In 1974, Tobe Hooper made his directorial debut with the feel-good family comedy of the year, the film that embodied the mantra of “live, laugh, love” and brought a sense of warmth and comfort to audiences everywhere, who doubtlessly went straight to their local travel agency and booked their one-way tickets to the American South, where they too hoped to go on a tour of the dry and isolated landscape where the friendly neighbours are just dying to have you for dinner. The film was The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and don’t let the title deter you, this is a truly killer film that will have you positively bursting at the seams to find your local deserted gas station to feed on their delicious homemade barbeque, which tastes just like father used to make it. This holiday season, there is no better film to watch beside the yuletide log, armed with hot chocolate and perhaps a warm brandy, than The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, which will delight everyone from the children to your supercentenarian grandfather. It’s fun for the whole family!

In all seriousness, Tobe Hooper may have made the best horror films of the 1970s. Like many, I have always been hyper-aware of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, being in full knowledge of its status as one of the most iconic horror films of its era, and a watershed moment for the slasher genre, which would be formed from this film and its unique approach horror. Until today, however, I had always been unable to bring myself to watch it – at first, it just seemed too terrifying to handle, and recently, it just seemed far too bleak to enjoy. However, after having seen it, there is little doubt in my mind: this is a masterpiece. It has developed a reputation as an influential film, a seminal piece of filmmaking that not only served to be an important step forward for the horror genre, which would go on to form a very profitable sub-genre based on the success of this film, but also for independent filmmaking, where Hooper proved not every film that endeavours to frighten the audience necessarily has to have an enormous budget and demonstrate excess, and that when done right, even the most straightforward of pieces can be just as terrifying. There is just nothing quite like  The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and if we ignore the many sequels and spin-offs that have accompanied it in recent years, it isn’t difficult to see precisely why this is a film with such an intimidating reputation – it is a well-made horror film that does not spare a single moment of unhinged terror, imbuing it with an abundance of violence and some slight but memorable moments of pitch-black humour, bringing it all together in the most economical of slasher films, where everything is compressed into a gory but strangely elegant package of unrestrained terror. There aren’t many films that live up to their superlatives, but The Texas Chain Saw Massacre most definitely warrants its status as one of the greatest horror films ever made.

There are many aspects that make this film so brilliant and allows it to remain just as fresh and exciting today as it was decades ago. First of all, Hooper managed to turn his paltry budget and limited time to film into the most significant merits of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Over the course of the 1960s and 1970s, there were numerous American filmmakers who were crafting unique horror films, constructing terrifying tales that were very different from what their colleagues with bigger budgets were doing. Suddenly, horror films were not strictly enormously intimidating affairs that contained innovative special effects and major stars but could also be much smaller, and even more terrifying, in how they endeavoured to frighten the viewer. The guerilla method of horror filmmaking has always been the most unsettling, as the grounded approach to the story, as well as the casts consisting of mostly unknowns, gave these films an uncanny sense of realism, which creates inescapable unease and bleak despair. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is certainly effective on this fact alone – just about as economical as a film like this can be, Hooper’s vision is one that utilized his unique resourcefulness, which allowed him to see everything in his way not as something that impinges upon the process, but rather serves to be a challenge that adds nuance to the final product – without the gritty, almost hyper-realistic atmosphere of this film, as well as the fact that it was extremely rough around the edges, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre would just not have been nearly as effective, and a more polished film might have been easier to watch, but would not have come close to being as terrifying as what the film turned out to be.

The story is simple – apparently based on true events (which we now know to be malarkey, with Hooper confirming that this approach was done to comment on the deceitful nature of politics at that time), we are introduced to a group of young people on their way into the heartland of Texas to investigate reports of vandalism to a relative’s gravesite. Naturally, they run into some kind of trouble, and they seek the solace of an old house that belongs to one of the main character’s family. Ignoring the sense of looming danger, they all openly galavant through the isolated surroundings, and when some of them become a bit too curious for their own good, they find themselves in the clutches of a cannibalistic family, who depend on the mentally-challenged but deeply sadistic Leatherface to provide for them. One by one, they find themselves the victims of these malicious individuals, who spare absolutely no mercy to these innocent people who just took a wrong turn, and found themselves fighting for their lives, despite that fact that Leatherface is not only a murderer with a unique style (everybody’s crazy about a sharp-dressed man) but also someone with a certain tenacity in how he is willing to go to any extents to make sure that his family has food, even if their tastes veer towards the macabre. As the tagline for this film so succinctly states, “for five young friends, a typical summer afternoon drive becomes a terrifying nightmare” – nothing can prepare the audience for the experience that The Texas Chain Saw Massacre has in store for us.

What makes The Texas Chain Saw Massacre such a compelling film is not only is it very simple, and rooted in reality (it refreshingly abandons any idea of the supernatural, rather situating the horror in real contexts, which make it even more unsettling, because there is the implication that things like this have occurred in the past, which only aids the idea that the film wants to be perceived as being based on true events), but that it is unquestionably terrifying – this is one film that has managed to retain its status as being one of the scariest horror films ever made, despite having been made nearly half a century ago. From the very first moments of the film, there is an unmistakable sinister tone to the film, one that only gradually increases – there are some early attempts at humour, but nothing that distracts from the fact that we are about to be witness to some of the most gloriously deranged violence in cinematic history. The tension only starts to grow, and when Leatherface finally makes his appearance (surprisingly only about halfway through the film), the audience has been suitably prepared for the anarchy that is to come, and we watch with a blend of unspeakable shock and wide-eyed wonder as the killer wreaks absolute havoc on his victims, as well as the sadistic games he and his family play should you be unfortunate enough to survive long enough to attend one of their famous candlelight suppers. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is unflinching – when other directors would tone down the violence in favour of relying on implication (both for narrative ease, and for the sake of the audience’s sanity), Hooper increases the intensity exponentially, taking this film to darker places than anyone could ever anticipate.

Tobe Hooper’s imagination was a wonderful and terrifying place, and that was beyond evident in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, which saw the director essentially set the standard for all subsequent slasher horror films. It wasn’t necessarily the first film of its kind (there are many independent horror films that came before this one that saw similar patterns of random but cohesive killings), but it was the one that established a lot of the conventions that would go on to serve as the basis for the countless slasher films produced every year. However, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is also very different, because it kills nearly everyone off within the span of fewer than fifteen minutes, which could be construed as somewhat confusing, but ultimately makes sense when the final act begins, and we see this is a film much deeper than just being some nameless, (Leather)faceless killer murdering people – this is where The Texas Chain Saw Massacre becomes a masterpiece, transforming from an insanely violent slasher film into a warped Southern Gothic saga, where we are introduced to the rest of the killer clan. This is when the film is at its most unsettling, reaching a peak of almost irreparable discomfort and terror, where the tension, combined with the macabre surroundings, make for an almost nauseatingly terrifying experience. Unexpected, entirely unpredictable and deeply unsettling (especially in the moments of dark humour, which are almost as disconcerting as the most violent parts of the film). Hooper’s vision really runs the gamut of perversion, with his demented approach facilitating a film that should be unbearable, but is oddly compelling in a strange way, and he even manages to find the beauty in the violence – just consider the final moment of the film, where Leatherface flails his chain saw in anger and resignation to watching a would-be victim escape his clutches – there are seldom moments in horror films that are nearly as powerful as that.

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is a bona fide masterpiece – there is very little room for argument against a film so assured in its intention, and so effective in its execution. It is a gritty, difficult film to watch, but one that never falters from its tense but thrilling premise that sees the audience drawn into a mesmerizing story brimming with violence and despair, where a group of truly unfortunate people find themselves the victims of a malicious killer whose intentions (at least in this film) are unclear, but no less horrifying. This is mercifully not a film that indelibly disturbs the viewer – Hooper understands that it takes a good filmmaker to scare the audience, but a great filmmaker to not scar them permanently, and while some of the images may be etched into the minds of the viewer for quite a while, it will likely be a result of the sheer catharsis of having just undergone one of the most psychologically daunting cinematic experiences one could possibly have. However, it’s one that never feels false – it is an authentic, twisted ordeal that is entirely unforgettable. Hooper made something really special here – The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is more than just mindless violence, but a film that finds some semblance of sanity in its overabundance of madness. Strangely enough, there is some form of rhyme and reason to the absurd anarchy Hooper presents us with, and it is in the moments after this film, when we can reflect and ruminate on this harrowing and haunting film, that we can appreciate the brilliance that went into this masterpiece of the horror genre. Keeping everything simple, but not abandoning the underlying themes that may not be notable at first, but become evident much later, this film occupies an ambigious space between chaos and satire. An undeniably brilliant work, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is just a masterful exercise in cinematic terror, and there are few films more deserving of the adulation that this film has received since its groundbreaking debut, which incited countless other films that tried (and often failed) to capture the spark of brilliance that made this film the watershed moment that it was. Now, how about some barbeque?