With her long and lank brown hair, face radiating youth and innocence and a plush body that seemed to be padded with the thinnest, sweetest layer of baby fat, Sandra Cassel personified the nubile hippie chick, tripping through life exuding budding sexuality and tragic vulnerability. In the opening shower sequence of Wes Craven’s cinematic death knell to the free-loving 1960s, Last House on the Left (1972), Sandra is obviously and painfully beyond the protection of soap and steam. Cassel’s Last House demise seems foreordained. She’s too sweet to live. As she runs naked through the woods, her full, defenseless breasts and soft-target ass a-quiver in her haste, you can’t help but wish you could pull her out of the film and take her with you some place nice where her naked innocence would forever survive.