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| Images Courtesy of Vortex Inc. |
Controversial. Appalling. Rebellious.
Tobe Hooper's infamous masterpiece is a blue-collar
shocker that stalwartly remains one of the most seminal horror films ever
conceived.
Five teenagers set out on a road trip across the
blistering Texas back roads. They pick up a hitchhiker whose bizarre behaviors
are a harbinger of the horrific events waiting to befall them. When they
discover a decrepit farmhouse, the teens unwittingly come face to face with a
taxidermic nightmare, a grotesque clan of backwoods killers who are looking for
new additions to their congregation of flesh.
The combination of gruesome visuals and sweaty, screen
door, Americana cover every inch of this slaughterhouse menagerie. Using a
false premise, insinuating that the story actually occurred was a brilliant
choice, evoking a lost America, steeped in esoteric pig's blood and mud caked
work boots. Virtually every set could be plucked from a house the viewer has no
doubt passed on an endless familial road trip as a child. The victims are
realistically foolhardy and the violence is both brutal and unusually rapid,
with most executions happening instantly. It is the aftermath of the initial
onslaught that garnered the film's notorious reputation.
Daniel Pearl's cinematography has a vintage quality that
gives everything a secondhand feel, using psychedelic oranges to contrast the
rustic blues and greens of the locale. The woods and surrounding environs of
the farmhouse are captured with lush wide shots while the interior of the house
is shot in a confusing procession of odd angles and extreme closeups. During
the final act, everything switches to restrained voyeurism, including a
wonderful long take of the family's patriarch being brought downstairs for
"dinner". Robert Burns's art direction has a repulsive quality that
is the perfect accomplice. From the iconic skin mask of Leatherface to the
otherworldly interiors of the house, the most frightening aspect of the film is
the idea of what has already transpired, rather than the impending atrocities.
Almost every member of the cast was injured during
production, Marilyn Burns as Sally and Gunnar Hansen as Leatherface display a
torturous amount of body work. Budget constraints required that most of the
cast do their own stunts, one of which involved a live chainsaw being
perilously close an actor's neck. Real blood was used in one of the film's more
dubious scenes and Burns's costume was so saturated in theater blood that it
had almost completely calcified when filming concluded.
The film was banned in several countries for its
depiction of apathetic violence, and yet, for a horror film, the actual on-screen
bloodshed is remarkably tame when put against modern contemporaries in the
genre. The combination of lighting effects and Larry Caroll and Sallye
Richardson's serrated film editing leave the bulk of the gore to the viewer's
subconscious. Hooper and Wayne Bell's nails on chalkboard soundtrack is the
final piece, using an industrial arsenal to mimic Leatherface's primal
savagery.
Available now on Amazon Prime and The Roku Channel (Free
with ads), The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is an outstanding piece of
terror that is essential viewing for any film fan. This is one of the horror
titans, using a wonderful combination of independent film tactics to produce a
blood slicked masterwork. On the surface, this is a legendary slasher film, but
deeper examination reveals a thoughtful horror film that delivers unforgettable
imagery and a thought provoking commentary on post-Vietnam America's specious
grandeur.
--Kyle Jonathan