The Scooby episode from Hell.
As a lifelong fan of horror films, I am ashamed to say that it took the death of director Tobe Hooper to finally prompt me to order a DVD copy of THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE. Though this movie has been a horror staple ever since it opened amid enormous controversy in 1974, I’d somehow avoided viewing the film despite it being easily available for decades via videotape, and then DVD. And I must admit, I stayed away because most low budget gore movies from back in the day are just about unwatchable…think Herschell Gordon Lewis. But with the passing of Hooper, and the tremendous praise poured upon CHAINSAW, I decided to finally check out what I had been missing out on all these years, all the while wondering if the movie would still hold up.
I can definitely say that TCM more than holds its own and lives up to the hype; in fact it towers over all the remakes, reboots, and the hundreds of rip-offs that have come down the road in the years since. TCM is arguably the most perfect representation of pure terror ever put on a movie screen, and, like Romero’s NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, one of the movies great visual recreations of a nightmare. One of the many genius moves Hooper made was to go heavy on the sensory overload – the jarring metallic clanging noise, the ominous breeze blowing over the hot Texas landscape, insects skittering about, a dead Armadillo in the road, a blazing red sun in a black sky, a full moon revealing itself behind wispy clouds in the night, a quick shot of listless cattle awaiting slaughter, a room filled with furniture made of human bones, the clucking chicken in a birdcage – to create a false face rural America behind which lies degeneracy and horror unimaginable. The plot, what there is of it, concerns a van full of college students traveling through the boondocks of Texas to visit and old family homestead; of course they run out of gas and walk right into the clutches of the cannibalistic Sawyer clan, where one by one, they are butchered like the cattle in the pens they passed earlier. Only Sally, played by Marilyn Burns, manages to escape, but not before enduring one of the most horrific nights of terror any character has ever been through in any movie ever. That was Hooper’s other genius move, that there be no Hitchcock like buildup of tension before the villains revealed themselves to their victims, they just walk straight into the frame without fear or hesitation and kill their defenseless prey. There had never before been a character quite like Leatherface before TCM, with his hulking frame, mask of human skin, butcher’s apron, and a roaring chainsaw that never freezes up. From the moment he steps out of the dark and guts Sally’s annoying crippled brother, Franklyn, through the relentless chase in the woods, to the ghastly family “dinner” scene with Grandpa, to the final escape on the highway, we are treated to a sequence of pure terror like no other. Yes, it is repetitive, and even today, almost unwatchable in parts, yet the very fact that it plays out like a scratched record is what makes it feel like a nightmare without end. No wonder movie goers at a sneak preview back in 1974 walked out and threatened to beat up the theater manager.
Hooper’s other genius moves were to make us believe we have seen far more gore than is really on the screen, like when Pam is hung up on the meat hook before Leatherface begins carving up Kirk; his use of dark humor, as when Leatherface looks furtively looks out the window and then sits down an beats his head in frustration, as if these kids who keep wondering into the house were interrupting him from baking a pie in the kitchen. I love the camera work by cinematographer Daniel Pearl, especially the low angle tracking shot of Pam getting up from the swing and walking toward the Sawyer house until it fills the frame, along with Leatherface’s pursuit of Sally through the country side, whining chainsaw in hand. And who can forget Leatherface’s defiant final dance in the middle of the highway? The film was shot in 16MM and then blown up to 35MM, which helped give it that classic grainy look, which is one of its most memorable aspects. So too is John Larroquette’s opening narration, where he does his best Orson Welles.
Hooper got great performances out of his cast of unknowns, most of whom were ready to kill him after the grueling shoot on location in triple digit heat during the summer of 1973, where some of the working days stretched to over twenty hours in a race to get the movie done before equipment rentals expired. One stand out is Paul Partain as Franklyn, a truly irksome character with a Texas twang. We never see Gunner Hansen’s face, but he creates the iconic Leatherface through squeals, grunts and body language alone. That he wears a tie is even more unnerving. It is a horror performance that rivals Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein Monster. That is John Henry Faulk, whose lawsuit famously ended the Hollywood blacklist, as the man at the cemetery in the opening scene. Like Tobe Hooper, most of the cast has passed on now, and it is sad to know that most of them were done out of residuals and payments over the years by unscrupulous distributors.
One of the joys of watching TCM now is the snapshot it gives us of the Nixon era 70’s, with its shaggy hair and bad fashions, it was also a time when the Vietnam War, the Manson family, the Texas Tower killer (one the first mass spree killings), and the Weather Underground bombings were in the very recent past; a dark time in an America filled with dread and random violence (sound familiar?). All of this darkness and tension is palpable in the film. As it stands, THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, is a classic in the fear-the-rural-South genre, where outsiders become stranded in Dixie and at the mercy of malevolent locals; a fear that was compounded in the wake of the murder of three Northern civil rights workers in Neshoba County, Mississippi, in the summer of 1964. In that, TCM belongs in the same company as DELIVERANCE, MACON COUNTY LINE, TWO THOUSAND MANIACS, and SOUTHERN COMFORT.
There are many influences for TCM, including the crimes of Ed Gein, along with the first movie take on that character, Hitchcock’s PSYCHO. But the one influence no one seems to mention, but to me is obvious, is Scooby Doo, the cartoon where a bunch of kids travel across the country in a van encountering various monsters, who usually turn out to be some villain wearing a costume. In this way, TCM is like the Scooby Doo episode from Hell, where the mask wearing Big Bad slices and dices up the kids.
Tobe Hooper never quite got the respect of that some of his contemporaries (John Carpenter, George Romero, William Friedkin) who made great horror films back in the 70’s, but his legacy is a solid one. He would go on make a great TV adaptation of Stephen King’s SALEM’S LOT, the classic POLTERGEIST, and the unique scifi horror film, LIFEFORCE among others. But it will be THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE that he will most be remembered for, a fierce, uncompromising gift to all of us who love to be scared in the best possible way.
And bonus points to anyone who remembers the Mark Harmon 80’s comedy, SUMMER SCHOOL and that great joke whose punch line is, “New film from district, Safe Use of Power Tools.” That’s Hooper’s legacy too.
I am an indie author of horror and alternate history novels.
My latest book, the first in a series, BIG CRIMSON 1: THERE'S A NEW VAMPIRE IN TOWN is available for order on Amazon at https://bit.ly/3InqZCm.
My alternate history novel is ALL THE WAY WITH JFK: AN ALTERNATE HISTORY OF 1964. It can be found at the following:
http://amzn.to/2jVkW9m on Amazon
http://bit.ly/2kAoiAH at Smashwords
Visit my Goodreads author's page at
http://bit.ly/2nxmgS2
I can definitely say that TCM more than holds its own and lives up to the hype; in fact it towers over all the remakes, reboots, and the hundreds of rip-offs that have come down the road in the years since. TCM is arguably the most perfect representation of pure terror ever put on a movie screen, and, like Romero’s NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, one of the movies great visual recreations of a nightmare. One of the many genius moves Hooper made was to go heavy on the sensory overload – the jarring metallic clanging noise, the ominous breeze blowing over the hot Texas landscape, insects skittering about, a dead Armadillo in the road, a blazing red sun in a black sky, a full moon revealing itself behind wispy clouds in the night, a quick shot of listless cattle awaiting slaughter, a room filled with furniture made of human bones, the clucking chicken in a birdcage – to create a false face rural America behind which lies degeneracy and horror unimaginable. The plot, what there is of it, concerns a van full of college students traveling through the boondocks of Texas to visit and old family homestead; of course they run out of gas and walk right into the clutches of the cannibalistic Sawyer clan, where one by one, they are butchered like the cattle in the pens they passed earlier. Only Sally, played by Marilyn Burns, manages to escape, but not before enduring one of the most horrific nights of terror any character has ever been through in any movie ever. That was Hooper’s other genius move, that there be no Hitchcock like buildup of tension before the villains revealed themselves to their victims, they just walk straight into the frame without fear or hesitation and kill their defenseless prey. There had never before been a character quite like Leatherface before TCM, with his hulking frame, mask of human skin, butcher’s apron, and a roaring chainsaw that never freezes up. From the moment he steps out of the dark and guts Sally’s annoying crippled brother, Franklyn, through the relentless chase in the woods, to the ghastly family “dinner” scene with Grandpa, to the final escape on the highway, we are treated to a sequence of pure terror like no other. Yes, it is repetitive, and even today, almost unwatchable in parts, yet the very fact that it plays out like a scratched record is what makes it feel like a nightmare without end. No wonder movie goers at a sneak preview back in 1974 walked out and threatened to beat up the theater manager.
Hooper’s other genius moves were to make us believe we have seen far more gore than is really on the screen, like when Pam is hung up on the meat hook before Leatherface begins carving up Kirk; his use of dark humor, as when Leatherface looks furtively looks out the window and then sits down an beats his head in frustration, as if these kids who keep wondering into the house were interrupting him from baking a pie in the kitchen. I love the camera work by cinematographer Daniel Pearl, especially the low angle tracking shot of Pam getting up from the swing and walking toward the Sawyer house until it fills the frame, along with Leatherface’s pursuit of Sally through the country side, whining chainsaw in hand. And who can forget Leatherface’s defiant final dance in the middle of the highway? The film was shot in 16MM and then blown up to 35MM, which helped give it that classic grainy look, which is one of its most memorable aspects. So too is John Larroquette’s opening narration, where he does his best Orson Welles.
Hooper got great performances out of his cast of unknowns, most of whom were ready to kill him after the grueling shoot on location in triple digit heat during the summer of 1973, where some of the working days stretched to over twenty hours in a race to get the movie done before equipment rentals expired. One stand out is Paul Partain as Franklyn, a truly irksome character with a Texas twang. We never see Gunner Hansen’s face, but he creates the iconic Leatherface through squeals, grunts and body language alone. That he wears a tie is even more unnerving. It is a horror performance that rivals Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein Monster. That is John Henry Faulk, whose lawsuit famously ended the Hollywood blacklist, as the man at the cemetery in the opening scene. Like Tobe Hooper, most of the cast has passed on now, and it is sad to know that most of them were done out of residuals and payments over the years by unscrupulous distributors.
One of the joys of watching TCM now is the snapshot it gives us of the Nixon era 70’s, with its shaggy hair and bad fashions, it was also a time when the Vietnam War, the Manson family, the Texas Tower killer (one the first mass spree killings), and the Weather Underground bombings were in the very recent past; a dark time in an America filled with dread and random violence (sound familiar?). All of this darkness and tension is palpable in the film. As it stands, THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, is a classic in the fear-the-rural-South genre, where outsiders become stranded in Dixie and at the mercy of malevolent locals; a fear that was compounded in the wake of the murder of three Northern civil rights workers in Neshoba County, Mississippi, in the summer of 1964. In that, TCM belongs in the same company as DELIVERANCE, MACON COUNTY LINE, TWO THOUSAND MANIACS, and SOUTHERN COMFORT.
There are many influences for TCM, including the crimes of Ed Gein, along with the first movie take on that character, Hitchcock’s PSYCHO. But the one influence no one seems to mention, but to me is obvious, is Scooby Doo, the cartoon where a bunch of kids travel across the country in a van encountering various monsters, who usually turn out to be some villain wearing a costume. In this way, TCM is like the Scooby Doo episode from Hell, where the mask wearing Big Bad slices and dices up the kids.
Tobe Hooper never quite got the respect of that some of his contemporaries (John Carpenter, George Romero, William Friedkin) who made great horror films back in the 70’s, but his legacy is a solid one. He would go on make a great TV adaptation of Stephen King’s SALEM’S LOT, the classic POLTERGEIST, and the unique scifi horror film, LIFEFORCE among others. But it will be THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE that he will most be remembered for, a fierce, uncompromising gift to all of us who love to be scared in the best possible way.
And bonus points to anyone who remembers the Mark Harmon 80’s comedy, SUMMER SCHOOL and that great joke whose punch line is, “New film from district, Safe Use of Power Tools.” That’s Hooper’s legacy too.
I am an indie author of horror and alternate history novels.
My latest book, the first in a series, BIG CRIMSON 1: THERE'S A NEW VAMPIRE IN TOWN is available for order on Amazon at https://bit.ly/3InqZCm.
My alternate history novel is ALL THE WAY WITH JFK: AN ALTERNATE HISTORY OF 1964. It can be found at the following:
http://amzn.to/2jVkW9m on Amazon
http://bit.ly/2kAoiAH at Smashwords
Visit my Goodreads author's page at
http://bit.ly/2nxmgS2
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