In his column “How About Now,” Mason Barrett ’28 reviews classic films through a modern lens.

This review contains spoilers. 

“I’m smarter than the average protagonist. I resolve plotlines and think circles around antagonists in ways that writers never even fathomed.” We all tend to think this and these thoughts have become the main criticism of horror movies: The protagonists make asinine decisions with avoidable consequences. But this stereotype is broken by the slasher classic, “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” (1974).

Writer and director Tobe Hooper and co-writer Kim Henkel unraveled the plot over the course of a single day and night in Texas in 1973. Sally (Marilyn Burns) and her brother Franklin (Paul A. Partain) visit an abandoned home owned by their family, accompanied by their three friends, Jerry (Allen Danziger), Kirk (William Vail) and Pam (Teri McMinn). They each wander off to a neighboring house and fall victim to the chainsaw wielding cannibal, Leatherface (Gunnar Hansen).

Since its release, the film has become one of the most beloved and referenced American horror films. The film’s genius is clear as it sidesteps the most obvious tropes of the genre. Instead of relying on the inherent creepiness of the night, most of the film takes place during the day. Some of the most effective moments of horror in the film occur in broad daylight, and so the setting sun becomes a ticking clock, motivating the characters to escape before night, rather than a crutch for the horror.

The film also demonstrates that eliciting fear doesn’t require gore and jumpscares. Don’t get me wrong, said tropes are present in the film, but Hooper and Henkel hardly relied on them. One of the eeriest scenes is simply Franklin rolling around the bottom floor of a house in his wheelchair. We have yet to even see Leatherface and there’s no reason to believe that someone unknown is in the house with him. However, his powerlessness as he struggles on the uneven floor and calls out to his sister for help is one of the hardest things to watch in the film, demonstrating that some of the best horror is often derived from an imbalance of power.

Hooper and Henkel don’t take the easy road with their horror but come up with ingenious ways to induce fright. The scariest trait of the film is how plausible it feels. I’m not suggesting that chainsaw-wielding cannibals roam the Texas countryside, although the film does take some inspiration from real life events. Instead, at no point do the characters’ actions feel inane or only in service of the plot. 

Most horror films characters try to escape danger and ignore many possible solutions for plot convenience. In this film, characters wander off one after the other into the same gruesome fate with no warning signs to turn them away. Thus, the horror comes from watching characters process one by one into the spider’s web as their situation grows more dire. This makes characters more sympathetic and their deaths more tragic.

“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” is a masterclass of bringing creativity and skill to the horror genre rather than overreliance on boring tropes. It’s a fairly succinct story and despite its short runtime (83 minutes) I don’t feel myself wanting anything more. The character deaths are quick and to the point. In a way, this feels strange and unsatisfying, but I think it’s better described as efficient and not drawn out. The film doesn’t ask how many times it can scare you but how many times it needs to scare you. The best way to describe the horror? Intelligent. This time, the horror film outsmarted me.

Editor’s Note: This article is a review and includes subjective thoughts, opinions and critiques.