Movie Review: The Last House on the Left

Where genre movies are concerned, there’s nothing like low expectations going in to boost your appreciation coming out.

A remake of 1972’s horror thriller, The Last House on the Left, promised to be a thoroughly dispiriting revisitation of a movie most of us certainly never wanted to see again, something — in the current era of torture porn during which we’ve already had five Saw flicks — on the order of last year’s absolutely reprehensible and worthless The Strangers.

But, happily, that is not the case.

Now, lest we get carried away here, a reminder is in order. THHOTL #2 is still a generic, one-dimensional horror exploitationer. Which means two things right off the bat: one, the quality ceiling isn’t all that high to begin with. And, two, this one sure ain’t fer everybody: if you’re in the target demographic, you know who you are.

On the other hand, if this kind of movie does not fall under your umbrella definition of “entertainment,” please look elsewhere for stimulation no matter how high the recommendation.

The original The Last House on the Left (a misnomer, by the way), surely more of a curiosity item than any kind of classic — even though it was, believe it or not, based on the 1960 Ingmar Bergman film, Virgin Spring, which won the Best Foreign Film Oscar — was a disturbingly graphic and grim cult film from director Wes Craven, essentially launching his career, that lots of folks couldn’t stomach. It trafficked in ruthless, repulsively sadistic savagery on its way to a revenge-fueled climax.

The remake is a somewhat-toned-down horror thriller produced by, among others, the respective producer and director of the original version, Sean S. Cunningham and Wes Craven.

After kidnapping and brutally assaulting two young women, a gang of sociopaths led by a prison escapee (Garret Dillahunt) finds refuge at a remote vacation home, a lakeshore house that, although they don’t know it, belongs to the parents of one of the victims (Sara Paxton).

Monica Potter and Tony Goldwyn plays the victim’s parents — he’s a physician, a fact that figures prominently in the goings-on — who are on holiday at their vacation home when they learn that their houseguests were their daughters’ attackers. They then devise an increasingly gruesome but nonetheless understandable series of revenge tactics.

Greek director Dennis Iliadis (Hardcore), directing his first English-language film from a screenplay by Adam Alleca and Carl Ellsworth, wants his film to be suspenseful and unnerving. And, for the most part, it is. At the very least, he offers us characters on the law-abiding side of the ledger who seem like real people rather than merely horror-flick sacrifical lambs.

So let’s give him credit for maintaining the tone of thick dread nearly all the way through and redeeming the first half with a second half that corrals the audience’s vociferous rooting interest. That is, until he resorts to a what-the-heck ending that more or less betrays what has come before.

On balance, let’s put it this way: Did I have fun watching TLHOTL #2? Not really. But did I appreciate the skills that went into the moviemaking? Yes. Which means the movie is too effective to be dismissed, and qualifies as an upgrade as it replaces my memory of the original.

The Last House on the Left is a gory and exhausting retribution chiller. Let’s hope this is the last version, but let’s also give it its due.