Frank Perry’s follow-up to The Swimmer swaps suburban swimming pools for New York beaches — same climate, same dread. Where Burt Lancaster drifted through other people’s gardens in a mid-life fog, here teenagers discover that cruelty is a skill you can teach yourself, starting with a seagull and working upward.
Last Summer is a slow burn that earns every degree of its escalation. The 1960s sexual revolution handed teenagers all the freedom and none of the maps, and Perry exploits that gap without mercy. Catherine Burns is extraordinary — nervy, exposed, doing more with hesitation than most actors manage with a full speech. Barbara Hershey, Richard Thomas and Bruce Davison are just as sharp, and just as caught up in the rot.
The Lord of the Flies comparison is sitting there waving, but what stays with you is something quieter and nastier: the creeping suspicion that this was always where the summer was heading.