SHITTY FLICKS: TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE: THE NEXT GENERATION

Shitty Flicks is an ongoing column that celebrates the most hilariously incompetent, amusingly pedestrian, and mind-bogglingly stupid movies ever made by people with a bit of money, some prior porn-directing experience, and no clue whatsoever. It is here you will find unrestrained joy in movies meant to terrify and thrill, but instead poke at your funny bone with their weird, mutant camp-girl penis.

WARNING: I tend to give away major plot points and twist endings in my reviews because, whatever. Shut up.

Usually it takes until the eighth chapter of any infamous horror franchise to be downright ridiculously and absurdly bad. Your lead antagonist can suddenly do anything, whether it's take Manhattan, appear in a webcam show broadcasting within their old home, or even haunt a website, or something.

We lucked out with this one, however. While it is only the fourth entry in the long running Leatherface saga - a sequel/re-imagining of the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre starring Matthew McConaughey and Renée Zellwegger - it's so insane that even Ed Gein was quoted has having said, "Jesus, I used to fry vaginas like eggs and even I'm weirded out."

So, okay - Chainsaw 4 starring two competent actors. What could go wrong?

Everything. Or nothing. It depends on how shitty your taste is.

It's prom night! The movie hasn’t even tried to suck yet, and it already does, setting its series of events on the most over-used night of terror of all time, even more so than those random unlucky Fridays.

Mousey Jenny (Renée Zellwegger) hastily applies her make-up before being carted off to the prom by her equally flavorless date. The two have their pictures taken, as the now-famous picture-taking sound effects used so effectively during the opening of the original movie are layered over the scene.

Upon arriving, there is almost instant drama: Jenny’s good buddy, Heather, has misplaced her boyfriend, Barry.

Oh, there he is: necking with a girl that’s not Heather. In response, Heather flips out and steals Barry’s car, which she drives around the parking lot before he catches up and climbs in.

“Guys need sex. If we don’t get it, you can get ‘prostrate’ cancer,” he claims. Luckily, mousey Jenny, who was in the back seat the whole time with her date, pipes up:

“That’s not true.”

During this scene, we learn so much exposition about everyone that it’d be easier to just take notes:

Jenny is quiet, plain, and sexually repressed. She does not have much of a social life, unless she is with her plain date, Sean.

Heather is really, really, dumb, and while seemingly a floozy, will not have sex with Barry. Heather routinely says dumb things, like “I just thought of something so cool. What if we got into a wreck and crashed into a car in front of us and we all died? They could write a song about it.”

Barry is the biggest asshole in the world. Literally. And when Heather says things, he says, “Shut up.”

Sean and Barry used to be friends when they were little, until Barry got “too cool” aka too huge an asshole. Sean is also a pothead.

That’s about it for development.

Gary, the prom night photographer, specialized in bringing out each couple's raw emotions.

The kids continue to drive, even though it’s painfully obvious there is no destination. At no point does anyone ask, “Where are we going?” or “Can we turn around and go home/back to the prom/to somewhere with lights and paved roads?”

“There’s no place to turn around, there’s NEVER a place to turn around, THIS SUCKS,” oozes Barry, insinuating he’s caught in this kind of predicament every night.

By the time someone does come up with the genius idea of leaving the area, another car comes out of nowhere and smashes into them.

“I’m not hurt,” says the other driver, and then falls down, hurt. 

Jenny begins the hike to find some help along with Heather and Barry, leaving Sean at the wreck to wait for…something.

The kids stumble into a small office hosted by Darla, a dumb secretary, and the following bewildering dialogue takes place:

Heather: [concerned] Call the police. There’s been a horrible accident. A man is dying!

Darla: [overjoyed] Prom night!

Heather: [mindlessly] Someone bring me a glass of water, please?

Darla tries to call someone named Vilmer, and when she catches Jenny looking at her allegedly large breasts (we’re never given an establishing shot, which is something people called “directors” usually do), she coos, “phony as three dollar bills!”

Why is there such a lack of care for anyone or anything in this weird alternate universe known as Texas?

Darla continues to talk about her breasts as she waits for Vilmer to answer the phone. He eventually does, and she gives him directions on where to find the wreck and the dying kid. Then she hangs up and immediately asks, “Why do blondes stick their heads out of car windows?”

No, seriously—what is this? What is going on?

Why doesn’t she care about the dying kid?

Why don’t these kids care that Darla doesn’t care about the dying kid?

Why do the kids ALL LAUGH TOGETHER when Heather doesn’t get the joke?

Why would this film’s director go out of his way to “re-aimagine” the first Chainsaw film as a stupid, stupid, stupid movie?

Before anyone knows what to do next, a rock flies through the window, which Darla blames on “some farmer’s wife.” She rushes to the window and yells at the vandalizers:

“Read ‘em and weep!”

And we finally see those breasts; bare, glorious, and brandished in the night.

Back with Sean, Vilmer shows up to assess the situation. Oh, Matthew McConaughey. It’s about time. This movie needs a new kind of insanity.

Vilmer checks the boy, says he’s dead, stares hard at Sean when the boy who denies Vilmer’s diagnosis, and then promptly snaps the boy’s neck.

“He’s dead now!”

Oh, Vilmer.

Sean flees in terror as Vilmer looks disappointed. Vilmer easily catches up in his truck.

“Please mister, you’re scaring me!” Sean cries. He attempts to flee again, but Vilmer effortlessly runs him down with his truck. He puts on a cassette tape of rock and then rolls back and forth over the boy as I guess we're horrified? Or amused?

Something.

Meanwhile, Heather and Barry chase down a passing car to get some help, which Jenny refuses to do, citing the possibility of getting arrested for trespassing. Arrested by police officers. That would suck, right? Especially when you’re trying to find some.

We’re twenty minutes in, and I’m already exhausted.

Jenny continues on the road by her lonesome, her only company a flashlight. A bag flies in her face and she gets scared.

Hey Jenny, might you spare some bag so I can end my life?

Heather and Barry find an old farmhouse, and they knock on the door intending to ask for a ride. When no one answers, Barry goes around back as Heather sits her not-so-bright ass on the front porch swing.

A dark, hulking figure in an apron shows up and starts touching Heather’s hair from behind. After a few rounds of this, Heather turns and sees the toucher: Leatherface!

Heather does a round of the usual shrieking and tries to flee, but Leatherface grabs her and stuffs her in a freezer inside the house.

And guess who doesn’t lock that freezer?

Leatherface.

Heather bursts out almost immediately, and Leatherface freaks out and stuffs her back in.

Thanks for that scene.

During all this, Barry has run afoul of his own nemesis: a shotgun toting, famous quote-spewing redneck. Barry tries to lie his way out of being killed and it barely works. He locks the redneck out of his own house and wanders around inside, searching for Heather, not the least bit concerned someone is trying to shoot him.

Thankfully, Leatherface is still inside and easily dispatches Barry with his big awesome hammer. Heather also takes this opportunity to free herself from the freezer, AGAIN, but Leatherface picks her up and plops her on a meat hook.

Oh no, the end of Heather!

No, wait—it’s not. She’ll be back. Again and again.

Vilmer picks up Jenny by the side of the road under the guise of giving her a lift to help. He starts harassing her almost immediately. The two exchange completely unrealistic dialogue before Jenny sees Sean’s body in the back seat and throws herself out of the truck. Another truck/foot race takes place until Vilmer cackles and leaves her behind, telling her to “live and learn.”

"I HAVE IDEA-AAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

Leatherface pops out of nowhere with his chainsaw and a chase begins. Jenny runs until she finds the farmhouse, running inside and procuring a gun from a dead cop before throwing herself from the top window onto the roof. Leatherface follows, and Jenny smartly climbs to the top of the TV antenna.

One quick swipe from the chainsaw makes short work of the antenna and Jenny plummets to the ground, which she deserves.

And everything is suddenly quiet.

No chainsaw, no shrieking man child, no nothing.

Oh wait, there he is.

More running, more screaming, more revving of saws.

Jenny finds herself back at Darla’s office, and Darla calls good old W.E. to come pick her up. W.E. shows up pretty quickly with a sack in which to stuff Jenny.

So, wait... Was Darla being an antagonist supposed to be shocking? Because the movie sure wants you to think that.

W.E. stuffs Jenny in the sack, hits her with a stick, and then tazers her.

“I’m going to pick up pizza,” Darla says, and leaves.

In the drive-in line, Darla flirts with the window guy, all the while Jenny screams inside her drunk.

“What’s that?” asks the window guy.

“Wanna come see?” Darla asks, popping the trunk.

“No thanks,” says window guy.

Jesus Christ.

CHAINSAW DANCE PARTY!!

On the way home, Darla sees Heather in the middle of the road.

How’d she get off the hook, you ask?

Beats me.

Beats Heather, too. Darla does, that is. Very, very, very lightly. With a stick. Until Heather asks her to stop.

Darla relents, acting as if she actually cares.

“Don’t go crawlin’ off,” she reasons, and then fucking just leaves her in the road, not at all worried that someone else might come along and find her and have her and her whole screaming family arrested and tried for murder.

Darla makes it home, and Leatherface, dressed as an old woman, bursts out of the front door being zapped by W.E. Leatherface gathers up the Jenny sack and carries her inside.

Jenny and Vilmer are finally officially introduced.

Vilmer goes out for a bit, but then comes back with Heather. Yep, she’s still alive! He smashes her face and down she goes. Again.

And again, she continues to be alive.

Darla takes Jenny to clean her up a bit, and then regales her with the “people” that Vilmer works for: a team of shadowy, Big Brother-type people who monitor certain situations for God knows what reason. They also killed Kennedy.

Are you terrified?

Darla bursts in and catches Vilmer about to molest Jenny, and a huge fight ensues. Jenny takes this time to procure a large shotgun. Everyone lies down on the floor except for Vilmer, who unzips his shirt and dares her to shoot, in order to prove he’s really as insane as it’s pretty apparent he is. Then he steps on Darla’s throat, because whatever. Why not? His remote-controlled leg braces give him the feet force of a cyborg, and Darla begins to freak out. During this, Jenny tries to gather up Heather, but she’s too dumb and hurt to move.

Jenny flees and Vilmer follows close behind, jumping on the roof of her getaway car. Jenny crashes and Vilmer gathers his prize. Again. And around and around we go.

Meanwhile, Leatherface dresses up like his idea of an attractive woman, as Darla and Vilmer have a frantic, dirty-looking make-out session in the kitchen. Darla snatches one of Vilmer’s leg remotes and uses it against him, which I guess really turns him on. (Get it?)

Later, everyone gathers together, and they sit down to have some dinner. I think we all know where this is heading: a re-enactment of the original film’s genuinely disturbing dinner table scene, only this time with the guy from Fool's Gold.

Jenny flips out and yells at Vilmer, who strikes W.E. in the head for no reason. The previously-vegetative grandpa gets up and leaves the table.

Can I come where you’re going, gramps?

John Carpenter couldn't believe he got out of bed for this.

Vilmer sets Heather on fire and throws her against the wall and everyone starts screaming.

But she’s still alive.

Just before dinner gets to be too awkward, Rothman, the shadowy, Big Brother-type man Darla had talked, about shows up. This Jon Favreau-looking man disciplines Vilmer, telling him that he “wants people to know the meaning of horror.”

Why?

Who knows?

Rothman begins licking Jenny’s face and showing her his stomach that appears to have a patchwork of self-imposed scars and piercings. He leaves, and Vilmer crushes Heather’s head with his robofoot.

And she’s actually dead now.

He takes out his trusty razor and begins slicing up his own body as Leatherface screams and Darla begs him to stop.

Screaming and screaming everyone is doing. And I am, too. For mercy.

Jenny escapes as Leatherface, who really has had shit to do in this movie, follows close behind. 

"Get her, Leather!” screams Vilmer before screaming his own name.

Enter the Spottishes, the best part of this movie!

Mr. and Mrs. Spottish, a delightful elderly couple in their RV, are enjoying a nice drive. Jenny, still fleeing from Leatherface, ends up running right across their path in the road.

“There’s a monster chasing her with a chainsaw!” Mrs. Spottish shouts, pulling Jenny on board. “Step on it, Mr. Spottish!” (The best line in cinema history.)

Vilmer then shows up in his trusty truck with Leatherface swinging his chainsaw at the RV until the drivers freak out and flip their vehicle. Jenny escapes from the wreck unscathed and flees across a field. A nearby crop-dusting plane figures it’ll intervene and dive-bombs Vilmer, giving him a good chop with its propeller. 

Leatherface begins shrieking like a little bitch as Jenny hops into Rothman’s suddenly-appearing limo.

Rothman begins to apologize for his failed “spiritual experience” and peppers it with random French bullshit.

“Fuck you,” Jenny says, as weakly as I feel.

At the hospital, a police officer (‘Grandpa’ from the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre) asks Jenny several questions while a fat orderly (Franklin from the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre) wheels a gurney by with a crazy woman (Sally from the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre) strapped to it.

See? Because the guy who actually brought you this atrocity WROTE the original film, which is groundbreaking, terrifying, and a genuine classic. So I guess The Next Generation is good, too, for that reason. You know, by default.

Right?

UNSUNG HORRORS: FRAILTY

Every once in a while, a genuinely great horror movie—one that would rightfully be considered a classic, had it gotten more exposure and love at the box office—makes an appearance. It comes, no one notices, and it goes. But movies like this are important. They need to be treasured and remembered. If intelligent, original horror is supported, then that's what we'll begin to receive, in droves. We need to make these movies a part of the legendary genre we hold so dear. Because these are the unsung horrors. These are the movies that should have been successful, but were instead ignored. They should be rightfully praised for the freshness and intelligence and craft that they have contributed to our genre.

So, better late than never, we’re going to celebrate them now… one at a time.

Dir. Bill Paxton
2001
Lionsgate Films
United States

“I cannot imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of his creation and is but a reflection of human frailty.”

— Albert Einstein

Frailty is a sobering look at the impact of religion on the American family. On its surface it’s about demons that may or may not exist, and one man’s belief that he was chosen to slay them with God-given weapons. But at its core it’s about the family unit. It’s about a man and his two sons, and how they are torn apart when one son follows the father, and one does not. And who is right? The son who follows unconditionally, or the son who questions orders and rebels at all costs? The movie is about free will verses destiny. It’s about knowing when to think for yourself, and when to recognize that you’ve become a man. And it’s about realizing everything you know is wrong.

There’s a scene in the beginning of the film where the family sits down to share dinner together. The younger son spoons a large helping of peas onto his plate.

Dad exclaims, “Whoa, Tiger! Save some for us!”

“I sure love peas!” the son shouts.

“I bet! You better be careful or you’ll turn into one!” Dad replies.

Yes, the dialogue exchange is unbearable corny and clichéd. You may even roll your eyes, and that’s fine. That's the point. It’s supposed to come across that way. The filmmakers are willing to embarrass themselves by showing you that this is a typical, American, drama-free, completely undiluted, and ably functioning family. There is not even a hint of something dark and seedy simmering under the surface. Dad is normal. The kids are normal. Life is…normal.

Until God talks to Dad...

It’s a fierce, black, rainy night when Fenton Meiks (Matthew McConaughey) confesses to FBI Agent Wesley Doyle (Powers Boothe) that he knows the identity of the serial murderer plaguing rural Texas who the media has dubbed the God’s Hands killer. Fenton confesses that it’s his own brother, Adam, who earlier in the night took his life because he couldn’t stand what he had become. Being that Fenton has stolen the ambulance containing his brother’s dead body and driven it directly to the FBI headquarters in Dallas, Agent Doyle is understandably wary of anything Fenton might have to tell him. But as the night grows late, Fenton reenacts the past for Agent Doyle, explaining that the events that led up to this night were set in motion long ago…by the boys’ father.

In this past, Bill Paxton plays Dad, the aforementioned father of two sons: Fenton (Matt O’Leary) and Adam (Jeremy Sumpter). The boys’ mother died years ago, and so it’s been just the three of them against the world—which suited them fine. As Fenton says in the movie, “we didn’t need anyone else.” Dad worked as a mechanic during the day, but always came home to his sons in the evening and spent as much time with them as he could. Fenton and Adam, separated by only a few years, lived fairly typical lives, though Fenton was tasked with some of the duties his deceased mother likely would have handled (cooking dinner for the family, keeping an extra eye on Adam). The three were close, and despite the loss of their mother, the boys were happy. They went to the movies, laughed about girls throwing up, and did other things brothers/boys do.

It all changes the night Dad wakes them up in the middle of the night and explains to them both that in a strange vision, in which he was visited by an angel, he learns he was chosen by God to slay demons living amongst humanity in human shells. His weapons in this crusade consist of an ax named Otis, a lead pipe, and a pair of work gloves. To determine who is a demon and who is not, he is to lay his hands upon them, and their sins will be revealed.

Understandably, Fenton immediately doubts his father’s claims, wondering if the stress of single-fatherhood has finally taken its toll. Adam, however, is quick to believe; his young age makes him prone to easily accepting such claims, and if his own father believed them, then why shouldn’t he? Why would his own father lie to him?

The hunt soon begins. Dad orders Fenton to take part, and the boy at first refuses…that is until he realizes that he really has no choice. As much as he believes that his father has gone insane, he still loves him and does not want the family to be torn apart.

It all leads to shocking conclusions that cap off the past sequence as well as the present. Additionally, Frailty ends with my favorite kind of twist—which I won’t reveal here. But those who have seen the film know exactly what I mean.

Bill Paxton does a fantastic job with his meaty role in front of the camera. It’s a tough one to pull off, as he has to bring humanity to a role that audiences will have no choice but to vilify and fear almost from the very beginning. To make the role of Dad clearly villainous and cartoonish would have been a disservice to the smart story by the Texas-born Brent Hanley. Of course it would’ve been easy to root against the “antagonist” as he slithers around grinning ear to ear like Nicolas Cage, covered in blood, punctuating each kill with a truly bad pun. But it’s the strength of Paxton as an actor that he can make Dad flawed, human, and sympathetic—all the while making you feel uncomfortable and hesitant whenever he is on screen. (This is something I often bring up in reviews. I always find characters that skirt the line between antagonist and protagonist to be the most interesting, and the role of Dad is no different.) Put yourself in young Fenton’s shoes: how far would you be willing to go to follow your father? For you, what would be the line between real life and insanity? To our eyes, what Dad is doing is clearly wrong, but he doesn’t believe it to be. He believes he is doing God’s work, and it’s because of this that his work is carried out with care and concern. Like Abraham from the Bible, Dad loves his sons more than anything, but it’s the love for his God that will determine his actions.

Matt O’Leary and Jeremy Sumpter do commendable work with their roles. Let’s be honest, child actors are always a gamble. Their inability to grasp the concept of the kind of movie they are making is always reflected in their performance. Luckily, these two know what they’re doing.

O’Learly puts more work and effort into his role than most established adult actors. He sweats and bleeds and suffers with his character—it gets to the point where you wish you could pluck him off the screen just to get him away from all the misery his life has become. The movie rides on his shoulders, and he pulls it off gracefully.

Younger Sumpter, too, has a tough job. He is reciting lines that, at his young age, must have little to no meaning. The real-life complexities of the idea of a “God” and what people who believe in him are willing to do, even things that seemingly violate basic tenets one learns early on in life—it’s a tough thing for even adults to work their mind around, let alone a child of Sumpter’s age. But he plays his part with great confidence and assurance.

The young actors’ chemistry as brothers is believable, and especially in the case of Sumpter, their performances are utterly in line with how real people would react to such a trauma. As Adam begins to follow his father more and more, he, too, does not become comic bookish and antagonistic. He avoids turning into The Bad Seed. Adam wants nothing more than to follow in his father’s footsteps, even going as far as producing his own “demon list” that God allegedly gave to him—filled with the names of people that have bullied him in the past. The scene in which Dad explains the difference between destroying demons and killing people is morbidly funny. From Fenton’s disbelieving point of view, Dad is clearly out of his mind, and so this explanation between destroying demons and killing humans is hypocritical. (Additionally, there is one sequence in the film where Dad is forced to take the life of a human being in order to protect “the mission”—and upon doing so, he immediately vomits and begins to sob as his sons bury the body, lamenting what he was “forced” to do—that he has only just now become a murderer.)

As Fenton suffers through one punishment after another for not following orders, Adam urges his brother to conform—to believe in his family and accept his own responsibility. He does so with the love and admiration a younger brother has for his older. In his mind, Adam is unable to see why Fenton just won’t join them. It’s intelligently and realistically done.

Powers Boothe will always be a dependable bad ass, no matter the role he is playing. And while he might not have much to do during the first 2/3rds of the film, it’s the last act that shows even as someone as deeply intimidating as Boothe can be shaken under the right circumstances. He so rarely gets to play someone with weakness that when it does happen, it makes the events causing his transformation that much more disturbing.

Despite his slew of truly brainless rom-coms, Matthew McConaughey will always be an actor who makes me turn one eye towards whatever project he has in the works. Yes, he’s made a shit-ton of tepid movies (most with Kate Hudson), but his roles in A Time to Kill, Lincoln Lawyer, and even We Are Marshall proves he has the chops to pull off a great performance, so long as he’s got the passion to do so. His role in Frailty is one that’s quite understated, dark, and disconcerting. Like O'Leary, it’s up to him to make this movie work, and it’s because of him that it does. His performance is supposed to make you think he’s insane, but at the same time, possibly telling the truth—all at once. You’re supposed to question what you are seeing and hearing at all times, because as McConaughey looks at you with his thousand-mile stare, and as his eyes shimmer from the appearance of tears despite the lack of emotion on his face, you have to know that there’s something not 100% right about Fenton Meiks. What filmmakers call an unreliable narrator is the one leading us on this journey into the past—so everything you see on screen must be doubted. Nothing is to be believed.

Lastly, we have Otis, who plays the ax. Yes, the odd choice to have a random name carved into the ax's handle might seem erroneous until you realize that the ax really is a character. Never in the movie is it just a random household tool, but rather something that has the power to tear apart whole families. It comes to represent what Fenton believes to be the lie – the insanity – his father insists on perpetuating. 

The direction by Paxton is quite assured for a first time director. Most actors can make that leap successfully and Paxton is no different. The first appearance of the Meiks house – a former and very isolated residence of the gardeners who tended the Thurman Rose Garden, where the bodies of “demons” are soon to be buried – is haunting, nostalgic, and saddening all at once. As the brother burst from the trees and their large, white, farm-style house looms into view, the music (a subtly simmering score by the usually bombastic Brian Tyler) ceases, and the sounds of cicadas fill the screen. It’s perhaps the most beautiful shot in the film—a fuzzily recollected memory from childhood.

Another sequence that deserves special mention is the taking of the second “demon,” where Fenton is forced to play the part of an upset and crying boy whose dog, Trixie, won’t come out from under the demon’s car. What the soon-to-be-victim thinks are tears of sadness coming from this boy are actually from fear, as Fenton knows what’s about to happen.

(As an aside, the movie also makes awesome use of Johnny Cash’s “Peace in the Valley” in two very well done and connected sequences.)

Frailty is a movie whose ending I am desperate to dissect and explain in all kinds of tangential ways why it’s so awesome, but to those who haven’t yet seen this film, I would hate to ruin it. What I can say about Frailty, however, is that above all, it’s terrifying…because it could happen. And it does, every day. Even today entire wars are begun over the belief that God speaks through his followers and orders them to destroy the unclean and the infidel. And really…what’s scarier? Jason Voorhees wielding an ax and coming at you…or your own father killing someone else in front of you as you beg and plead him to stop?

Most films based on faith, religion, and peoples’ ties to both tend to come down on one side of the fence: either religion is good, or bad. Frailty manages to show you that it’s both. It shows you what it’s done to a simple family that, after losing their wife/mother, has already suffered enough. But it also shows you that sometimes you’re right to have faith, and you’re right to follow it, no matter the circumstances.