Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: David Blue Garcia
Starring: Olwen Fouéré, Sarah Yarkin, Elsie Fisher, Jacob Latimore, Nell Hudson, Moe Dunford,
Mark Burnham
Here we go again. Like the recent
Halloween,
Candyman
and
Scream, director David Blue Garcia's
Texas Chainsaw Massacre is the latest belated horror
sequel that couldn't be bothered coming up with a name of its own (Okay,
if you want to be pedantic about things, Tobe Hooper's original was
actually titled The Texas Chain Saw Massacre). As these things go, Texas Chainsaw Massacre is better
than any of the sequels mentioned above, but that's a pretty low
bar.
Like Halloween, this one ignores all the previous sequels. This is a franchise that
has been rebooted so many times that you've probably forgotten about
some of its reincarnations. Who remembers 2017's
Leatherface? Or 2013's
Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3D, notable only for introducing the world to Alexandra Daddario? All of
those are scrapped as an opening clip from a salacious true crime TV
show (narrated once again by John Larroquette) reminds us of the
events of Hooper's 1974 classic, when a bunch of youngsters stumbled
upon a remote farmhouse in rural Texas and were hacked to pieces by a
chainsaw wielding manic wearing a mask made from human skin.
The only survivor of that massacre was Sally Hardesty, originally
played by Marilyn Burns in one of the most iconic final girl turns, and
now portrayed by Irish actress Olwen Fouéré. As with Laurie
Strode in the recent Halloween sequels, Sally has become a
gun nut and is waiting for her chance to take revenge against
Leatherface.
That opportunity arises when a group of young urbanites arrive in
Harlow, Texas with plans of turning the ghost town into a hipster
enclave. They've invited a bunch of fellow hipsters to check out the
town, which they've had renovated by local handyman Richter (Moe Dunford), who rubs the kids up the wrong way with his love of guns. In one of
the houses the youngsters believe they now own they find an elderly
woman (Alice Krige) who argues that she never sold her home. When
the cops arrive the old lady croaks, and her suspiciously hulking son
dons her face and sets out to take revenge.
There's some interesting stuff at play here.
Texas Chainsaw Massacre is essentially a revenge thriller,
but it features two characters seeking vengeance against different
parties. While Leatherface is out for blood against the hipsters he
blames for his mum's death, Sally is out to get the apron-wearing
psychopath. This puts protagonist and antagonist on conflicting paths,
with Leatherface finding some humanity through his loss while Sally
loses her humanity in her quest for vengeance.
In similar fashion to Blumhouse's recent fun riff on
The Most Dangerous Game,
The Hunt, Texas Chainsaw Massacre aims its sights at both
America's conservative gun-lovers and its equally annoying if less
threatening liberal wing. Leatherface is indiscriminate in his politics,
and it's a guilty pleasure watching his saw tear through members of both
irritating factions.
What's most surprising about Texas Chainsaw Massacre is
the quality of the cast that's been assembled, though nobody is given
any material that's going to stretch their talents. Elsie Fisher,
who won us over as the put-upon protagonist of teen drama
Eighth Grade, takes the role of potential final girl here, as a survivor of a
school shooting. This contentious and provocative backstory is so
unexplored however that it simply comes off as cheap exploitation.
Fouéré's Hardesty is similarly one-note, but unlike Laurie Strode in
Halloween, it makes sense that Hardesty would become a gun nut, as unlike the
supernatural Michael Myers, Leatherface is just a hulking human brute.
Plus, she lives in rural Texas rather than suburban Illinois.
You'll likely forget Texas Chainsaw Massacre as soon as
the credits roll, but thankfully those credits roll after a swiftly
paced 85 minutes. You'll have to bite your tongue regarding queries
about the timeline (Leatherface must be in his seventies at this point
yet moves like a twentysomething), but unlike some other filmmakers,
director Garcia does enough to suggest he's a fan of the series he's
working in and understands its lizard brain grindhouse appeal. He also
seems to be a fan of Hooper in general, with sequences that nod to the
likes of Eaten Alive and The Funhouse. It's a shame this is debuting on Netflix, as it's custom made for a
drive-in screen.
