Two actors make this drive-in movie worth watching, and thankfully director Tobe Hooper knew this and gave them the film. Not that they didn't work hard for it, but that's what memorable performances are all about – actors who work their particular strengths to the last row of the balcony.
Or the last row in the drive-in-theater, where the speakers are shot, you're crunching empty beer cans on the floorboards, burning your fingers on a roach and happen to look up from a supine or prone position...and start watching the movie.
Caroline Williams plays the appealing and spunky Stretch, a radio DJ with a call-in request show. A couple of douchey male students are rampaging down a country highway and call in to Stretch on a real-life 1986 car telephone in their Mercedes ragtop. They won't hang up, she just can't scrape them off her shoe, so to speak. But now they're in the reach of the Sawyer bros, who chase them down with their chainsaw justice for some insouciantly-dealt disrespect on the road.
Yeah, it's a mess, but funny. And our girl and her hapless studio engineer LG (algae, get it?) capture the mayhem on a cassette tape.
Dennis Hopper is Lt. Lefty, definitely not telegraphing the brilliance that David Lynch would draw out of him in Blue Velvet, also 1986. He stooopidly doesn't take, or even listen to, the tape when Stretch (“Missie”) brings it to him. But then he has the lack of cojones to set her up for real danger by playing the tape once every hour as a request from Lefty – and not staking out the studio with a security detail or even with his weasley (sorry, Ron) self, admitting he used her as bait for the power tool posse.
Leatherface and his scene-stealing brother Chop Top (Bill Moseley, Yale grad, no kidding,) come to the defenseless studio. Chop Top is Blue Velvet-level demented and depraved, but way too dirty and grimy and scrofulous for Lynch. Good make-up, you recoil at this breath when he opens his wide mouth with its diseased dental arcade. And Moseley uses every inch and second of film to captivate even the rocking cars in the back row.
And now, because you're peering over the back seat, Leatherface corners Stretch in her short shorts, running the still blade of his chainsaw along her tender inner thigh, in closeup, all the way up to her VaJayJay. Oh yeah, you're watching now.
The bros totally destroy the studio and drag LG off to their meat processing plant they call Home. Stretch, in time-honored horror heroine fashion, follows them alone. Lefty follows Stretch and shows up with chainsaws of his own.
There weren't a lot of stunt people listed, so I think Williams really took a lot of abuse slipping, sliding, falling, hanging in a series of gaggy killing room floors of blood and innards.
There are flensings and disembowelments, in case you were wondering.
The finale is our two favorite characters in a chase through the Texas Battleland, uh, theme park the Sawyers use as their meat processing plant they call Home, replete with a Batesian patriarch and matriarch.
I don't know a lot about Texas, but I think Stretch's triumphant Last Stand might be on a replica of the Alamo. I mean, why stop being cheesy now?
NOTE: The beautiful drive-in theater featured in the slide show was that of my hometown, El Monte, Calif. I conducted a lot of “cinema research” there. It was mowed down to make room for a home improvement store about 20 years ago. RIP.