“I Think We Just Picked Up Dracula”-The Texas Chain Saw Massacre Turns 49!

Beginning with John Larroquette’s ominous intoning of the set-up (for which, according to him, he was paid the princely sum of one joint), followed by those iconic camera noises, and culminating with a crazed Sally (Marilyn Burns) completely destroyed mentally and physically, giggling in the back of a speeding pick-up truck, Tobe Hooper’s masterpiece, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, continues to make a visceral impact on viewers 49 years after its debut.

I distinctly remember my first time seeing it. I, like everyone else, had heard what a gory, violent film it was. It was pretty taboo for someone my age at the time to even discuss it, except in hushed tones among friends. My childhood best friend’s older brother took us to see it on a double feature with Fulci’s Zombie at the local drive-in when I was 11, thinking he was going to scare the shit out of some punk kids. He was right. And my idea of a “horror film,” – until then defined by Hammer flicks and Godzilla – was forever changed.

You could almost feel the South Texas heat and smell that grisly corpse in the cemetery in the opening frames. The cramped interior of the van, and the seemingly normal 70s type characters put you at ease, the salty proprietor of the gas station (Jim Siedow) seemed harmless enough as well. Then they picked up that creepy hitchhiker (Edwin Neal)…

Things definitely took a crazy turn, but it wasn’t until a precise moment that I knew, without a doubt, that my little adolescent mind was going to never forget this film: when a hulking guy (Gunnar Hansen) wearing a dried-up skin mask, whacks Kirk (William Vail) with a hammer, drags his kicking body into a room, and slams that fucking steel door. That sequence would haunt my nightmares for a decade or so.

Poor Pam (Teri McMinn) stumbling into an insane living room decorated in “early maniac,” the gravity of the situation showing on her face – no one is getting out alive – even before Leatherface impales her on a meat hook to slowly bleed out whilst he fires up the titular chainsaw. Jerry (Allen Danzinger) doesn’t fare any better when he searches for his missing friends. Wheelchair bound Franklin (Paul A. Partain) is the first to be straight up chainsawed onscreen, and despite the fact that he is possibly the most annoying character in horror history, his death still shocks.

Sally’s eventual capture culminates in the “dinner scene” which is almost a form of psychological torture to watch, even after repeated viewings. The normalcy of the cannibal family among the murderous chaos of the set-piece only rattles the brain further, especially when you realize that the desiccated corpse they call “Grandpa” (John Dugan) is very much alive and hungry…

I seriously doubt that when writers Hooper and Kim Henkel sat down to pen this unholy little tale – based very loosely on real life maniac Ed Gein – that they could fathom or foresee the impact that The Texas Chain Saw Massacre would have on not only the horror genre but film in general for decades to come. It is considered by many to be “the perfect horror film,” not only for the scares, the violence, or the sense of terrible certainty that the script invokes, but also because it stands out as much for what it doesn’t show. Despite its reputation for being this gory, bloody mess, very little blood is shown onscreen (the filmmakers were actually shooting for a PG rating). Certainly not as much as a lay person would expect from the title. That, and the fact that you have a masked and virtually mute murderer leaves so much space for your imagination to fill in the blanks. A brilliantly scripted experience in sheer terror.

That The Texas Chain Saw Massacre left an indelible mark on popular culture is a gross understatement. Every year since its debut, it seems interest in the film grows larger rather than waning. Enough merchandise featuring the film to fill dozens of warehouses is sold, not only at Halloween but at horror cons, online, and specialty stores all over the world. Countless references pop up in films, both genre and mainstream, and in television shows. Ask anyone and they can name at least one thing about The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, even if they’ve never seen the film. And Leatherface, that squealing, hulking man-child behind someone else’s face has become one of the “Big Four” of horror fandom alongside Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, and Freddy Krueger. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre has also spawned at least eight sequels and spin-offs of varying quality throughout the years, as well as a plethora of rip-offs and half assed “homages.” It literally re-defined the modern horror film as we know it.

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is a masterpiece of cinema for a laundry list of reasons, but first and foremost, it’s a film that affects the viewer – any viewer – on an almost cellular level and appeals to our most basic concepts or fear and madness. “Classic” doesn’t even come close to describing it. Since my first time, I’ve owned it on virtually every format available; it’s become a “comfort food” film for generations of horror fans.

“You like headcheese? My brother makes it real good… You’ll like it!”