Review by Keri O’Shea
When a legendary genre film star passes away, fans often take that as an opportunity to revisit their most compelling work. It’s a mark of respect. It reminds us of how we came to know that name in the first place. Well, as much as this is often true, in my case, this was my first-ever viewing of The House on the Edge of the Park: not only had I waited a long time to see this movie, but I was coming to it under poignant circumstances which I know you’ll all understand. With the inimitable Mr. Hess introducing the film and featuring heavily in this DVD release’s extras, it was hard not to see this as a swansong release of sorts – but, what a swansong. David Hess, you excelled at your job. You will be missed. 
Hess excelled at what he did because he embodied menace so well. This is exactly what Annie summed up in her eulogy to Hess: the discrepancy between the nice guy she knew and that terrifying presence on-screen is quite something. In keeping with this, The House on the Edge of the Park is not a friendly work. It starts nasty, and it stays nasty, albeit without being a straightforward story of bad guys wreaking havoc. The film works so well due to its ambiguities. Immoral car mechanic Alex (Hess) knows how to have a good time, and he will have himself a good time utterly at the expense of his fellow man (or more likely, woman), treating them as collateral – whilst his best friend, the mentally-challenged Ricky (Giovanni Lombardo Radice) is always there for him, although he lacks the wicked sense of purpose of the more dominant of the two. When they get held up on their way to a night out by a late-night repair job, for a couple of moneyed people on their way to a house party on the right side of the tracks, they decide to go along. The rich pair are happy enough with this, and why? It’s because Alex is charming, charismatic, plausible – like a lot of the best crazies – whilst his friend Ricky is obviously harmless. But, wait – is there more to it than that? The idle rich they meet seem to treat them like a novelty act, encouraging Ricky to strip for their amusement, and teasing them both with the promise of sex. Who is exploiting who here? When a thwarted Alex suspects that their hosts are cheating Ricky at poker, tensions soon escalate. It’s time to shift the power balance, and Alex sees to that in a series of ways more psychologically gruelling than grisly – not that they’re any the weaker for that. Far from it.
Let’s make one thing very clear: this entire movie is underpinned by sex – typically sleazy, forced, thwarted, or dysfunctional in some way. Rape, a standard exploitation motif which is used so much less frequently these days, is a common occurrence throughout, and the juxtaposition of sex with fear and violence originally sent the BBFC (British Board of Film Classification) into banning meltdown because the organisation felt that blurring sex and violence on-screen could blur them off-screen. Ack. It’s a question dealt with in detail in the extras on this release (see below) but, suffice to say, consensual sex is rare in The House on the Edge of the Park, and perhaps questionably so even then. Nudity is full and frequent accordingly, although for all the hot air about conflating sex with violence, bloody violence is actually rather low in the mix. This film works far more by intimidation. That’s where Hess comes in. Even without the revelatory first scenes which establish Hess as a Bad Man, I think I would have felt the same unease I did throughout the movie. I felt lots of things throughout, but anxiety was one of the strongest emotions, and I was definitely always waiting for something terrible to happen, regardless of how benign things appeared to be (at least on the surface). Hess exudes the sort of gravity from which you cannot avert your gaze. 
One of the other things I felt – and something I initially felt uncomfortable with, in light of what actually happens in the film – was sympathy for the devil. It was difficult not to empathise with Alex, just as it was difficult not to empathise with another Alex from a certain movie called A Clockwork Orange. Neither of these are straightforward boogeymen. Hess’s character is brutal, but there’s a sort of joy to him, too. Thanks to the ambiguous behaviour of the party hosts, it’s impossible not to see that some of his behaviour is provoked (if not therefore justified). Ricky, also, can be cruel, but I was never unequivocally sure how much of that he was responsible for – either because of his obvious mental difficulties, or his relationship to Alex. In fact, if any character is truly brutalised here then to my mind it’s Ricky: certain scenes involving a certain young woman called Cindy might indeed be cruel, but Ricky is mistreated throughout and by everyone. The rich householders regard both guests as lesser beings, though, and the class elements of this film are hard to miss. Alex is switched on enough to see what’s going on in that respect, and happy to deliver some not-so subtle reminders to the “rich assholes” that he and Ricky now call the shots. Or do they? Can they? There’s that ambiguity again, as well as another reason you might empathise with the ‘villains’ of the piece.
Strong performances from all the cast, Deodato’s skilled filming and the mother of all incongruous soundtracks ( you will be singing ‘Sweetly, O Sweetly’ afterwards) help to make The House on the Edge of the Park what it is: pure exploitation gold, unafraid to plumb the depths of the human condition and layer outrage upon outrage for its viewers. It’s taken me this long to see it; I will definitely be watching this again.
This Shameless DVD is of very high quality, with bright colours, sharp definition and good audio, plus a host of extras. One of these is a twenty-minute interview segment featuring Hess and Deodato discussing the film, with some interesting thoughts about theme, morality, and the difference between filming in Europe and the US. (This is no puff piece, either, and both men talk openly about the personal differences they’d had during filming). Then there’s an extensive extra – not originally intended for release – featuring the patron saint of the British anti-censorship movement, Professor Martin Barker, speaking at the CineExcess festival about the types of data and analysis used to justify extensive cuts and bans. There’s then a right to reply for the BBFC; it’s a fairly academic extra, but interesting and relevant, especially now that the BBFC seem to be gearing up for another fight with horror audiences. In a separate segment, David Hess discusses the cuts made to The House on the Edge of the Park, before we’re shown a list of those cuts. The film’s theatrical trailer is also present on the disc. All in all this is an exhaustive, well put together release.
Shameless release The House on the Edge of the Park to DVD from 31st October.