The Last House On The Left

Saturday 13th June 2009, 2:45PM BST.

In 1972, writer-director Wes Craven – unknown at the time – shocked audiences with his grisly rape revenge thriller, The Last House On The Left.

Very much a product of its era, the film tackled controversial subject matter on a miniscule budget and reflected the prevailing anti-authoritarian mood in a country bitterly divided over Vietnam.

If audiences were stunned by Craven’s vision, censors were horrified, banning the film in the UK for many years – it finally became available on video in its uncut form in March 2008.

For the film-maker, this incendiary debut sparked a glorious and highly-lucrative career, awash with seminal moments such as The Hills Have Eyes, A Nightmare On Elm Street, Scream and their sequels.

The 21st-century remake of Craven’s notorious vision, directed by Dennis Iliadis, trails wearily in the footsteps of updated versions of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Halloween and Friday The 13th.

It is a pointless revisit to a landmark in modern cinema, spruced up with impressive make-up and special effects as two parents declare war on the thugs who brutalise their daughter.

Mari Collingwood (Sara Paxton) and her friend Paige (Martha MacIsaac) flirt with shy teenager Justin (Spencer Treat Clark), who promises the girls a share of his drugs stash if they follow him back to his motel.

The chilled-out mood is shattered when the friends are attacked by Justin’s father, escaped criminal Krug (Garret Dillahunt), and his cohorts: brother Francis (Aaron Paul) and girlfriend Sadie (Riki Lindhome).

Paige is stabbed to death and Mari is raped and left floating in the river.

Miraculously, Mari manages to paddle home to her parents John (Tony Goldwyn) and Emma (Monica Potter) in the middle of a storm.

John, who is a doctor, hurriedly stabilises his daughter’s condition, then he and Emma realise the people sheltering in the guesthouse are Krug, Francis, Sadie and Justin.

‘We have to be ready for anything.

We have to be ready to do anything,’ John tells his terrified wife as they arm themselves with a kitchen knife and fireside poker.

Fake blood runs over in Iliadis’s re-imagining of The Last House On The Left, including a very gory moment with a sink waste-disposal system, which is where, arguably, the film belongs as well.

The rape sequence is especially harrowing, justifying the 18 certificate for its brutality.

It is possibly the only point in the film where the director and his screenwriters, Adam Alleca and Carl Ellsworth, exercise restraint.

They lose the flimsy plot entirely for the final showdown, virtually destroying John and Emma’s home during a fistfight between the father and a shirtless, snarling Krug.

Performances run the gamut of pain, fear and rage without any tangible depth, while Iliadis chooses to bleach the colour palette to accentuate the cold emotions of the characters.

He pulls no punches as Mari’s parents seek their revenge.

Krug’s horrific fate is total overkill.