’s not a great movie, but at least it was a break from that recent wave of nihilistic horror. From exploitive (
Wolf Creek) to artsy (
Funny Games), there were lots of films that were about serial killers getting away with murder. Even our two unexpectedly favorite horror films of this year—
My Bloody Valentine 3-D and
Friday the 13th—didn’t really offer happy endings. It’s nice to see a married couple get away with slaughtering the creeps who attacked their daughter. (Here’s a
more wholesome example.)
That shouldn’t count as a spoiler, by the way.
The Last House on the Left remake gave away the entire plot in its trailer. The studio probably figured that their target audience had already seen the original. That one’s a grindhouse classic that somehow fooled the film critics into thinking it was a sordid metaphor for the war in Vietnam. You’re also supposed to mention that
The Last House on the Left is a remake of Ingmar Bergman’s
The Virgin Spring. Critics liked that, too.
As it plays, though,
The Last House on the Left is a fine conservative saga. The main thing missing from the remake is the bumbling cops in the original. They’re one of the many signs that the movie is set in apocalyptic post-60s America. That’s clear from the start, as a kindly old mailman delivers exposition about how Mari Collingwood is about to celebrate her 17th birthday, and she’s getting cards from all over the civilized world. Then he adds that Mari’s the prettiest piece he’s ever seen.
Cut to the credits while we watch Mari taking a shower. Things are more old-fashioned inside the family living room. As in the remake, Dad’s a doctor. Mari’s mom is a homemaker, and she’s styling straight out of a Sears fashion catalogue. Dad’s fairly hip, too, with some showy sideburns. They’re still not sure about Mari going out to see BloodLust in concert that night. (The band dismembers live chickens onstage.)
Mari’s not wearing a bra, and her friend Phyllis is kind of wild. Mom’s bemoaning how the love generation has gone wrong. That reminds Dad that he’s got an early birthday present for Mari. It’s a necklace with a peace symbol pendant. His daughter is thrilled.
Now we meet the kind of psychos responsible for the “murder and mayhem” that Mari’s father was reading about in the paper. They’re a better bunch than you get in the remake. There’s leader Krug, psycho sideman Weasel, and bisexual bad girl Sadie. They’re on the road while committing assorted sex crimes. Krug’s grown son Junior is tagging along, but it’s an unhealthy relationship. Krug’s also not happy with Sadie, who’s declaring, “I am my own frigging woman!” She’s been reading magazines while Krug was in jail. She also calls Krug a male chauvinist dog.
Meanwhile, Phyllis has taken Mari out in search of marijuana. “My mother was right,” says Mari, looking around the bad neighborhood. They run into Junior, who lures them into being abducted by the psychos. Meanwhile, Mom and Dad are preparing Mari’s birthday party for the next day. They’re very affectionate and corny with each other.
Dad tries to be understanding when Mari isn’t home the next morning. (“Let her have her fling.”) It takes a while before they decide to call the police. The cops aren’t concerned, either. Hey, it’s the ’70s.
Mari and Phyllis are in the trunk of Krug’s car. The sex-crime gang is driving around and having the kind of conversation that’s become standard in Quentin Tarantino films. Then the car breaks down right outside of the Collingwood house.
It’s a heavily wooded area, so Krug and the gang take this opportunity to torture and rape Mari and Phyllis. This is the grueling part. Other exploitation filmmakers have gone to more extremes, but
The Last House on the Left offers some really shocking scenes—mostly because Mari and Phyllis have become so ordinary and likable. Things end very badly for the girls—even worse than in the remake—despite Mari trying to win over Junior by christening him with the new hippie name of “Willow.”
Then the gang goes over to Mr. & Mrs. Collingwood’s house. They make the mistake of trying to take advantage of the couple’s hospitality while Junior is wearing Mari’s new peace necklace. That’s when the revenge starts—even worse than in the remake (but less gory)—and we learn that Dad isn’t so mod that he doesn’t keep a gun around the house. It’s all fine exploitation from there, and we still don’t get how the filmmakers got away with that Vietnam crap. Maybe we’re too distracted by the Peace Dove poster hanging over Mari’s old bed.
Like we said, the critics of the time were forgiving. Roger Ebert gave the film a rave review. By the end of the ’70s, of course, he’d join Gene Siskel in discussing why slasher films should be banned or boycotted or just never seen. That was probably his clumsy attempt at joining the Reagan Revolution. Ebert would be back to being a big fan of senseless violence in time to praise 1986’s soulless
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. That one didn’t get a release until Reagan was out of the White House.
Make it your own: Last House on the Left writer/director Wes Craven went on to direct
Scream and other films of varying quality; producer Sean S. Cunningham went on to direct (and produce) the first
Friday the 13th. The film’s
first DVD release has plenty of fine extras, including commentary from both. We haven’t listened to all of it, but they never seem to get around to discussing that original Leftist content. We’re pretty sure it’s Cunningham who notes that peace rallies are still a good place to pick up girls. Unfortunately, that DVD edition is out of print and pricey.
This brings us to how you should learn more about the fine actors (and the actress) who play Mari’s tormentors. All of them had amazing careers. The guys provide commentary on the new
The Last House on the Left: Unrated Collectors Edition DVD, but it doesn’t seem to have that Craven/Cunningham commentary. This new version’s probably the better investment.
