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David DeFalco's Chaos is, for the most part, a plot-point-for-plot-point remake of Wes Craven's Last House on the Left, and even mimics the earlier film in its promotional materials. ("It's only a movie," etc.) So from its very conception, it was a bad idea. Last House is a product of its own turbulent times. The uniquely gut-wrenching power of Craven's film is dependent, to a large degree, on the audience's inability to predict what might happen next. As was the case with a good number of the classic 1970s low-budget horror films, people had no idea who the filmmaker was, or how far the film was going to go. The film is crudely shot on 16 mm, and watching it for the first time, one suspects that a madman might have made it. With Chaos, any horror aficionado (in other words, the film's potential core audience) will know from the start the fate of these doomed girls, and their captors, so the element of suspense, and the sense of irony inherent in the film's major plot turn are missing. In addition, the queasiest moments in Last House have an emotional impact that Chaos lacks. Chaos contains genuinely nauseating scenes of sexual torture, and a lot of screaming, making it an exceptionally unpleasant experience to sit through. The film is passably acted, despite the fact that Kevin Gage, who plays the eponymous psychopath, often seems no more genuinely threatening than a posturing pro wrestler. Despite the director's specious claims for the film's value as a cautionary tale (one can hope he's joking) and a halfhearted pass at social relevance (one of the girls is biracial, and her ethnicity is discussed at some length), there is no compelling reason to see Chaos, beyond the worst sort of prurient interest.