Color, 1986, 100m.
Directed by Tobe Hooper
Starring Dennis Hopper, Caroline Williams, Jim Siedow, Bill Moseley, Bill Johnson, Ken Evert
Scream Factory (Blu-ray) (US RA HD), Arrow Films (Blu-ray) (UK RB HD), MGM (Blu-ray & DVD) (US R0 HD/NTSC) / WS (1.85:1) (16:9)
Twelve years after the massive commercial success of The Texas Chain Saw Masscre, director Tobe Hooper returned to his old stomping grounds for the inevitable sequel courtesy of an unexpected company: Cannon Films, who had been ripping up the box office with Chuck Norris and Charles Bronson hits and even courting respectability with the Oscar-nominated Runaway Train. Following the successful but controversial Poltergeist, Hooper entered into a multi-film deal with Cannon, with this film falling in between a pair of ambitious and completely insane sci-fi films, Lifeforce and Invaders from Mars. Cannon had high hopes for this sequel (which switches Chainsaw to a single word), and press coverage heavily emphasized the participation of both makeup effects maestro Tom Savini and acclaimed screenwriter L.M Kit Carson (Paris, Texas), as well as the film's proclaimed desire to make satirical mincemeat of the selfish yuppie generation. That last aspect was almost entirely removed from the final product, but the result was still a surprising mixture of extreme black comedy and baroque horror that confused many fans at the time but soon accounted for its substantial cult following. Increasibgly, the film also earned an X rating from the MPAA so staunch they insisted there was no coherent way to cut it down, and censorship hassles plagued it in many other countries as well (with many outright banning it). The unrated theatrical release proved to be a disappointment at the box office, but the film has since become warmly regarded by horror buffs with a reputation that seems to get better every year.
with strange incidents of people vanishing in the more remote areas of Texas. The crisis hits a fever pitch when two obnoxious yuppies are attacked by a marauding truck, and the entire ordeal is heard through a cell phone by radio DJ "Stretch" Block (Williams, giving one of the best scream queen performances of the decade). Meanwhile Lieutenant "Lefty" Enright (Hopper) has had enough with the law's incompetence and decides to hunt down the cannibalistic clan himself. Leatherface makes an appearance at Stretch's radio station, along with his manic Vietnam Vet accomplice, Chop Top (Moseley). However, thanks to a crafty bit of manipulation by Stretch, Leatherface realizes his chainsaw might have other uses than carving flesh... The whole twisted scenario winds up at a massive underground, bone-laden hideout where the family, led by the first film's Cook (Siedow), has constructed a profitable chili business selling fresh, peculiar meat products.
thanks to the brilliant folks at now-defunct Cannon, this film suffered from literally having script pages stuffed under doors every night during shooting. Under the circumstances, Hooper and Carson pull out a few showstopping sequences and some hilarious one liners, mostly from Moseley in a scene-stealing performance that has to be seen to be believed. The film's third act can't help but suffer from its repetitive scenes of people (one of them noticeably lacking skin) sulking around underground, but it manages to rally up again for a memorably daring finale that plays a game of explosion interruptus and makes especially memorable use of the Texas flag for its final shot. A major factor in the film's current popularity may also be the fate of the franchise in the following years, with some inferior sequels and a wholesale, multi-film desecration from Platinum Dunes in the '00s making it clear just how daring and ahead of its time Hooper's choices here really were. Weirdly enough, this film was also ripped off wholesale in the Platinum Dunes remake of Friday the 13th courtesy of the underground lair and maniac seduction scene, which has to be one of the more peculiar examples of genre plagiarism in recent
memory.
Red Shirt Pictures with Leatherface stunt man Bob Elmore, who ended up acting some of the more indelible scenes in the film (sometimes in unbearably humid weather), has some pretty revealing stories about hauling
around that heavy chainsaw and doing the dance scene with Williams. The 29-minute "Still Feelin' th Buzz" features an insightful appraisal of the film's charms by Stephen Thrower, who's always worth watching. However, the main reason to grab this release for Region B-capable fans in the second disc, an amazing treasure trove of Hooper's early work. What's on it? Hooper's silent (music-only) 1965 short "The Heisters," the very elusive counterculture feature Eggshells from 1971 (which is pretty incredible if you love experimental films from this era, with lots of visual motifs that would be explored in 'Saw), an audio commentary for the feature with Hooper and Louis Black, a High Rising video interview with Hooper about his cinematic salad days, and a hefty trailer reel for pretty much everything Hooper directed up until his more recent straight-to-video work. The first limited edition also comes with a 100-page bound book with essays by John Kenneth Muir, Joel Harley, and Calum Waddell.
ootage, the discarded
opening title sequence, and the familiar 11 minutes of deleted scenes.OLDER HD TRANSFER FRAME GRABS