1958. A quiet small town. Sensitive fifteen year old Meg Loughlin (a disarmingly sweet performance by Blythe Auffarth) and her crippled younger sister Susan (the excellent Madeline Taylor) are two orphaned girls who are taken care of by their stern and unhinged Aunt Ruth Chandler (superbly played with formidable steely grit by Blanche Baker) following the death of both their parents in a car accident. When Meg stands up to Ruth's harsh treatment of both herself and Susan, Ruth has her tied up in the basement and encourages a handful of local kids who include her own three sons and nice guy David Moran (a likable performance by Daniel Manche) to inflect all sorts of vicious abuse and torture on poor Meg. Director Gregory M. Wilson, working from an unsparingly grim and hard-hitting script by Daniel Farrands and Philip Nutman, offers a powerfully unsettling and provocative meditation on the destruction of innocence, the depraved wickedness lurking just underneath suburbia's well-manicured surface, the casual sadism of adolescence, and the horrors of strict discipline and rigid morality gone dangerously around the bend. Moreover, Wilson shows admirable restraint and suggests more than shows the various atrocities committed in the picture. It's this latter element of commendable tact and taste which gives this movie its extra unnerving edge. The uniformly terrific acting rates as another major asset: Baker delivers a positively chilling portrayal of serene evil as Ruth, Auffarth is both brave and heart-breaking as the unfortunate Meg, Moran likewise impresses as David, plus there are sound supporting contributions from Graham Patrick Martin as the mean Willie Chandler Jr., Catherine Mary Stewart as David's cheery mom, Grant Shaw as David's easygoing dad, and William Atherton as the regretful grown-up David. William M. Miller's fluid, sparkling cinematography, Ryan Shore's delicately melodic score, the nonexploitative and matter-of-fact handling of the unpleasant subject matter, and the frightening plausibility of the whole story further enhance the considerable jolting impact and potency of this profoundly disturbing and gut-wrenching descent into the cinematic abyss.

Probably one of the most nihilistic 'torture porn' movies out there, THE GIRL NEXT DOOR is made all the worse by the fact that it's based on a true story. It's the deeply disturbing account of a sadistic woman and the feral brood she raises to torture, rape and eventually kill an innocent young girl who comes into her care. The film is convincingly acted throughout, but it's the kind of picture that I hate watching, because I see no reason for such relentless sadism. There's no vindication here, no suspense, just one depraved scene piled on another until the ending eventually, thankfully arrives.

In the summer 1958, David Moran befriends Meg Loughlin who had just moved in next door. She and her crippled sister Susan from NYC lost their parents in the car accident. They are forced to live with their disturbed aunt Ruth Chandler (Blanche Baker) and her three sons. Ruth belittles the girls teaching her sons to abuse Meg. Soon the abuse turns to torture and rape as Ruth brings in the neighborhood kids. David tries to help Meg but he is a powerless boy.

The story is beyond disturbing. It is more disturbing than even the worst torture porn generated by Hollywood. It is the use of children that is the most disturbing. The run-of-the-mill torture horror is something manufactured. It gets a scare and possibly a laugh. This movie disturbs the audience to their core. That's before I realize that it has a real life counterpart. The Sylvia Likens story sounds even worst. The pregnant daughter sounds just as scary as the mother. The movie does struggle to depict the torture in any acceptable way which is a tough proposition. Director Gregory Wilson doesn't bring much in terms of style. The lead kid is quite good but I'm not sure how any of the kids dealt with filming the torture.