Barbara
(Robin Strasser) is madly in love with David (Arthur Roberts). Her rich father (John Beal) doesn’t want her
to marry David, but she does so against his wishes. On their wedding day, Barbara catches David in
the arms of his ex-girlfriend (Iva Jean Saraceni). She stabs him with a pair of scissors,
destroys the wedding cake, and takes off. Barbara’s father insists David not divorce her
(you know, that whole “for better or for worse” thing), but after her disappearance
he grows restless. He shacks up with his
old girlfriend and soon, the two begin receiving threatening phone calls and
having weird dreams where the cackling bride endlessly torments them.
The
first twenty minutes of Last House on Massacre Street (which, let’s face it, is
one of the coolest titles ever) would make a great contained short film. It stands on its own as a nifty piece of
exploitation filmmaking with a potent set-up and an even better punchline. What’s surprising is that director Jean-Marie
Pelisse (who unfortunately never made another movie) deftly maintains the same
level of atmosphere throughout. Most
directors would run out of gas after the spectacular first act. Pelisse is somehow able to keep the suspense
brewing while the film spins off into wilder, weirder directions.
The
third act contains a twist that veers into the realm of the supernatural. Now, a lot of films wouldn’t have been able to
survive this sort of sudden turn. Incredibly
enough, this one defies the odds and manages to get even better as it goes
along. Last House on Massacre Street is
the rare flick that actually lives up to its junky exploitation title. It’s an eerie and effective little chiller I won’t
soon forget, and one that deserves to be better known.
AKA: The Bride.
AKA: The House That Cried
Murder. AKA: No Way Out.
AKA: Scream.
You
can find Last House on Massacre Street streaming on Prime for free here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07C353T8K?ref_=imdbref_tt_wbr_piv&tag=imdbtag_tt_wbr_piv-20
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