The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
(2003)
review by Head Cheeze

When it was announced that Michael Bay would helm a remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre awhile back, there was absolutely no horror fan worth his salt who supported the idea. When Bay handed the reins over to music video director Nispel, our collective angst grew, as rumours of a more sanitised, teen friendly version of the Tobe Hooper classic abounded. Then, a couple of months back, we got out first real glimpse of the film, consolidated into a very effective and gorgeous trailer that hinted at something well beyond our less than enthusiastic expectations. It was after seeing that trailer that my grim resolve gave way to morbid curiosity. Could it actually be that good?

As we made our way in to the darkened theater (arriving just in time for the teaser for yet another horror classic-remake, Dawn of the Dead), we literally stumbled over the dozens of teen couples, giggling in anticipation. Little did they know they'd be leaving the theater shaken to their very core.

The film opens with a familiar voiceover (John Larroquette reprising his narrator's role from the original) and some black and white film footage of police investigating the crime scene. We are then introduced to our victims-to-be, Erin (Biel), her boyfriend Kemper (Balfour), Morgan (Tucker), Andy (Vogel), and Pepper (Blair Witch 2's hottie Leerhsen). The group is en route to a Lynrd Skynrd concert in Dallas, after making a detour through Mexico to pick up copious amounts of marijuana (unbeknownst to Erin, but also completely inconsequential to the plot of the film). When Kemper barely manages to avoid running down a dazed girl walking in the middle of the road, the group offer her help. It's here that the film branches off from Hooper's original as the "hitcher" does something completely unexpected, setting off a chain of disturbing events that eventually bring them into the clutches of a band of backwoods sickos and their basement dwelling, chainsaw wielding scion.

This film is simply relentless. When it's not making you jump out of your seat with classic "stabs" (sudden movements accompanied by loud musical stings), it's making you wince with grisly footage of all manner of foul liquids, rodents, flys, rotting meat, and testicles in Ball jars (nice). It's as if Nispel heard the criticism of the masses who expected a sanitised 90's style horror flick and said "Oh, just you wait!" As a matter of fact, the film is so over the top in terms of gore, grue, and gunk that it's actually uncomfortable to watch. I'm certainly not one to be put off by such things, normally, but even I had a hard time with the absolute cruelty with which this film handled it's unwitting audience. I have to admit, I got a kick out of the stunned silence and whimpering teenage girls who left the theater looking as though they'd just witnessed their favourite pet getting backed over by the family station wagon, but my fiance was equally shaken and absolutely hated the film; not because it was a bad film, but simply because it was, in her mind, violent for violence's sake. Several times, long after we'd left the theater, she looked at me and said "I don't like what I saw."

Now, for all of us seasoned horror afficionados, them's the words we wanna hear. Horror is supposed to scare us, but, in a world where the threat of real terror waits around every corner, it's become increasingly difficult to simply toss a mask on a guy and have him blast out of bushes and expect that to do the job. Sure, there are loads of scenes that employ that classic tactic, with varying degrees of success, but, ultimately, the scariest thing about The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is it's absolute cruelty. I'm actually shocked that it earned merely an R rating, and can only speculate that producer Michael Bay must have greased some palms to sneak this one by. While the original film hinted at the offscreen violence through sound effects and clever subliminal imagery, director Marcus Nispel gives us the full monty. There's a scene in which Leatherface chops off a fleeing victim's leg with a few well placed swipes of the saw, props him up on a meat hook, and then, to extend the victims suffering, salts the wound, dresses it in newspaper and string, and leaves him their to hang. The victim's in this film aren't merely killed, they are tortured physically and psychologically, left alone to suffer and contemplate, and then, are tortured again. It's actually quite uncomfortable to watch, at times, and, yet, is ultimately what makes The Texas Chainsaw Massacre such an effective film. While I didn't notice anyone leaving the theater, I did see a lot of hands over eyes, and, perhaps most disturbingly, a lot of absolutely blank and astonished expressions. Kids coming in expecting silly horror-by-numbers drek like Wrong Turn were FINALLY being treated to horror as I remember it; Visceral, disturbing, and defiantly uncompromising.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is certainly not without it's flaws. There are some lapses in logic, as in any body count film, where people go off in separate directions when there's obviously safety in numbers. Also, while I enjoy R. Lee Ermey, his character has much too much screen time for what is, essentially, a minor role, while other members of "the family" are hardly introduced at all. I also get a feeling that we missed something, because there's a scene during the film's frantic coda that involves a member of the family aiding the survivors that's never really explained seeing as how he's part of the reason our heroes are in this situation in the first place.

Those gripes aside, I was really happy with this one. While I've read a lot of mainstream critical takes on this film, I'm thinking they missed the point. Roger Ebert, for example, states that the film is "reprehensible", while others have called it repulsive. Were I Nispel, I'd welcome these criticisms as those were precisely the reactions the original film got from critics upon it's release. While I'm sure many will compare the two films, they are completely different animals wearing somewhat similiar skins. The original film is not only one of my favourite horror films of all time, it's one of my favourite films period. Hooper's TCM was a masterpiece that paved the way for countless films to follow, while Nispel's is...well...a remake of that film!

I've gotta admit that this remake not only scared the bejeesus out of me, but it impressed me on a technical level as well. Daniel Pearl, the original's cinematographer, returns here. Gone is the gritty documentary style of the original, with a darkly polished Fincher style motif serving as the look this time around. The film is absolutely beautiful in such an ugly way; a wonderful dichotomy that serves as a marvelously macabre backdrop for Nispel's devious deeds. Oh, and there's a piece of cinema trickery around 15 minutes in that will be talked about for years. You'll know it when you see it, believe me!

While very few will say this film deserves mention in the same breath as it's ground breaking archetype, I think it deserves a little credit. It takes a lot to shock me these days, and, barely ten minutes into this one, it got me. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre circa 2003 is not your father's Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, and, by the time the end credits roll, even the hardest of the hardcore fans of the original may find themselves more than a little impressed.