#Every Texas Chainsaw Massacre Movie Ranked Worst To Best

The fundamental unease of “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre” is best explained by the dueling thought processes of its writer and director. Kim Henkel researched homegrown serial killers like Ed Gein and Elmer Wayne Henley. Tobe Hooper wondered if there was a faster way to cut through department store crowds at Christmas time. 

The opening crawl rings too true. The desecrated corpses in the first shot, straddling a gravestone like Halloween decorations, look too ripe. Immediately, effortlessly, “Massacre” threads the awful textures of waking life through the aberrant rhythm of nightmares. Before the weirdo hitchhiker does what weirdo hitchhikers do, he cuts his hand open like a magic trick. When Leatherface makes his grand entrance, it’s on his schedule, seconds out of joint with any goosebumps that have been forecast. By the time a blood-sucking mummy wheels to the dinner table, it’s as regular as Rockwell; just like unfortunate survivor Marilyn Burns, the audience doesn’t have much sanity left to lose.

“The Texas Chain Saw Massacre” is alchemy. It was born wrong, the reckless work of amateurs who didn’t know better, and got worse, leaving all the bodies and minds responsible for production with souvenir scars. A few years in either direction, technical limitations wouldn’t have crippled it in the right way, and the culture wouldn’t have taken turns banning and basking in it. The impact of its thrills, real and forcibly imagined, is so seismic that everything after could’ve only been a whimper by comparison. Seven sequels, prequels, and remakes later — not counting the one still to come — there’s nothing quite like it. The blade still spins. The saw still smokes. Don’t mess with “Texas,” because it’ll still mess with you.