India Song (1975)

French cinema will sometimes baffle me. I am, in most cases, a huge fan of the in-depth search for humanity inherent in the movies coming from France. The new wave of cinema from France helped to reinvent the way we look at cinema and opened the door to very insightful art all over the world. However, the French will sometimes take their need for innovation too far, making what I feel are a lot of pretentious and boring movies that are made for the entertainment and whims of their directors rather than for an audience that has come to be enlightened and entertained. Marguerite Duras’ 1975 film, “India Song,” is a great example of the tendency for the French to make overblown arty movies made for the sheer sake of showing off. At least, that is how I see it.

Initially, this movie reminded me of Alain Resnais’ “Last Year at Marienbad,” except that movie was a beautiful rendition of a dream or ghost story, while “India Song,” try as it may to suck me in with its elegant cinematography, just left me cold and bored. “India Song” is probably the most boring movie I have ever seen. Similar to Resnais’ film, this movie has characters that move as if in a trance, but unlike the much better movie from 1964, this one never captured my interest through its visuals, no matter how beautiful its visual surface appears or how much the characters seem to move within its tango-inflicted score.

The movie follows the life of the wife of a French ambassador in India, who, through boredom, has many love affairs. The characters in the film are the main character (Dalphine Seyrig), her ambassador husband (Michael Lonsdale), and various lovers. One lover is the attaché from the Austrian Embassy; another is an old friend of her husband; and a third is an anonymous young guest. Most of the action, if one can call it action, occurs at the Embassy in Calcutta during a very restrained party. None of these characters speak throughout the movie, as Durras uses a completely objective narration to explain to us what is happening. The narration is also done in mostly poetic prose, as the characters move slowly to the rhythms of the long, languid shots and passive score. That is also not a constant in the movie, as in one particular case, as the disgraced ambassador is being thrown out of the Embassy, we hear his anguished thoughts as screams. During this scene, I felt a little bit more invested in the story, but only a little, as the rest of the movie continued at the same objective, slow, languid pace as it began.

I imagine that Duras, who grew up in the far east, was interested in showing how alien western civilization is to the eastern world. The off-screen narrating voices often speak of a local beggar who lingers outside of the Embassy, and there seems to be some sort of social comparison made between this beggar and Seyrig’s main character. Both are driven to their doom through different types of boredom that fate has bestowed upon them. Is this philosophical theme enough to hold together two hours of people moving as if in a trance while some off-screen poet narrates their predicament? I do not think so, but some may beg to differ.

Duras does, along with her cinematographer, succeed in some very artistic slow-moving shots that, along with the restrained performances of her cast and the elegant costumes, succeed in portraying a feeling of watching a classic painting. In many scenes, it is as if the characters are posing for a picture. If that was what interested me, there are far better films that do this much better. Kubrick’s “Barry Lyndon,” for example. 

It does not surprise me to know that the entire movie was filmed in France rather than in India. As a movie, there is nothing authentic about “India Song.”  It is a movie that fails to capture interest, has a style that prides itself on being difficult to understand, and is made to make its director feel smart while completely ignoring its audience. If you succeed in staying awake throughout its two-hour viewing time, give yourself a pat on the back.

Nashville (1975)

With his 1970 film, “M*A*S*H”, Robert Altman created the ensemble cast movie style in which an ensemble cast replace lead characters in movies.   In 1975, he went one step further by using the same premise to portray an epic mosaic of interrelated characters five days before a political rally in Nashville, Tennessee.     Since Nashville is the country music capital of the world, music, or more specifically, the country music industry becomes an important aspect to the themes of the movie.  Themes that portray the dark sides of American culture and politics, such as greed, ambition, politics and most particularly, celebrity.

Taking place in Nashville, a few days before a large political rally of a radical and surprisingly successful third party candidate for the US Presidency, the plot includes the actions of 24 main characters, ranging from famous singers, up-and-coming stars, a chauffeur driver, a political publicist, aspiring singers both talented and not talented, a British documentary filmmaker, a celebrity lawyer, a celebrity manager who is married to a celebrity, an elderly man dreading the death of his sick wife, a psychopath and many more.    The movie begins in a recording studio where a major and established star played by Henry Gibson is recording a new song and ends at a large political rally that features a concert with the same singer.   In between, all the characters intermingle and react to each other, as they all end up at the rally in the movie’s powerful ending.   

Every single one of the 24 performances is terrific and special mention needs to be made to a few.  Gibson who, before this film, was a minor comedian, swings between narcissism, cruelty and sympathy without missing a beat.   His character at the outset seems selfish and vindictive, but he succeeds in creating a character arc that allowed me to feel empathy for what it is like living within the established music industry, which is shown to be cutthroat and insensitive.   There is also nothing humorous about his character, making his performance that much more surprising.   Another even more established comedienne is Lily Tomlin, and she is terrific in an equally somber, unhumorous role as the gospel singer who is not only the mother of two deaf children, but also the husband of the uninterested celebrity lawyer (Ned Beaty).   Tomlin shows terrific range in the movie and has two of the most poignant scenes in the film.  One where she listens to a swimming pool story told in sign language by her son and another when she sits transfixed and sad in an audience watching the handsome and promiscuous up-and-coming folk singer (Keith Carradine) sing a song that she thinks is directed only at her (which it is not).   The first scene is one of the most heartfelt in the movie and the latter one of the saddest.    Tomlin’s character, while short on dialogue, is rich in expression, and she knocks it out of the park.    Also of note is the standout performance of Ronee Blakley as the most successful of the famous singers who has just recovered from a tragic accident and is neurotic.    I thought it was very clever for Altman and his screenwriters to make the most famous and successful character also the least stable.  There are many other well-thought-out characters that make this one of the most colorful of movies.   

Robert Altman was the most European of all the American directors who came of the new Hollywood from the 70s, and his movies remind me a lot of the French new wave.   This movie, especially, as, “Nashville”, is a character-driven rather than plot-driven film that uses its camera to follow not one particular person during each scene, but a group of characters that exist seemingly to create the reality that is the country music capital of the world.   This is the movie that finally took Altman’s famous use of overlapping dialogue to its highest level.   With so many different characters to be interested in, and only 2.5 hours to show, the vast depth of dialogue is essential here, and Altman hits his stride with his ability to allow his camera to follow the important pieces of what is being said.   This allowed me to be invested in each of the 24 main characters, which is an amazing feat.  The movie owes a great debt to the musicals of Jacques Demy with the way the camera follows a character and then abruptly takes its aim at another one going in a different direction.    The movie also has the heart of Truffaut with its ability to make me care about so many characters.    Truffaut’s, “Day for Night”, while much kinder than this film, immediately comes to mind while watching this movie.   There, as well as here, there were numerous characters within one framework who never behaved the best, while retaining their humanity, making me care about each of them or at least empathize with each of them.   

Altman has said that at least one hour of the movie’s 2.5 hour running time is made up of musical performances.   He also asked each of his singing actors to write and then perform their own original pieces.  It is hard for me to give an honest critical opinion on the music, since country and Western is probably one of the two musical styles that I dislike the most.   If there is only one song within the movie that truly stands out, that would be Keith Carradine’s “I’m Easy”, which won him a surprising Academy Award for best song.  That was something that the academy finally got right in that category.   The reason for this is that I believe a best song movie award should always be a song that helps to promote the narrative of the movie, which is exactly what Carradine’s song does.   While performing it he is singing about the unfaithful way that he conquers women, while in the audience there are four separate women that he took to his bed during the movie, and each one of them believes that he is singing to them.  Alongside the almost stargazing looks of those women while he sings, the words take on a whole different meaning.  The scene would be funny if it was not so sad.  

The first half of the movie, for me, was an interesting and enjoyable introduction to all its moving parts, but it is in the last hour that the movie really takes off.   Once I found myself surprisingly taken in by so many different characters, seeing them set themselves up for the epic ending was a pleasure to watch.    The movie ends with a prophetic and harsh societal criticism that I will not ruin for those few who have not watched the movie.  However, I will say that the ending includes one character of a married lady trying to escape her husband while pleading for someone to allow her to sing a song she had written, who finally gets to perform the song.  This scene is so powerful that it reminded me of Kubrick’s poignant ending to, “Paths of Glory” when the poor French girl sings a song of love that brings tears to a crowd of leering soldiers.  In, “Nashville”, this closing song evokes a similar feeling as it transfixes the world and stops a feeling of tragedy, if only for the moment that the song is in the air.   

As a vehicle for powerful ensemble acting, Altman’s, “Nashville” is second to none.   It is, however, even greater than that commendable feat.   This is a movie about American culture and it’s not a pretty sight.   Almost all the characters in the film use somebody else to that person’s detriment and for their own benefit.   They bring about behaviors that are driven by the need to be heard, whether through politics or entertainment.   Why do so many Americans want to be famous, and why are they seeking out such callous fake love?   That is the question asked by Altman in his movie.  This is a great director at his peak and “Nashville” is not only his masterpiece but one of the greatest movies ever made.  

Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

Sidney Lumet’s, “Dog Day Afternoon”, opens with a montage of actual footage taken of a typical morning in Brooklyn, New York that is a pitch perfect introduction to a true-crime story that occurred only two years prior to when the movie was made.   It is not only a movie about a botched amateurish bank robbery attempt, but a modern-day parable on American society that is as topical today as it was in 1975.   Maybe even more today than it was when it first came out.

The movie is based on a real-life attempted robbery and hostage situation led by John Wojtowicz.   Due to a disagreement with Wojtowicz, the producers never received his approval and based their script on the Life magazine article, “The Boys in the Bank”.    For this reason, the names of all the living protagonists were changed.   In the role of the Wojtowicz-based character, Sonny Wortzik, Al Pacino gives one of his top five performances.    This is a movie filled with sad humor and the film’s introduction to our criminals starts it all off when one of Sonny’s two accomplices, Stevie, immediately gets cold feed and leaves the bank.  Before he leaves, Sonny asks him to give him their getaway car keys, to which he responds, “How am I gonna get home?  Sonny’s remaining accomplice, carrying a scary looking assault rifle, is Sal (John Cazale in a stunning performance), who just happens to be even more clueless than Sonny.  In fact, Sal does not really have a hold on reality.     

The robbery itself goes terribly wrong right from the start, as they rob the bank after most of the bank’s money has already been removed.     The last bit of utter stupidity done by Sonny is his burning of the bank ledgers, seemingly to destroy some sort of document that could be used as evidence on the bills that were being stolen. The smoke of this fire alerts the bank’s neighbors and the police, as very quickly the bank is surrounded by armed police and FBI personnel.    Sonny’s response to this is to hold the 9 employees’ hostage, demanding a helicopter to take him to a jet that will fly him to some other country.   He never really decides what country up until the film’s end, but Sal, who is less intelligent than Sonny, wants to go to the country of Wyoming.   The farcicality of this is beautifully offset by the seriousness of the crime (Sonny threatens to start throwing bodies out of the bank and onto the street).   

Another true real-life aspect to the movie is its portrayal of the media frenzy that ensues during the standoff.    The bank not only draws a large armed police force, but also countless bystanders and hordes of media.   The movie also places an interesting emphasis on the fickle nature of public opinion.  Something that resonates true today.   At first, as Sonny confronts the crowd with the iconic defiant screams of, “Attica Attica”, referring to the police killing of rioting prisoners at the Attica prison that happened the same year.  The crowd is supportive of the bank robbers, but once Sonny’s sexual orientation is revealed through the reason he is robbing the bank (he wants to pay for his boyfriend’s sex change operation), they turn against him, revealing their homophobic sensibilities, which was very prominent in the 70s.    The nice touch that Lumet adds to the film is that this original crowd will then get replaced by a larger more liberal crowd from the LGBT community that are supportive of the crime being committed.   Meanwhile, the TV and regular press have bombarded the bank with everything from telescopic cameras to helicopters.     Lumet, I believe, pays homage to Billy Wilder’s, “Ace in the Hole”, with his depiction of the circus atmosphere created by what should have been a tragic event.

The social messaging distinguished in the movie is aided immensely by the movies humanistic script, and the terrific performances by the entire cast.     Pacino shows in this film that he could play more than just Italian authoritarian characters.    His Sonny is scared, panicky, out of touch with reality and not very smart.  Yet he is full of empathy.    Empathy to not only his dumb-witted accomplice, but also to his hostages, the police, and even the crowd screaming outside.     Sonny talks to himself, makes rash decisions and bonds with his hostages.    On two occasions, two hostages who were given a choice of escaping chose to stay with him.    Here Lumet and his screenwriters gave us a hint about what Patty Hearst syndrome could look like.    This is one movie that really succeeds in pointing out how basic human compassion can overcome even the most extreme circumstances.      This is in large part due to Pacino’s naturalistic portrayal of Sonny. 

He is not the only one who shines in the movie.   In addition to all the actors portraying the hostages, Charles Durning is superb as the police chief, desperate to get through his day without any casualties.   As Sonny’s mentally ill boyfriend Leon, Chris Sarandon gives what I felt was a true performance that keeps his character’s dignity intact while displaying the angst and schizophrenia that is inherent in who Leon is.    The final telephone conversation between Leon and Sonny is one of the highlights of the movie and is poignant in its realistic touch.    Special mention must be made of the performance John Cazale gives as the mentally deficient Sal.   His lack of understanding of where he is, and his predicament makes him the only really dangerous person, yet I find myself caring about him.   Is it his fault that he was born with such a small IQ, and did that happen due to some physical altercation in his past?    These questions are never answered or asked, but Cazale’s portrayal begs a response.   While he is a character who I felt could crack violently at any moment, he also comes across as a scared little boy.    He probably has the IQ of a child, as that is the impression I had.    Cazale was a rare actor who could always disappear into his role.   

Based on a True Story, but without the cooperation of the main protagonist, Lumet and his screenwriters kept most of the events as they were but made some significant changes.     For one, Sonny is portrayed in the movie as a Vietnam War vet, while the real Wojtowicz was never in the army.   This was done to aid in giving empathy to his character.    In addition, the real SAL was only 18 years old, while Cazale’s Sal is in his 30s and mentally deficient.   What remains very true to what actually happened are the negotiations, crowd interactions and anything else Lumet could gather from the historical archives of the event.   The ending is also very much as it occurred.    

By filming realistically and using a free form tracking style for his shots within the bank, Lumet succeeds in creating the feel of what was happening during this small but fascinating event.   He also gets terrific performances from a wonderful cast.  “Dog Day Afternoon” is a courageous movie willing to make us like weak desperate characters and, by doing so the movie allows for an entertaining, insightful look at life.    The movie is not only a great social satire and docudrama, but also a great work of art, and one of Lumet’s best films.

The Travelling Players (O Thiasos) (1975)

The beautiful country of Greece is known as a spectacular and exotic tourist location, and not everyone knows that it went through almost continuous war and political conflict between the years 1939 to 1952.    Of course, World War 2 was a major factor in this.   The great visual director Theodoros Angelopoulos in 1975 addressed this period of strife in his homeland by concentrating on a theatrical troupe traveling through Greece while the world was going crazy around them.  The movie he created was the epic motion picture, “The Travelling Players”.

A travelling theatrical troupe or players are touring their 19th century Greek classic play titled, “Golfo the Shepherdess”, and the movie opens with one of the many long, uninterrupted takes that Angelopoulos is renowned for.   The Troupe arrives in a Greek town and start walking down the street slowly while a car bellows election propaganda supporting the right wing general Papagos from the Greek legislative elections of 1952.   By the time the troupe complete their walk, they find themselves in the middle of the Nazi occupation of Greece sometime between the years 1941 – 1942.     Then, once they arrive, the Troupe leader, Agamemnon joins the military to fight the Italians, placing the period now in 1940.    In this initial set up to the movie, the more the troupe walked, the further they went back in time and, while very confusing for me initially, made more and more sense as the movie’s narrative expanded on the different time periods.    It is this complex time-sharing, slow-moving style that incorporates scenes that seamlessly transition from one period to the next, which worked to completely immerse me into the tone of the location and period depicted in the movie.

“The Travelling Players” is not your typical historical drama, and while its intersecting of time periods throughout its narrative is like Coppola’s “Godfather Part 2”, it’s methods and style are totally different.   Angelopoulos is one of cinema’s great visualists and his movie, at nearly 4 hours in length, is sparse in dialogue, preferring to choreograph long, elegant, encompassing shots that made me feel that I was experiencing what the characters were experiencing.  In addition, all his stunning shots are accompanied by the hypnotic music of the wonderful composer, Loukianos Kilaidonis.    Despite the movies’ long-running time, there are two occasions where Angelopoulos uses the breaking of the 4th wall as characters speak to the viewing audience directly, so as to give historical background information to the story.   I believe he wanted to waste as little screen time as possible in incorporating historical context to the movie, without the use of narration.   The style of the movie comes across as being very theatrical accompanied by visuals that are very cinematic.   The result is a pure original style that is breathtaking to behold.

The plot within itself is not static in any sense as the story, contains. Love, loyalty, betrayal, and tragedy.   These are themes that are in tune with the historical big picture of the Greek period being shown.    After taking its time to immerse its viewer in its location and characters, the movie dwells deeply into the way this all affected the lives of the people who lived through it.  Since a large part of the Greek history shown concerns a bloody civil war, Angelopoulos uses his characters to depict the betrayal and blood feuds that were prevalent in Greece at the time.   For example, Agamemnon is betrayed by his wife and her new lover (and new Troupe leader), while she in turn is betrayed by her children.    The theme of Nazi collaboration is also touched upon during the great famine that occurred in Greece during the occupation, showing this via the younger daughter who prostitutes herself for food.   Torture and rape are also depicted as part of the package that was life during the civil war.   In addition, foreign interference is also touched upon with the depiction of British and Americans forces who were worried that the communists would take over Greece.  There is a brilliant scene where the newly arrived American Forces meet up with the travelling troupe, who introduce them to Greek music and culture by way of a quick impromptu performance of their play, followed by a spontaneous burst of dancing.   

Visually, I was taken aback by this movie.  Other than at the film’s end, this is not a showcase of the sunny beach-laden Greek Islands.    Most of the film takes place in the mountains or rocky shores and during the autumn and winter seasons.   Yet it was clear to me as to how much Angelopoulos loves his country by the way his camera flows along the old buildings, rocky scenery and rugged but expansive land.  Flowing gently through the country with his strange but interesting characters, the movie is a visual feast.   Showing everything in the grayish tones of the colder seasons was a perfect complement to the themes of cruel conflict.  

It takes a special movie to reconstruct a period in our past with not only visual accuracy, but also a melancholy feeling.  Even though I never lived in Greece during the period shown, I felt I knew what it was like to live there through this fascinating time capsule of a film as it engulfed me in its aura.  That is the power of “The Travelling Players”, a timeless masterpiece that resonates with the power of a true artist.   

Barry Lyndon (1975)

In the 18th Century, the world did not have photography to record how the world and life was.   In Europe, this was a period of social injustice and war.   It was up to the great painters and writers of the period to let future generations know how people lived and felt during this important European period.   Stanley Kubrick was not only a great photographer and director, but he was also a superb writer.  In his masterpiece, “Barry Lyndon”, Kubrick absorbed himself into 18th century Europe using the period writings of William Makepeace Thackeray and the stunning artwork of William Hogarth as his guiding light.   In doing so, he created not only one of the greatest windows into a long-gone world, but a stunning work of art in its own right.

The story concerns the life, rise to prominence and eventual downfall of a young ambitious man named Redmond Barry (Ryan O’Neal) who lived in the 18th century British Kingdom of Ireland.   He starts off his adult life as a naïve romantic fool, who quickly learns the harsh reality of a relatively lawless life in the British Kingdom of the period.  Forced to join the British Army while the seven Years’ War raged throughout Europe, he eventually, after being forced to join the Prussian army (an ally of Britain), and becoming a Prussian and then Irish spy, he escapes the military to England where he marries into Royalty and position.    All of this is done with quite a bit of deceit and dishonesty, with a little bit of cruelty added for good measure.   The movie is divided into two sections, with the first one following Barry from his Iris exile, various military adventures, his life as a gambling cheat, and until he meets and marries Lady Lyndon (Marisa Berenson in a thankless role), taking on her title and name.   It is the name of her late husband, who was an invalid and alive when Barry started courting Lady Lyndon.    The 2nd section of the film recalls Barry’s life as an aristocrat.   Of the two sections, it is the first one which has the bulk of the stories adventure, however the 2nd section in its detailed accounting of the empty 17th century aristocratic life is equally fascinating.    

“Barry Lyndon” is one of, if not the most beautiful looking movie I have ever seen.   The cinematography of John Alcott and Kubrick’s direction are exquisite.   Even without a story of depth and feeling, this movie is worth watching just for its images.   By studying the paintings of Hogarth, Kubrick was able to create a window into Hogarth’s world.   Considering that Hogarth drew various series of paintings that dealt with the same themes of the movie, (Life of a prostitute, life of a cheat and the disastrous results of an ill-considered marriage for money), making his movie with the same look as those paintings gives the movie a stunning epic allure.    There are so many gorgeous and lengthy wide-angle long shots that start with the close shot of a character and then slowly pull back to reveal the stunning spacious surroundings, ending in a still scene that is very much like one of those great 18th century paintings we pay to see in famous museums.   This is something that Kubrick played with in his previous film, “A Clockwork Orange”, but perfected it in an exquisite style that never fails to leave me in awe each time I watch the film.     It is well known that Kubrick filmed most of the interior scenes without any artificial lighting, using lit candles instead.   Even when he used film lighting, he did it in a way to replicate the way the candles reflect light.   This had the stunning effect of giving me the feeling that I was watching scenes that happened in the long dead past with a realistic, elegant beauty that once again reflected the same tone as Hogarth’s paintings.    When anyone wants to see an example of how cinema reflects and enhances the art of painting, I always point them to this great film.  

The movie, in its skewered view of pride and nobility, goes into quite a bit of depth on the art of dueling for atonement.  “Barry Lyndon” boasts three-gun duels and one duel of swords.   In fact, the movie opens with a quick, fast duel that results in the death of Barry’s father.     I was made to believe that Barry would have turned out differently if his father had been alive to raise him.     That is the only one of the pistol duels that is quick.  All the rest take their que from the Sergio Leone school of long-drawn-out ceremonies of sudden violence.   Accompanied by the slow, elegant classical music from the same era, these duels were not only striking to look at but very suspenseful as well.   

“Barry Lyndon” is a three-hour period work of visual splendor that is paced deliberately, slowly with an intent for the audience to feel and not just absorb the story.   Kubrick used a third-party narrator in the film, giving the movie the feel of a classic novel.   In almost all cases, this narration will tell the viewer what is about to happen to Barry before it occurs in the movie.   Then the movie slowly, with beautiful scenery, moves the characters to this known conclusion, allowing me as the viewer to truly absorb the emotional beauty of the movie as I waited for the events to reach their conclusion.    The duels are a great example of this.   The narrator foreseeing what is going to happen also allowed me to truly absorb the beauty of the long wide-angle shots so expertly paced to the classic film score.   

On first viewing, many people may be taken aback by the performance of O’Neal in the critical role of Barry.  After seeing the movie more than once, I concluded that he was perfect for the role.   O’Neal was more of a pretty boy in Hollywood and did not have a lot of charisma in his persona.  Nor did he have the depth in acting to portray charisma.   However, that is exactly what Barry is in the film.   He is a pretty, intelligent young man with little charisma and even less morals.   He understood that he needs to take advantage of circumstances when they appear and how to use his looks to his advantage, but in most cases, he just lets events happen to him.     Other than at the beginning of the film before he must go to the army and grow up quickly, O’Neal as Barry never has much emotion or feeling for anyone except his son and this lack of charisma helps very much to enforce this aspect about him.     Kubrick was never one to film heroic characters and always preferred to use flawed and even immoral people as the stars of his films.   Think Alex from “A Clockwork Orange”, or Jack from “The Shining”.   Barry is another one of those characters, and it is exactly O’Neal’s blank and thoughtless expressions that help to bring this out on the screen so perfectly.  

Stanley Kubrick was a lover of classical music, and this is the movie where he could place this music in its rightful place.   All the classical composers whose pieces he used in the movie lived during the same period that the movie takes place.   Whether a beautiful piece by Vivaldi, Bach, Paisiello, Mozart or Schubert, each music score fits the gorgeous visuals like a missing piece of a puzzle.   The action, scenery and music fuse into a magical window into the past.   

Stanley Kubrick’s, “Barry Lyndon”, is a three-hour masterpiece that uses an unlikeable main character as its focal point in depicting a long-gone way of life.   It is also a spectacular, spell binding, and visually exciting movie, making it one of my favorite movies of all time.    It is a must-see cinema for all lovers of great art.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

Recently, our world has been filled with real-life horror stories, which, for me, makes watching horror movies for entertainment extremely unappealing. Still, I recently sat down to re-watch Tobe Hooper’s low-budget iconic horror film, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre”. It is a testament to the power of this movie that it retains its power to scare and instill constant tension and is one of those rare films that does not age with time, retaining its ability to scare even today.

The movie initially tried to trick its audience with a narrated introductory statement that falsely claims that the story is based on real events.    It is not.    Sure, there was a monster named Ed Gein in the 1950s who ate his victims, but this movie, like Hitchcock’s, “Psycho”, has no real relevance to the story of Gein.  The movie is based on pure fiction.  The plot here revolves around a psychotic cannibalistic family who used to run one of those sadistic old-fashioned slaughterhouses.   Since the closure of their animal killing business, they run a desolate gas station used to lure innocent people to their death, before barbecuing them for dinner.    A group of young hippie-like beatniks arrive at a deserted house not far from the cannibals’ home and in one night their fate is determined.    That is about it as far as the plot goes, as the movie follows these young people to their deaths (most of them anyway).   

This is a movie that becomes one non-stop exercise in tension and suspense. The film follows the victims in a designed way that makes the camera feel like an accessory to the crimes. The camera is not simply a tool of photography, rather an almost living part of the story that follows the poor victims from behind and hidden in the distance. This style gives the film the look and feel of a documentary which adds to its chilling effect. In fact, when one of the victims gets taken to a gruesome end, usually the camera does not follow them to the final act. Even when the camera does enter the scene of the crime, it prefers to concentrate its view on the reaction of a living spectator rather than show us the horror that is occurring. In this way, my imagination of what was occurring and how it was occurring was more horrifying than anything a fictional movie could show. The use of 16mm cameras to film the movie served to add to its authentic look, as the grainy appearance of the movie adds even more dread to the proceedings.

I don’t believe that Tobe Hooper was a special innovator or had any real special talent, as many of the trend-setting effects he uses in this movie were done either by accident or by necessity.  For example, his decision to show most of the killings off-screen was done only because he wanted to get a PG rating for his movie.   The effect this had on increasing the horror was purely by accident.   Also, his use of a 16mm camera was due to the small budget he had available.   The cinematography and set designs, however, are superb, with their dark visualizations of a dark, evil place.   The cannibal’s house is decorated with animal and human bones, depicting the slow evolution of these crazies from animal killers to cannibals.   The appearance of their house plays a large part in the dread-filled atmosphere.     

Surprisingly, the performances within a very basic horror movie script are all believable.   Low-budget horror movies that do not have money for re-takes are usually filled with embarrassing acting.  Not in this movie, however, as each actor holds their own within the script’s limitation.    The group consists of two couples and one of the girls’ handicapped brothers, whose purpose is to be so irritating that we want him to be a victim, even though he does not deserve the horror inflicted on him by the cannibal family.   The low budget caused the film crew to work 7 days a week and 16 hours a day for over two weeks, with the actors wearing the same dirty clothes unwashed throughout that time and during a hot summer Texas heat wave.   Their uncomfortable tiring demure comes out in the film, adding even more realism to the story of the horror being shown.  

The performances of the Cannibals are also pretty much to the point, while over the top, also restrained enough as to not appear unintentionally humorous. Something that was not successful in all the subsequent sequels. Of course, of these characters it is the murderous, mentally deformed, human-skinned masked Leatherface who steals the show. This is the hulking hillbilly gimp who uses a chainsaw as his weapon of choice. Gunnar Hansen, who plays Leatherface, studied the physical language of people with serious mental handicaps and emulated them in his depiction. The result, along with his large size and monstrous mask, is the creation of one of cinema’s iconic and more frightening monsters.

This is a movie with a short, tight running time that builds right at the start with unease and tension that just grows and grows until an explosive end of sheer terror through the perspective of the last victim.  In one scene, Hooper makes an unusual and effective decision to show us a close up of this victim’s eyes as she screams in unholy terror.   

One interesting aspect of this movie is that it serves as a very effective vehicle for the vegan lifestyle.   Throughout the movie there are visual comparisons of how we kill livestock for food to the cannibalistic horror portrayed.    The handicapped character even gives a vivid explanation of how steers are killed in slaughterhouses.    I am sure that this movie is a favorite with the vegan crowd.     

Boasting a simplistic plot that never tries to explain anything with any depth, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” is still a non-stop exercise in nail-biting tension and terror. If that is your cup of tea, then this is a movie for you.