As frequent frequenter of endless horror sequels, it’s a good idea to give yourself a good, healthy reality check every now and then. No matter how many times the psychotic anti-heroes keep popping back up like a repeating kebab, the chances of the newest instalment matching the original are virtually always zero. Now, while I’ve never been under the illusion that all these retreads could possibly hope to square up to the classics, it’s also exceedingly rare to find one so laughably awful as Texas Chainsaw 3D.
We join proceedings just as the first movie ends and it immediately violates the original mere minutes out of the gate. It turns out that the Saywer clan is more than just the 4 batshit crazy members we are all familiar with. There’s dozens of them and they all seem to be ok with the human furniture that Leatherface, Hitchhiker and co. deck their house with, because they all race to the house to defend them from the raging townsfolk. However, in a twist, the townsfolk are all as bloodthirsty assholes as the Sawyers and a (non chainsaw) massacre ensues.
After the carnage settles and the lynching party whoops it up and takes photos, one of their number finds a surviving baby, takes it and raises it as their own.
39 years later and that baby has somehow only aged to be in her twenties (they not to think too hard about it, it’ll only hurt) and goes by the name of Heather. Her “parents” (or kidnappers, y’know, whatever suits you) are utter slobs who haven’t told her about her – shall we say salty – past and one day she finds out shes been left a mansion in her will. Heading out with her cheating boyfriend, her slutty best friend and couple of other odious tag alongs (Heather isn’t exactly gifted when picking friends) to view the house she gets caught up in the conspiracy of the local townsfolk, the shady past of the house and the hulking, chainsaw wielding, human skin-mask wearing relative living in the basement like a jobless teen.
As the paranoid mayor of the town strives to keep the secret that he led a lynch party in his youth and Leatherface figures he really should get out more, the bodies start to pile up leading to the movie’s confusing and ridiculous conclusion.
It is almost impossible to know where to start when preparing to hurl shit at this stunningly inept sequel to Tobe Hooper’s flawless original, but one thing is crystal clear: this could be one of the most stupid scripts I have ever had the audacity to witness.
Let’s ignore the massive inconsistency of the Heather’s Benjamin Button aging for a second and just randomly question all the stupid shit the film pulls on a stunningly regular basis. The film seems to think that murdering a bunch of kids and eating them is nowhere near terrible a crime as getting a posse together and shooting them for it. Oh sure, I get both are wrong, but surely impaling a girl on a meathook and carving up her dead boyfriend while she watches is the greater of the two crimes? The scriptwriter sure seem to disagree and the film forges on, practically breaking it’s own back trying to paint Leatherface and the Sawyers the victims in this mess, painting everyone Heather knows as irredeemable shit heads who deserve to be sawn in half just so it can justify it’s laughable ending. The chase scenes are dumb too: watch in awe at the stupidity as Heather attempts to escape her cannibalistic cousin by clinging tenaciously to a big wheel at a fairground only for Leatherface to patiently wait for her to get lowered down the other side, or the hapless officer who searches Leatherface’s lair with no backup whatsoever by the light of a facetime call. No radio OR flashlight? That’s one shitty police force but it’s probably what you get when your mayor lists mass murder on his accomplishments.
And so the screw ups continue to come thick and fast and would likely kill someone outright if they were to translate it into a drinking game. Unconvincing wigs are wedged under stetsons to mark the passing of time, the town has the most ineffectual police chief I’ve have ever seen, Leatherface looks AWFUL, is oddly trim (maybe he’s got some zumba tapes stashed in his basement) and his last act switch to hero is so baffling it could cause a stroke in the elderly.
Recognizable faces Alexandra Daddario (who does nothing much but scream and show her midriff like she’s presenting for a mate) and Scott Eastwood (whose villainous character is all but abandoned for a future storyline that never appeared) try to hold down the fort alongside the appearance of Trey Songz of all people but the hysteria inducing ending where Heather and Leatherface, who have made up and are friends now, essentially are now housemates like some mentally challenged, human flesh eating sitcom.
It’s a unbelievably terrible moment in a feature film full of them that’s only worth watching to see how much uncontrollable, unintentional laughter it drags from you during it’s suprisingly long 92 minutes.