pgsmollen Lots of nonsense is said about this film. Yes its filmed in 'I was there watching style' but its really not very graphic (not that I have any real desire for it to be given its subject matter). Its still 'nasty' but more in its tone and bad acting than anything else. I'd just loved to have heard how Wes pitched this film to anyone prepared to invest in the same!

Leofwine_draca Wes Craven's first film is without a doubt one of the most brutal, intense and shocking movies you'll ever see. Before our eyes a catalogue of atrocities are carried out through the grainy eye of the unblinking camera. To make matters worse, Craven makes us get to know and care about the characters before the violence begins, which of course makes the eventual bloodshed all the more worse. Indeed this film made me queasy while watching, and it's not an easy film to sit through. It might be a good film, yes, but its definitely not enjoyable. Would you want to watch it again? I don't think so.The film's low budget merely adds to the overall gritty feel of it. The only thing out of place is the inappropriate cheerful music which keeps popping up all of the time, we could have done without this. All characters are three-dimensional and understandable, even the psychopaths. Yes, they're psychopaths, but these people could be real, such things really do happen in real life. David Hess went on to carve himself a niche in these type of roles, as to portray a cold-blooded sadist was something he did with frightening realism. Cassel and Grantham are likable and heart-breaking as the subjects of the violent attacks, scenes hard to watch. Everybody in this film puts their heart into it.Craven even experiments with manipulation of the viewer, in the final scenes getting us to cheer on a chainsaw murderer. The film questions violence and the primitive way in which it is a part of human nature. I wouldn't really recommend this film, see it if you have to. One viewing is way more than enough though.

Gregory Mucci During the early 70's, exploitation films began to run the gamut of seedy, dilapidated theaters that were sprawled throughout cities. Featuring an extremely low budget, exploitation films captured an essence of the culture, one that began to emerge after the death of the late 60's summer of love. When The Last House on the Left was introduced to the public, it was advertised with the tagline "to avoid fainting, keep repeating it's only a movie…it's only a movie." What Wes Craven presents to the audience with his first feature length film is a tacky, ultra-violent, and ultimately unnecessary foray into exploitation cinema, yet one that is sickeningly satisfying, helping change the face of cinema forever.Quickly establishing itself as a film with little morals, but with the potential for values, The Last House on the Left opens with the loving and caring family of the Collingwoods, whose house rests with woods on each side. On the eve of their daughter Mari's (Sandra Cassel) 17th birthday, her parents agree to let her attend a concert in the city with her friend Phyllis (Lucy Graham). Attempting to score some weed after the show, Phyllis encounters Junior (Marc Sheffler), the son of newly escaped convict Krug (David Hess), who has holed up in an apartment building along with fellow fugitives Sadie (Jeramie Rain) and Fred "Weasel" Podowski (Fred Lincoln). What follows is exactly what the films tagline wants you to begin repeating to yourself, "it's only a movie…it's only a movie." Produced by Sean S. Cunningham, who would later direct one of the most quintessential slasher films of our time with Friday the 13th, The Last House on the Left is filmed with the exact low budget graininess that other exploitation films of its time are. One defining difference Wes Craven gives it is an immense sense of well being, established by the blossoming friendship of Mari and Phyllis. While I've certainly never discussed my newly developed testicles or how my body has really filled out over the past season with anyone, watching it being discussed by the two establishes innocence, one that only a woman and possibly her parents could truly feel. This innocence, aided by the loving care of Mr. and Mrs. Collingwood builds us up for the inevitable drop that comes with the young women encountering the gang of fugitives.What Wes Craven seems to labor too intensively on amidst the rape, torture, and ultra-violence is the supposed necessity to lighten the mood whenever the camera shifts away from the perversion in the woods. Given the seriousness and gravity of what is laid out in front of us, the film becomes less exploitative than it does tacky with the goofy, Three Stooge like behavior of the bumbling law men, played by Marshall Anker and Martin Kove. Mixed between cuts of oral rape, dismemberment, and shootings is a score, with pieces provided by David Hess himself, that detaches us from what has burrowed deep within our core, coming off like a B.J. Thomas mock.While remaining unnecessary with its representation of violence towards women, its poorly timed comedic cuts, and its misguided musical choice, The Last House on the Left has remained as significant as it did when it first hit low budget cinema in 1972. It's ability to stick with you long after the credits have rolled is a true testament to the strength and passion of its creators, playing as a true labor of love rather than a simple shock piece. What Wes Craven and Sean S. Cunningham have provided stands not only as a staple in exploitation cinema, but as a milestone in horror, paving the way for years of gore, screams, and macabre.

Scott LeBrun Many years before they would both begin slasher franchises that would compete with each other, debuting filmmaker Wes Craven and producer Sean S. Cunningham collaborated on this ugly but compelling bit of cinema. The filmmaking is undeniably crude, but the subject matter is effectively upsetting. "The Last House on the Left" offers up the kind of experience that one doesn't easily shake, and may engender very personal love-it-or-loathe-it reactions. The performances aren't slick and polished, but they're still right on the money. One feels for the victims and feels the need for a shower just watching our Manson Family-type antagonists.Two teenage girls, Mari (Sandra Peabody), and Phyllis (Lucy Grantham), are on their way to a rock concert when they make the impulsive - and fatal - decision to try to score some grass. This brings them into contact with prison escapee Krug Stillo (David Hess) and his grimy associates, Fred 'Weasel' Podowski (Fred J. Lincoln), Sadie (Jeramie Rain), and Krugs' illegitimate, junkie son Junior Stillo (Marc Sheffler). This gang of lowlifes puts the girls through a nightmare of torture and degradation, but their comeuppance comes from an appropriate source due to an incredible coincidence.An acknowledged reworking of Ingmar Bergmans' "The Virgin Spring", this features some very potent violence and gore. For our victims, it plays like a bad dream that seems to have no end. To provide us with some respite from the horror, Craven creates a film that is unfortunately mixed tonally. The comedy relief from incompetent cops Marshall Anker and Martin Kove is simply too silly. Also, Hess's score is a little too upbeat for a chase scene that should be more harrowing.Peabody and Grantham are appealing, even if their characters don't act too sensibly. It's also not hard to feel bad for Junior, who is just pathetic. Richard Towers and Cynthia Carr are okay as Maris' parents, but the show entirely belongs to the villains. Hess in particular proves to have a real presence, and a real knack for playing the most degenerate character imaginable.There's one very memorable gag involving Carr and Lincoln, and a delicious final fight between sadist and avenger.Future director Steve Miner was an assistant editor, production assistant, and bit player (as one of the hippies taunting the cops).Seven out of 10.