Tuesday, November 26, 2024

LET’S GET PHYSICAL: LAST HOUSE ON DEAD END STREET (1977) ***


FORMAT:  BLU-RAY (REWATCH)

ORIGINAL REVIEW:

(As posted on October 4th, 2011)

This movie resembles something that clawed its way out of Satan’s butthole; and I mean that in the best way possible. Every frame of the film looks like the final retinal image of a dying deranged lunatic. If that isn’t the highest form of praise I can bestow on a movie; I don’t know what is.

Some porno backers are tired of the usual old skinflicks so they hire Terry Hawkins (writer/director Roger Watkins) to make some new product. They don’t count on him being a total nutjob. Terry takes his work very seriously and he along with his loyal cast and crew, makes some disgusting snuff films in which they wear cheap dime store masks and slaughter the producers (and their wives) on camera.

So in a way; it’s kinda like Cecil B. Demented Meets The Strangers.

The first 40 minutes of The Last House on Dead End Street are sloppy, amateurish, and more than a little boring. But the final half hour of the film where all the snuffing happens is fucked up and then some. The gore highlight comes when Terry and his crew tie a chick down, cut off her legs, and rip every organ imaginable out of her body. We also get an outrageous scene where a chick is put in blackface and whipped at a party too. But nothing can prepare you for the scene where a gal unzips her jeans and pulls out a deer hoof and makes some poor bastard suck it like Sasha Grey.

Folks, if this scene doesn’t make you want to take a shower directly afterwards, nothing will.

Watkins is pretty awesome in this movie. He kinda looks like a cross between Bill Hader and Marky Ramone and gives a truly awesome performance. My favorite scene of his was when he stomped his producer to death while repeatedly screaming, “I’m directing this fucking movie!”

If ever there was a movie about a misunderstood artist struggling to find balance between art and commerce, it’s this one.

As a director, Watkins does a fine job too. He basically makes the whole flick look like an honest to God snuff film; which is a pretty impressive feat. It’s a shame he never directed another horror film because if The Last House on Dead End Street was any indication; he could’ve been one of the greats.

AKA: The Cuckoo Clocks of Hell. AKA: The Fun House.

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