Following a deadly bank robbery, three robbers are told by their superiors to hide out and decide to go on the lam in a desolate beachside area. Soon they find refuge at a house where several young girls and their chaperone, Cristina (Bolkan), are busy rehearsing in surreal animal outfits for a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream at an upcoming Shakespeare festival. Soon the females are all held captive both in the house and outside on the beach by the thugs, including leader and professed non-killer Aldo (Lovelock), sex-crazed Walter (Andreini), and shirt-allergic Nino (Cedrati). During a bout of verbal taunting, the men discover that Cristina is actually a nun and derive no end of amusement from provoking her, while the girls are subjected to various ordeals culminating in a bizarre sexual assault with Nino dressed in women's make-up. Through various flashbacks and stories the truth about the major players comes to light, and Cristina can only cling on to her holy teachings for so long
Though the plot suggests standard exploitation fare, Last House rises above the norm primarily thanks to the committed performances by Bolkan and Lovelack (with the latter even warbling a rock tune early on entitled "Place for the Landing"), stylish direction by Franco Prosperi (prior to his outrageous animals-amuck masterpiece, Wild Beasts), and a killer score by Roberto Pregadio, featuring appropriately lush vocals by the omnipresent Edda Dell'Orso. The scope photography makes excellent use of the limited locations, often drenching scenes in unearthly blues, and despite the gritty tone of the subject matter, the film manages to evoke its most shocking moments through implication rather than explicit thrills. There are only a few flashes of nudity throughout, and the one prolonged rape sequence is rendered almost entirely in the dark, focusing on the participants' faces in slow motion to create a haunting effect. Of course, the film does slide into the gutter occasionally, mainly with its obvious delight in placing Bolkan in a nun's habit just so she can be manhandled and persecuted at knifepoint, which is presumably enough justification for her gun-toting revenge. Despite the Last House connection, in the end both the plot and treatment more closely resemble the American girls-in-captivity favorite Cheerleaders' Wild Weekend, which would make a great double feature.
Following up on the Sazuma release, the American DVD premiere from Severin is virtually identical with the same impressive transfer and Ray Lovelock featurette, as well as the German and Italian trailers. The only difference is that it drops the Italian and German language tracks, the photo gallery, and the Easter Egg (as well as the soundtrack CD, alas), but the much lower price tag (and its NTSC availability) might make it a more attractive purchase. Either way, it's well worth hunting down and makes a nice reminder of how politically incorrect international films used to be.
Severin (US R1 NTSC), Sazuma (Austria R2 PAL) / WS (2.35:1) (16:9)
After the international success of the rape-revenge shocker Last House on the Left, distributors were quick to cash in with plenty of European imports whose connection to the Wes Craven film ranged from uncomfortably close (such as a virtual remake, Night Train Muders) to utterly laughable 
(Mario Bava's Bay of Blood, widely retitled as Last House on the Left Part II). One of the weirdest and latest offspring of this craze, Last House on the Beach (originally titled La Settima Donna, or "The Seventh Woman" in Italy) managed to inject the scenario with a fresh twist by -- get this -- mixing in some nunsploitation for good measure. Weird, artsy, unpleasant, and compelling at the same time, it's a fascinating attempt to meld artistry with trash that still hasn't received its due.
before eventually exploding in a frenzy of righteous violence.
Though it popped up in an English-language incarnation of varying lengths under its initial export title as well as Terror, Prosperi's film has suffered mightily over the years due to brutal pan-and-scan transfers that renedered it completely incoherent. A widescreen Japanese DVD eventually appeared, but the winner in the home video market by far is the essential release by Sazuma, presented in a beautiful uncut anamorphic transfer. The packaging only lists audio options in Italian and German, but the English is actually on there as well; Lovelock and some of the supporting performers clearly performed in English, while Bolkan mostly spoke Italian. Both are legitimate, so it's really your call as to which of the two you'd prefer (i.e., the classier Italian track, or the juicy '70s English track with plenty of the usual suspects from the dubbing community). Subtitles are available in Italian or German. The front of the package credits the film under its original Italian title as well as its German one (Verflucht zum Toten), so most dealers may list it that way. Also included on the disc is a lengthy featurette, "Holy Beauty vs. the Evil Beasts," which features Lovelock talking about his career (with some anecdotes carried over from his earlier DVD interviews) as well as his memories of working on the film and his co-stars. He also explains how he got his name despite being Italian, which is an interesting story by itself. Also included as the German and Italian theatrical trailers, the alternate German openining credits, a photo gallery, a brief but informative liner notes by Christian Kessler entitled "Of Nuns and Jackals," and a very funny karaoke-style Easter Egg that won't be spoiled here. However, the coolest extra by far is a second disc containing the entire CD soundtrack in beautiful, immaculate stereo; Pregadio's score has never been released before in any form (and yes, that song is included as well), so this wonderful bonus is almost worth the entire price by itself.
