The post you are about to read is a reflection of the horror film that defined a generation in 1974. The tribulations the crew and actors went through burning Texas afternoon that nevertheless gave us a classic. But, for those that lived very very long lives, they could not have expected, nor would they have wished to see, as much as the mad and macabre piece of crap cash-in sequel trash that followed. The film that they did make, however, became a defining one in the annals of American horror movie history--The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
We've talked about Night of the Living Dead, the film that arguably segued the way from old horror to the new. Now we'll talk about the one that cemented the current era of gory and uncompromised violence, ambiguous endings, and chilling commentaries on the excesses of society. It's a modern masterpiece, and the one that gave us a horror icon that predates Michael Myers, Freddy, Jason, and the Alien...
Hooper's inspiration was, like a lot of horror filmmakers around them like Carpenter, the 1950s murderer Ed Gein, known for his sickening mutilations. All of the subsequent films inspired by him changed a lot of the details, but kept the brutality that surrounded them. In the fifties, it may not have been kosher to discuss such incidents in the forefront, but in the early seventies, such niceties were ever irrelevant. Vietnam, oil shortages, Watergate, and new mind-numbing mass media changed the tone of society, and movies went along with it.
The film was made on a light budget and cast mostly unknowns, and was shot in the actual wilderness of Texas, in sweltering summer heat. To dress up the abattoir-like interior of the house where a lot of the film takes place, actual animal blood was used, creating a stench to go with the blistering sun. This pushed the actors and crew to their limits, and despite their suffering, an authentic atmosphere of barely contained insanity was created. At the very end, the 'dance' of the killer Leatherface was the actor, Gunner Hansen, trying to scare Hooper for all the torment he had gone through by flailing the chainsaw through the air.
Despite what the title might conjure, it's not really that bloody a movie for the most part; but an atmosphere of spilt guts permeates it nevertheless. A shut-down slaughterhouse is seen and plays a role in the backstory of the mad family within, and subliminal sounds of saws, bovine screaming, and other such meat production foley runs under the main soundtrack. Leatherface's family runs their house like such a place, except for humans, so with all this, I wouldn't be surprised if this film inspired many to vegetarianism.
The story is simple but well-executed: a group of teenagers take the wrong turn in the Texan countryside after meeting a crazed self-mutilating hitchhiker, blunder into a farmhouse, and you can probably figure out the rest. The raw style of filmmaking gives it a nice sense of authenticity, and as the movie goes on, you can feel the (perhaps slightly genuine) mental breakdowns going on. To me, the 'dinner' scene with the crazed cannibal family is an iconic horror movie sequence in the same way as Frankenstein rising from the slab or the alien birthing from John Hurt. Some modern audiences might chuckle at the heroine's extended chase scene from Leatherface, but as the mocking murderers revel in their captive's screaming and pleas for mercy, any giggles die down, as I noticed in my recent screening.
As such, even 45 years later, the Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a film oft imitated, but rarely duplicated. It's short, barely eighty minutes long, but uses that time and pacing to full efficiency. There's no overindulgence, no excess, just gets straight to the point with bringing forward a blunt weapon into the zeitgeist of the time that horrified critics and the public then. But what it started was a new generation of horror ascendant.
Then they decided to screw it all up!
The first sequel was in 1986, also by Hooper, and goes in a totally opposite direction, basically being a black comedy. The goofiness is established right off the bat with over-the-top characters, including new cannibal family members like a demented hippie. Dennis Hopper is also in it, and spends the climax in duelling a pair of chainsaws against Leatherface. Yeah, it's really silly, but you can enjoy it in a goofy way. But it was downhill further from there; we had a slew of sequels that were actually reboots, a redundant 2000s remake produced by Michael Bay of all people, prequels to the remake, sequels to reboots, another prequel recently that's also a reboot and guuuuuuuhhhhhh. The only ones worth even a beer-fuelled watch are the second one and I guess the bits with Ken Foree in part 3 (which is actually a loose remake). Confused yet? I don't blame you, but fortunately, you only have two at most films to bother with out of all this.
So stick to the first one, chainsaw the rest, and enjoy the macabre fun. Of course, Hooper didn't rest on his laurels, and over a decade later, bought a certainly...unique masterpiece to the genre, which we'll get to very soon!
Hooper's inspiration was, like a lot of horror filmmakers around them like Carpenter, the 1950s murderer Ed Gein, known for his sickening mutilations. All of the subsequent films inspired by him changed a lot of the details, but kept the brutality that surrounded them. In the fifties, it may not have been kosher to discuss such incidents in the forefront, but in the early seventies, such niceties were ever irrelevant. Vietnam, oil shortages, Watergate, and new mind-numbing mass media changed the tone of society, and movies went along with it.
The film was made on a light budget and cast mostly unknowns, and was shot in the actual wilderness of Texas, in sweltering summer heat. To dress up the abattoir-like interior of the house where a lot of the film takes place, actual animal blood was used, creating a stench to go with the blistering sun. This pushed the actors and crew to their limits, and despite their suffering, an authentic atmosphere of barely contained insanity was created. At the very end, the 'dance' of the killer Leatherface was the actor, Gunner Hansen, trying to scare Hooper for all the torment he had gone through by flailing the chainsaw through the air.
Despite what the title might conjure, it's not really that bloody a movie for the most part; but an atmosphere of spilt guts permeates it nevertheless. A shut-down slaughterhouse is seen and plays a role in the backstory of the mad family within, and subliminal sounds of saws, bovine screaming, and other such meat production foley runs under the main soundtrack. Leatherface's family runs their house like such a place, except for humans, so with all this, I wouldn't be surprised if this film inspired many to vegetarianism.
The story is simple but well-executed: a group of teenagers take the wrong turn in the Texan countryside after meeting a crazed self-mutilating hitchhiker, blunder into a farmhouse, and you can probably figure out the rest. The raw style of filmmaking gives it a nice sense of authenticity, and as the movie goes on, you can feel the (perhaps slightly genuine) mental breakdowns going on. To me, the 'dinner' scene with the crazed cannibal family is an iconic horror movie sequence in the same way as Frankenstein rising from the slab or the alien birthing from John Hurt. Some modern audiences might chuckle at the heroine's extended chase scene from Leatherface, but as the mocking murderers revel in their captive's screaming and pleas for mercy, any giggles die down, as I noticed in my recent screening.
As such, even 45 years later, the Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a film oft imitated, but rarely duplicated. It's short, barely eighty minutes long, but uses that time and pacing to full efficiency. There's no overindulgence, no excess, just gets straight to the point with bringing forward a blunt weapon into the zeitgeist of the time that horrified critics and the public then. But what it started was a new generation of horror ascendant.
Then they decided to screw it all up!
The first sequel was in 1986, also by Hooper, and goes in a totally opposite direction, basically being a black comedy. The goofiness is established right off the bat with over-the-top characters, including new cannibal family members like a demented hippie. Dennis Hopper is also in it, and spends the climax in duelling a pair of chainsaws against Leatherface. Yeah, it's really silly, but you can enjoy it in a goofy way. But it was downhill further from there; we had a slew of sequels that were actually reboots, a redundant 2000s remake produced by Michael Bay of all people, prequels to the remake, sequels to reboots, another prequel recently that's also a reboot and guuuuuuuhhhhhh. The only ones worth even a beer-fuelled watch are the second one and I guess the bits with Ken Foree in part 3 (which is actually a loose remake). Confused yet? I don't blame you, but fortunately, you only have two at most films to bother with out of all this.
So stick to the first one, chainsaw the rest, and enjoy the macabre fun. Of course, Hooper didn't rest on his laurels, and over a decade later, bought a certainly...unique masterpiece to the genre, which we'll get to very soon!
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