Texas Chainsaw Massacre '22 enters Neflix, adding another notch to the rampaging-slasher series. I've appreciated all entries, though some are more or less alternative offshoots than clinging prequels/sequels, with only a few creeping close to the Tobe Hooper/Kim Henkel '74 original in their visceral vantages.
How then does director David Blue Garcia's yet-another-direct-sequel-to-the-original perform? Well, it's pure, cold-sweat adrenaline once it gets rolling and pure, suffocating doom during its interludes, thanks in no small part to Fede Alvares/Rodo Sayagues' concept and Chris Thomas Devlin's script, which is embellished by Sayagues' steamy cinematography and Colin Stetson's fervent score. These well blended elements put Chainsaw '22 on a par with the founding pic (not to mention the spirited '03 remake and a previous, 3D/alternate sequel), and that Marilyn Burns' Sally Hardesty, now played by Olwen (The Survivalist) Foure, is back for revenge strengthens the link. All the same, this isn't a full-fledged, never-saw-that-before breakthrough, and so...
Chainsaw '22 buzzes across the screen as another slice-and-dice indulgence, with Mark Burnham taking the chainsaw-jutting lead, looking familiar but redesigned, as brutish and nightmarish as Leatherface should. On all pivotal points, he hulks and darts about as expected, but then at this stage of the backwoods game, what's a madman to do? Leatherface doesn't need a specific motivation to justify his primal thrust; just let him thrust. On the other hand, if one must engage the nitty gritty, Leatherface collects bodies for meals (always has, always will), but perseverance and preservation are also additional factors for the masked butcher in this particular chapter: ironic, considering that such characterize those he pursues.
As for Leatherface's invading morsels, they're portrayed by Elsie Fisher, Nell Hudson, Sarah Yarkin, Jacob Latimore and Jessica Allain: each curious but naive for the necessary pickin'. (BTW: Alice {Trek 8/Ghost Story} Krige cameos as Leatherface's compatriot/mom, and Moe {Vikings} Dunford says howdy, as the obligatory, can-he-be-trusted, cool head.)
As mentioned previously, Leatherface also reunites with his old and most famous victim, and sweet ol' Sally does give the encounter a nice, Laurie Strode slant, which (beyond Dennis Hopper's Lt. Lefty Enright in Texas Chainsaw 2) hasn't been a common, plot device in the ferocious franchise. The vengeful eye-to-eye is a tense, if not reasonable, melodramatic shakeup (though in this instance, staged with subtlety); it works quite well.
On the further, standard hand, it doesn't matter how meek, tough or revenge-thirsty folks get in this insertion. Those who cry, fight and die do so hard, and when one might survive, we wonder for how long. Shucks, do any of Leatherface's prey survive the hell he puts them through? Ah, there lies the bloody rub! Escape is but a ruse, whether it spans minutes or decades beyond the cerebral-clanging fact.
Texas Chainsaw '22, as it stands, is a tale of frenetic survival and contemptuous pursuit, its originality absent in favor of austere atmosphere and funhouse hijinks, which sometimes wander into the grassy expanses of frightened flight. Garcia's direction ensures the thorough spree stays on nightmarish track, even if that makes his taut contribution par for the impetuous course. (Those faithful to the gory core won't bemoan the approach.)
By the time the final, frightful shot sears the eyes, this new Texas Chainsaw has delivered a raw yet resumed landscape for a scary string of films that doesn't seem apt to cease anytime soon nor (for the sake of grindhouse, horror enthusiasts) should it.
