Grave desecrations in rural Texas has Sally Hardesty and her wheelchair-bound brother Franklin checking to make sure their grandfather’s final resting place is undisturbed. Along for the trip are a trio of friends who definitely belong to the decade. Content that the grave is fine, the group head on out in their van and come across a hitchhiker. Much like any hitchhiker on the backroads of Texas, this one is a former employee at the local slaughterhouse and is a few cards short of a full deck. Discomfort with the mental state of their guest (cutting yourself and talking about slaughtering livestock never really warms up strangers to your presence, trust me) eventually leads to Franklin getting his arm sliced by the lunatic before they throw him out of their van. After they calm down and attempt to fill their tank at the local gas station/barbecue, the owner lets them know that there’s no gas available and their won’t be until the transport truck arrives tomorrow. Without much of an option, the gang travel over to the old family home and camp there for the night. Even if it weren’t a legendary genre flick, I’m pretty sure you would be able to figure out where this is going. Turns out the dilapidated Hardesty home has some neighbors and one of those neighbors is a very big man who wears a mask made from human skin. Leatherface (aptly named) and his kin manage to cut down the ranks of the interlopers until Sally is the last one standing… barely. It’s revealed what they are doing with the human meat they have and our traumatized hero is brought to one of the most horrifying dinners ever caught on camera. Hopefully she can somehow manage to escape before she feeds a clan of human-eating weirdos. You can feel the August heat through the opening stretch as our protagonists go about their business unaware of just how unfair and cruel the universe is about to be. One moment of curiosity leads to the revelation of what waits behind a metal door (still one of the best shock reveals in cinema) and then all Hell breaks loose. Using the horrific findings of Wisconsin’s Ed Gein as its inspiration and building an incredibly disturbing urban legend around it, all these years later and TCM still stands as one of the most intense horror films to ever do it… budget be damned! Tobe Hooper’s unrelenting masterpiece plays a brilliant trick upon its audience. A masterful blending of sound design and pacing is used to convince the viewer they have seen way more than they have. Let’s face it, the title alone has you preparing for the worst. It’s somehow a visceral film without really dwelling on any of the viscera. My first viewing, decades ago in an empty house well after bedtime, was sprinkled with constantly reminding myself to breathe while sitting on the edge of my seat. The message stands; in a callous and unconcerned universe, our egos mean nothing and we’re all just meat.
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