The Last House on Dead End Street (1977)


After being released from prison, a dejected criminal and low level pornographer named Terry Hawkins sets out to document the wretched world around him. He gets together a gang of low-life psychopaths and decides to punish society by making snuff films.

"Last House on Dead End Street" is an experience. “Experience” is the key word to remember if you are to fully appreciate this disturbing and truly unique piece of underground low-budget filmmaking as this is what the movie simply is - a cold experience in atmospheric dread. It is a trippy migraine-inducing mind fuck in its avant-garde displays of inhumane cruelty that is at times utterly repugnant and at others immensely nauseating. The production values are amateurish, there is little in the way of traditional cinematic narrative structure, there is no underlying message for you to decipher and it is not made to entertain. All this actually works to the film’s advantage though as it exists as a visually grainy experimental art-house work striving purely to bombard your senses with shockingly raw imagery of sadistic murder. (Excerpt from the Cinematic Shocks review)

Roger Watkins (star and creator of the film) said that only $800 was spent on production while the rest of the money he acquired for the budget he blew on his then crystal meth habit. At the time of the film’s release in 1977, Watkins didn't even know it was showing. 


The original title of the movie was "The Cuckoo Clocks of Hell". It was also released under the titles "The Fun House" and "At the Hour of Our Death".