The road to Halloween is paved with good films. Wherein we countdown to the spirited season with a hundred doses of horror. 78 days to go.
The 2003 remake / rehashing / retort of the ultimate slasher classic, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), was under scrutiny right from the off. And not just because Michael Bay would be producing (but not directing). No, this was sacred horror turf, now about to be trampled on, which understandably perturbed the loyal fright fans. And good luck competing with one of the finest rear shots in cinema, as Teri McMinn’s Pam leaves the swing bench and strolls to the ill-fated house.
This time around, Marcus Nispel would be hired to direct. With a background of vivid music videos and commercials on his C.V. he was apparently a hot prospect to rework such a huge film. And to be fair to Nispel, the 2003 version of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a lucid, gorgeous looking film. The balance of natural light and the big bad dark is a compelling force.
Putting the integrity of the original aside for a moment, Nispel somehow manages to maintain his swaggering style without overdoing it. Bringing the Texan nightmare into the modern era. And that is even with cinematographer Daniel Pearl behind the camera, who of course worked on the 1974 film. And it might be easy to sit back and point the finger even more now, over fifteen years later, because of the horror-churning machine that has muddled our judgement since.
“The 2003 version of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a lucid, gorgeous looking film.”
The 2003 version just about stands on its own, in comparison to the Tobe Hooper film, but also the barrage of like-for-like mad-killer-chasing-screaming-victim movies that surround us. And have for decades. Yes, technologically we have come leaps and bounds. Yes, we do have to adapt to the changing times – not just in cinema, but the vast differences in culture, politics, economy et al.
And yes, the cast is an attractive one for the most part. But so was the original. Bay and co wanted a relatively unfamiliar set of faces to hit the road across Texas on their way to a 1973 Lynyrd Skynyrd gig. And so they were pretty unknown, with Mike Vogel, Erica Leerhsen and Jonathan Tucker. Six Feet Under’s Eric Balfour was certainly more recognizable. As was Jessica Biel, on the brink of making it big until it never happened.
When their minivan comes across a rather delerious woman (Laura German) wandering the dusty road, the gang pick up more than they can stomach. Stranded with the bloody vehicle, they try with little glee to find help. The local Sheriff (R. Lee Ermey) is a despicable, grotesque figure of authority. So that’s out of the window. And then, of course, the Hewitt family – and that illusive Leatherface (Andrew Bryniarski).
“The cumbersome, raggedly bulk of Leatherface is largely what makes him terrifying.”
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre does pull a few itsy twists in the tale. For one, Balfour’s face showing up later in the most shocking of places. And there is an unease about someone merely whimpering when they are hoisted onto a metal hook. The abundance of light-reflecting dripping water from here, there and everywhere, is also creepily atmospheric.
The cumbersome, raggedly bulk of Leatherface is largely what makes him terrifying. That feeling of dread that he might be through the next door (whether they’re expecting him or not).
But even though this update on Leatherface literally rubs salt in the wound of a leg he has recently sliced off, the man is just not as disturbing as his blueprint. A butcher, a family member, a person with a disfigured face – there are snippets of prods to sympathize with this maniac which falls a touch by the wayside.
These are not so much fatal downers, but rather aspects of the chiller than leave it someway short of the standard horror greats. The ‘true story’ voice-over, too, that bookends the film, with handheld footage, feels unnecessary. There’s even a scene of a mercy killing, which is swept aside so swiftly, there’s hardly time to buy into the emotion of it.
Wait, there are more pros. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre captures the Texan heat with a consistent orange hue. Shot in Austin, the rural junkyard of a setting is a fitting trope for such a game of demented cat and hippy mouse. The interior production design is also impressive, where severed heads, glass jars of fingers and eyes, various other body parts, form much of the stench of the decor.
“The much more linear story structure from the hauntingly haywire original is a slight suspense breaker here.”
Marcus Nispel is clearly a confident filmmaker at his first feature attempt. One particular flashy shot pulls through the hole in the head left by a bullet. Generally, the film oozes physical and mental trauma for its characters. The much more linear story structure from the hauntingly haywire original is a slight suspense breaker here. And the characters do a little too much angsting for my liking. But I am nitpicking.
While it is a stretch to fall head over heels for these youngsters, it is Jessica Biel’s tomboy Erin that ultimately takes the upper hand – in both character and acting. As well as hot-wiring a car, Erin seems to have the greater morals of the group. Plus, the vigilante in her is a great addition. Calling her a true survivor is hardly a spoiler, but there is a satisfying glory in watching her run down one horrendous human being, and then reversing back over him.
A similar euphoria when that creepy hitchhiker is squished under the lorry in the 1974 film. The comparisons to that trend-setter are few and far between, apart from the obvious. The modern screenwriting bottles killing someone in a wheelchair, nor do any of the kills give you chills like the mallet over the head in the first film. Jessica Biel is up to the task here for sure, but her hysteria will never be as iconic as Marilyn Burns’ Sally and those blood-drenched cries.
