The Hot Spot Rating
Death Weekend – (AKA HOUSE BY THE LAKE) (1976)
Cast: Brenda Vaccaro, Don Stroud, Chuck Shamata
Director: William Fruet
Nutshell: ugly exploitation shocker, infamous for being a “Video Nasty”, tries hard to emulate Last House on the Left.
“A brutal and unrelenting thriller.” — contemporary exploitation review
“Disturbing, ugly and undeniably effective.” — retrospective horror criticism
“Brenda Vaccaro gives a ferocious performance.” — cult film review
“One of the grimmest revenge films of the 1970s.” — genre retrospective
“An exploitation film with genuine anger behind it.” — modern criticism
“Savage and deeply unsettling.” — horror review archive
“A relentless descent into terror and vengeance.” — retrospective commentary
“Not easily forgotten.” — cult cinema review
“Tense, vicious and uncompromising.” — exploitation film criticism
“A raw Canadian grindhouse classic.” — Canuxploitation retrospective
Death Weekend was shown in cinemas in the UK upon release but was effectively purged from existence once the Mary Whitehouse crusade against “video nasties” began to take hold. The film earned itself a fairly notorious reputation, which was further enhanced when the British censors withdrew its certificate, officially banning the movie from exhibition in the country.
The movie itself falls squarely into the lineage of Straw Dogs, The Last House on the Left, and I Spit on Your Grave — all still lingering on the banned list at the time, though Death Weekend actually predates I Spit by a year or two. Essentially, it’s a Canadian quickie with a C-grade cast attempting to cash in on the considerable success of Wes Craven’s Last House on the Left.
The film begins with a slimy, super-rich dentist heading off to his country retreat with a buxom beauty, played by Brenda Vaccaro, in tow. The dentist has essentially lured Vaccaro into this country weekend getaway under false pretences — the sole purpose of the trip, like so many before it, being to “enjoy” his latest conquest.
On the way, travelling in their souped-up sports car, the couple encounters a pack of low-life hillbillies who begin harassing them before launching into a high-speed pursuit in their battered excuse for a vehicle. Vaccaro, who happens to be driving, floors the accelerator and leaves the scumbags licking their wounds, their demented male pride thoroughly undermined.
In full Straw Dogs mode, Don Stroud snarls:“Jesus, that broad can drive… That pisses me off!”
A line that perfectly captures the film’s tone.
As the happy couple screech their way through the countryside toward the dentist’s personal “debauchery retreat,” the enraged goons vow revenge and set out to teach the rich city folk some respect. They begin by trashing the dentist’s mansion in a full-blown orgy of mindless violence. Once they are finished with the good doctor, the four degenerates turn their attention toward Vaccaro for the evening’s “fun and games.”
After being assaulted by the resident retard, the inevitable fightback begins, with the tables rapidly turning and the hunted quickly transformed into the hunter.
Vaccaro puts a shard of glass to highly effective use on her rapist before taking on the remaining scum one by one. One creep is lured into a trap and torched alive. Another jerk is swallowed up by a quicksand bog. Stroud himself is eventually run over in a singularly unspectacular and disappointingly tame climax for a film carrying such a notorious reputation.
The movie itself is utterly forgettable, largely devoid of tension, and ultimately plays like a distinctly uninspired Straw Dogs clone. Perhaps the most surprising aspect is that this particular film should ever have garnered such a fearsome reputation in the first place, because the violence on display now appears decidedly tame compared to what modern audiences routinely witness on the big screen.
Undoubtedly, the film is a cheap, derivative exploitationer with little or no artistic merit beyond a fairly decent performance by Brenda Vaccaro. It’s essentially a poor distant cousin of Last House on the Left, though nowhere near as sadistic or violent as the film from which it so obviously draws inspiration.
Though nasty, violent, and decidedly ugly, the film is not remotely shocking and hardly merits the ban that was slapped upon it. Then again, let us remember that James Ferman — head of the British censors for what felt like an eternity — was in charge at the time. This is the very same dolt who banned The Evil Dead, the ten-time Oscar-nominated The Exorcist, and the admittedly awful — but hardly bannable — Child’s Play 3.
Death Weekend remains a sleazy exploitationer utterly unworthy of the towering reputation it earned largely thanks to Mr. Ferman’s efforts. A film as violent as Pulp Fiction can now pass virtually uncut and be watched unflinchingly by every teenager in the land, yet Death Weekend somehow remained trapped on the “nasties” list for years.
Does any of it make sense?
Thankfully, better sense has largely prevailed since then, and most of the original “Video Nasties” have now received uncut video and theatrical releases.
Death Weekend, however, still awaits a truly decent DVD release to this day.
