I'm going to come right out and say it - understanding this is heresy to some purists - Texas Chainsaw Massacre part 2 is my favorite Chainsaw film. It has been since the first time I saw it. Now, I'm not positing the idea that one is better than the other; as you pointed out, Orlando, they are very very different films. Part 2 just had that wonderfully dark humor that really connected with me. It was a shock, at first. Like most folks, I was expecting, more or less, a continuation of the first film, in tone, tenor, and narrative. But I got none of those things, and I have to say I had to pick my jaw up off the floor during that final scene where she's spinning round and round, revving the chainsaw - and planting the idea that she might just turn up as the next in the Leatherface line, via trauma adoption. That opener, where the naïve spoiled rich kids - suffering from the misbegotten idea that they're tough because of the silver spoons lodged firmly in their gilded mouths - get attacked by Chop Top and Nubbins, was the most brutal thing I had seen, up to that point. It was wonderfully filmed, wonderfully lit, and wonderfully choreographed on that old bridge. It was a churning, smoking, brutal strike against the establishment, as Stretch would later represent, before 'seeing the light' and turning against the very establishment from which she sprang, even if that establishment was only a local radio station. When Dennis Hopper turned up to inspect the aftermath, I remember thinking he was an odd casting choice, until he started to become utterly unraveled in the, uh, chainsaw store - which I suppose might exist somewhere, although I can't say I've ever seen one. He was another piece of the establishment, a rational lawman turned to utterly feral lawlessness. Hopper's character has a bit of his River's Edge persona, even though they come from oppositional worlds, with feet planted firmly on distinctly different sides of the law. Both of Hopper's characters, from the River's Edge and TCM part 2, have the scent of death about them, and the slow martial beat of the encroaching end, providing the backbeat to their performances. One cannot escape the in-your-face commentary on the Antebellum south, on the deep dark cancerous thoughts and emotions that some still cling to, despite the rest of the world having moved on. It's the anger of a people, who still, in some instances, feel oppressed, that their rebel ancestors were in the right and the union was in the wrong. After the civil war, many southerners struggled, and some pulled away from conventional society. They were the poor and disenfranchised, and it was their sons who were drafted into pointless and immoral wars, such as Korea and Vietnam, destroying their health and their sanity, rendering them mad. The rotting, decrepit park in which they lived, its better days now framed by its present ruins, represented the Sawyer's (implying their violence had descended so far back in time that, to saw had become the family's destiny, giving them their surname) reality, right down to the schizophrenic lighting and the tunnels they raced through like rats. How we see Stretch at the end, is what happens when those two realities clash, and Tobe Hooper doesn't tell us who was the ultimate victor. Was it the violence that overtook Stretch and reduced her sanity to a primal state? Or the transformative ecstasy of the victory of good over evil, of the heroine overcoming impossible odds? But at what cost? Hooper leaves that question with us. Which is it? The lady or the tiger? And how do we know which is which?
Just found your channel today. Hoping it blows up... you've got good insight and knowledge. Appreciate the review without being too wordy.
I appreciate that, thank you.
For those who grew up with 80s horror, it definitely evokes a sense of nostalgia.
😊😀🙂😃
I'm going to come right out and say it - understanding this is heresy to some purists - Texas Chainsaw Massacre part 2 is my favorite Chainsaw film. It has been since the first time I saw it. Now, I'm not positing the idea that one is better than the other; as you pointed out, Orlando, they are very very different films. Part 2 just had that wonderfully dark humor that really connected with me. It was a shock, at first. Like most folks, I was expecting, more or less, a continuation of the first film, in tone, tenor, and narrative. But I got none of those things, and I have to say I had to pick my jaw up off the floor during that final scene where she's spinning round and round, revving the chainsaw - and planting the idea that she might just turn up as the next in the Leatherface line, via trauma adoption.
That opener, where the naïve spoiled rich kids - suffering from the misbegotten idea that they're tough because of the silver spoons lodged firmly in their gilded mouths - get attacked by Chop Top and Nubbins, was the most brutal thing I had seen, up to that point. It was wonderfully filmed, wonderfully lit, and wonderfully choreographed on that old bridge. It was a churning, smoking, brutal strike against the establishment, as Stretch would later represent, before 'seeing the light' and turning against the very establishment from which she sprang, even if that establishment was only a local radio station. When Dennis Hopper turned up to inspect the aftermath, I remember thinking he was an odd casting choice, until he started to become utterly unraveled in the, uh, chainsaw store - which I suppose might exist somewhere, although I can't say I've ever seen one. He was another piece of the establishment, a rational lawman turned to utterly feral lawlessness.
Hopper's character has a bit of his River's Edge persona, even though they come from oppositional worlds, with feet planted firmly on distinctly different sides of the law. Both of Hopper's characters, from the River's Edge and TCM part 2, have the scent of death about them, and the slow martial beat of the encroaching end, providing the backbeat to their performances.
One cannot escape the in-your-face commentary on the Antebellum south, on the deep dark cancerous thoughts and emotions that some still cling to, despite the rest of the world having moved on. It's the anger of a people, who still, in some instances, feel oppressed, that their rebel ancestors were in the right and the union was in the wrong. After the civil war, many southerners struggled, and some pulled away from conventional society. They were the poor and disenfranchised, and it was their sons who were drafted into pointless and immoral wars, such as Korea and Vietnam, destroying their health and their sanity, rendering them mad. The rotting, decrepit park in which they lived, its better days now framed by its present ruins, represented the Sawyer's (implying their violence had descended so far back in time that, to saw had become the family's destiny, giving them their surname) reality, right down to the schizophrenic lighting and the tunnels they raced through like rats. How we see Stretch at the end, is what happens when those two realities clash, and Tobe Hooper doesn't tell us who was the ultimate victor. Was it the violence that overtook Stretch and reduced her sanity to a primal state? Or the transformative ecstasy of the victory of good over evil, of the heroine overcoming impossible odds?
But at what cost?
Hooper leaves that question with us.
Which is it? The lady or the tiger?
And how do we know which is which?
I would say came out a warrior tiger. Stretch is one of the all-time great final girls.