In 1993, director John Carpenter collaborated with television network Showtime on an anthology of horror tales meant to lead into a regular series similar to what HBO was going strong on with its Tales from the Crypt.  Sadly, though three stories were completed, the network decided not to proceed, so they compiled them into one film released as a mini-event: Body Bags.  It exists today more as an interesting curiosity to ponder if the two biggest cable networks at the time could have supported similar shows, and for most, it is a one-and-done deal. 

For me, however, there is one segment I’ve returned to several times: “The Gas Station,” the first chapter of the night.  Directed by Carpenter, it follows a new overnight cashier at a remote filling station terrorized by a killer.  It’s short, it’s slick, it’s fun.  I’m not surprised at all, seeing that it’s from the man who created Halloween and wrote its even more stalk and slash sequel, Halloween II.  While watching Last Straw, I thought about Body Bags, Carpenter, and stories of vulnerable women terrorized in remote spaces.  This small-town horror-thriller takes place in a roadside diner’s tense, isolated atmosphere during a graveyard shift and sets up the promise of terror. But does it deliver?

The 81-minute suspenser follows Nancy Osborn (Jessica Belkin, Wish I Was Here), a young waitress working the graveyard shift at her father’s (Jeremy Sisto, Frozen II) small diner on an isolated small-town strip of highway.  Preoccupied with feelings of needing to escape a dead-end life with few prospects of happiness, Nancy is young and already aloof to any kindness shown.  Left in charge for the evening, she butts heads with a temperamental line-order cook (Taylor Kowalski, MaXXXine), sending him and anyone loyal to him packing. Aside from the altercation, she’s prepared for an uneventful night on her own when masked assailants trap her inside, turning the restaurant into a battleground and bloody fight for survival.

The initial setup—small-town innocence shattered by brutal violence—creates plenty of tension, evoking classics like The Strangers and a bit of Don’t Breathe in its final act. But while Last Straw teases a high-stakes cat-and-mouse game (and has a helluva good poster), the film fails to sustain its early momentum, leading to a lukewarm stew of other, better films, that simmers without ever fully boiling over.

Belkin does her best with the material she’s given, and she convincingly conveys someone resilient, resourceful, and determined without making Nancy obnoxious in the process. Injecting moments of raw emotion into her performance, Belkin gets a decent amount of mileage from the fear and defiance she puts forth as she fights for survival.  However, the script, penned by Taylor Sardoni, is disappointingly thin with uninspired dialogue that fails to provide Belkin with the depth her character needs to transcend the “final girl” trope.

As the brooding cook that Nancy dismisses early on, Kowalski adds a layer of mystery to Jake by offering murky motives for his presence at the diner in the first place. His scenes with Belkin have some crackle to them, allowing the tension to rise even while the plot is losing steam, but there’s so little character to be developed that it stops any actual fire from breaking out.  As Nancy’s well-meaning but stern father, Sisto, once known for playing characters like Kowalski’s Jake, has now graduated to fatherly roles. While his performance has the reliability of a seasoned actor, the script gives him little to do beyond the occasional gruff warning.

One of the film’s most problematic elements is not the flimsy material or banal execution from director Alan Scott Neal but the presentation of Petey, Jake’s developmentally delayed brother, played by Christopher M. Lopes.  There’s a jarring lack of sensitivity with the handling of this character, something that feels out of place in 2024 and raises questions about the filmmaker’s intent.  Despite the proficient work Lopes is offering on screen, the direction of the script with his character is a severe miscalculation from the producers that leaves a sickly sour taste in what would have otherwise been a misfired thriller.

Making his feature debut, Neal has all the ingredients for a nail-biting thriller but never manages to bring them to a satisfying boil.  The lack of atmosphere from Neal and cinematographer Andrey Nikolaev is especially disappointing given the eerie potential of the location, which should have provided an ideal backdrop for claustrophobic, bone-jangling suspense.  At less than 90 minutes, the film should fly by. However, Nathan Whiteside’s editing allows the film to frequently go slack and feel longer than it actually is. 

While horror enthusiasts might find a few moments to appreciate the random thrills peppered throughout, Last Straw ultimately leaves viewers hungry for a more substantial cinematic scare. It serves up genre formula as a blue plate special, but the portion is so small that it’s hardly worth the effort to chow down on it.  The entire experience is a missed opportunity and is similar to one of those paper straws you now get at most restaurants—serviceable but ultimately useless. If you’re looking for a late-night scare, this one will leave your stomach growling.