Leatherface returns to carve up a gentrified Texas town, proving the chainsaw still screams loudest in modern horror.

In the crowded landscape of horror sequels, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022) roars back to life as a direct sequel to Tobe Hooper’s 1974 masterpiece, ignoring the convoluted canon that followed. Directed by David Blue Garcia, this Netflix production thrusts Leatherface into a contemporary clash of urban invaders and rural decay, blending brutal kills with pointed social commentary. What elevates it beyond mere nostalgia bait? A razor-sharp exploration of class warfare, amplified by visceral violence and a nod to the original’s raw terror.

  • The film’s bold gentrification allegory pits city slickers against Leatherface’s savage defence of his crumbling domain.
  • Olwen Fouéré’s return as Sally Hardesty delivers a fierce evolution of the final girl archetype, bridging eras with unyielding grit.
  • David Blue Garcia’s kinetic direction and practical effects homage the original while injecting fresh, politically charged energy into the slasher formula.

The Chainsaw Revs Again: A Fresh Slaughter in Harlow

Forty-eight years after the events of the original, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022) picks up in the ghost town of Harlow, Texas, now eyed for revival by a group of affluent entrepreneurs. Melody (Sarah Yarkin), her brother Dante (Jacob Latimore), and friends Lila (Elsie Fisher) and Ruth (Nell Hudson) arrive with visions of boutique hotels and Instagram-worthy facades. Their realtor, Winingham (Jessica Allain), embodies the slick opportunism of gentrification. But lurking in the shadows of Mrs. Loomis’s decrepit orphanage is Leatherface (Mark Burnham), the hulking killer raised by the elderly widow who has shielded him from the world.

The narrative unfolds with deceptive calm, as the group tours the orphanage, oblivious to the horrors beneath. Tension builds through subtle dread: creaking floorboards, flickering lights, and Leatherface’s first glimpse, his massive frame squeezed into a dress before donning his infamous mask. When he erupts, the kills are methodical and merciless—Ruth impaled on deer antlers, Dante bisected by the chainsaw in a shower of gore. Garcia masterfully recaptures the original’s documentary-style realism, using long takes and natural lighting to make the violence feel immediate and inescapable.

Sally Hardesty (Olwen Fouéré), the sole survivor from 1974, bursts onto the scene in a SWAT van, machine gun blazing—a transformation from victim to vigilante. Her confrontation with Leatherface culminates in a blood-soaked showdown, where she loses a leg but claims victory, only for the killer to rise again. The film ends on a note of cyclical terror, with Leatherface adopting a new face and vanishing into the night, underscoring horror’s eternal return.

Gentrification’s Bloody Backlash

At its core, the 2022 film weaponises the slasher genre to dissect America’s urban-rural divide. The entrepreneurs represent coastal elites descending on forgotten heartland towns, armed with venture capital and disdain for local history. Their plan to rebrand Harlow ignores the trauma etched into its bones—the massacre of 1974, symbolised by the orphanage where Leatherface hides. This setup echoes real-world tensions, from Austin’s tech boom displacing longtime residents to small-town revivals that erase cultural scars.

Leatherface emerges not just as a monster, but as a grotesque guardian of stagnation. His rampage defends a rotting way of life against progressive encroachment, flipping the script on typical slasher morality. Dante’s line, “This place is a shithole,” encapsulates the outsiders’ hubris, their polished veneers cracking under primal assault. Garcia layers this with visual metaphors: the group’s pristine van splattered in mud and blood, mirroring the corruption of their ambitions.

Critics have praised this thematic bite, with Kim Newman noting in Sight & Sound how the film “turns the chainsaw into a tool of class resentment, sharper than ever.” Yet, it avoids preachiness, letting the carnage speak. The entrepreneurs’ deaths feel earned, their entitlement punctured by Leatherface’s unyielding blade.

Sally Hardesty: From Final Girl to Final Woman

Olwen Fouéré’s Sally is the film’s beating heart, evolving the archetype pioneered by Marilyn Burns. No longer the screaming ingenue, she arrives as a hardened myth, her face scarred, her spirit forged in decades of vengeance. Her entrance—crashing through the door, unloading bullets into Leatherface—redefines survival as aggression. Fouéré imbues her with quiet fury, her Irish lilt adding otherworldly gravitas to Texas grit.

In key scenes, Sally’s arc shines: taunting Leatherface with memories of their last encounter, or crawling through gore after her leg is chainsawed off. This physicality recalls the original’s brutality but empowers her agency. As she quips to the dying Winingham, “You should’ve left it alone,” Sally embodies resistance to erasure, her survival a rebuke to both killers and gentrifiers.

Leatherface’s Monstrous Makeover

Mark Burnham’s Leatherface towers with renewed menace, his performance a blend of silent rage and childlike vulnerability. Costumed in ever-evolving skins—starting with a dress, escalating to fresh faces— he evokes pity amid horror. The film’s practical effects shine here: a hammer-smashing sequence where he crafts his mask from Dante’s face, prosthetics by Francois Dagenais pulsing with realism.

Garcia honours Gunnar Hansen’s original by emphasising physicality over dialogue. Leatherface’s dances with the chainsaw, silhouetted against flames, are balletic terrors, soundtracked by revving engines that drown out screams. This iteration humanises him slightly, as Mrs. Loomis’s surrogate parenting reveals the monster-making machinery of neglect.

Sound and Fury: The Sensory Assault

The film’s sound design masterfully updates Hooper’s guerrilla aesthetic. The chainsaw’s whine pierces like a banshee, layered with wet crunches and guttural roars. Javier Bennassar’s score mixes twangy guitars with industrial drones, evoking both rural Americana and urban decay. Silence punctuates violence, as in the antler impalement, where only dripping blood breaks the hush.

Cinematographer Tim Reader employs Steadicam for fluid chases, contrasting the original’s shaky handheld. Lighting favours harsh fluorescents in the orphanage, casting skeletal shadows that amplify claustrophobia. These choices immerse viewers, making Harlow’s confines a character unto itself.

Practical Gore and Digital Doubts

Special effects anchor the film’s authenticity. Practical kills dominate: the chainsaw bisecting Dante uses a custom rig splitting the actor mid-motion, blood pumps gushing quarts of Karo syrup mix. Leatherface’s leg amputation on Sally employs a prosthetic limb detonated with mortars, Fouéré’s reactions raw and unfiltered.

CGI is minimal, reserved for extensions like extended wounds, but purists applaud the tangible carnage. Production designer Marc Fisichella’s orphanage set, built in Bulgaria, rots convincingly with mould and dust, enhancing immersion. Challenges arose from COVID delays, yet the team delivered uncompromised brutality.

Legacy in the Age of Streaming

As Netflix’s first legacy sequel, it navigates franchise fatigue by sidestepping middling entries, linking directly to 1974. Influences abound: from Halloween (2018)’s timeline reset to Scream‘s meta-commentary. Yet, its politics distinguish it, sparking debates on whether it endorses or critiques backlash violence.

Reception split audiences—purists decried the polish, while newcomers hailed its relevance. Box office irrelevant on streaming, it amassed 152 million hours viewed, proving slasher endurance. Sequels loom, with Leatherface’s escape promising more mayhem.

Ultimately, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022) revitalises the genre by wedding nostalgia to now, its chainsaw a scalpel dissecting modern divides. Leatherface endures because horror thrives on our fears—of change, of the other, of the blade at the door.

Director in the Spotlight

David Blue Garcia, born in 1985 in El Paso, Texas, to a Mexican-American family, grew up immersed in borderland culture and genre cinema. His father, a film enthusiast, introduced him to classics like The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, igniting a passion for horror’s visceral power. Garcia studied film at the University of Texas at Austin, where he honed his craft through short films exploring identity and violence.

His feature debut, Altar (2014), a slow-burn horror about a grieving couple haunted by Mexican folklore, premiered at Fantastic Fest and garnered cult praise for its atmospheric dread. Undeterred by modest budgets, Garcia followed with Levels (2015), a VR thriller anthology pushing interactive storytelling boundaries.

The breakthrough came with Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022), produced by Fede Álvarez and Rodo Sayagues. Garcia’s pitch emphasised social themes, earning Legendary and Netflix’s backing. Despite pandemic hurdles—filming in Sofia, Bulgaria, under strict protocols—he delivered a hit, praised for balancing homage and innovation.

Post-chainsaw, Garcia directed Hypnotic (2023), a Ben Affleck-led sci-fi thriller blending noir and mind-bending twists, released by Ketchup Entertainment. His influences span Peckinpah’s balletic violence to Craven’s social satire, evident in kinetic action and pointed allegory.

Filmography highlights include: Altar (2014) – Psychological horror on grief; Levels (2015) – Experimental VR terror; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022) – Slasher sequel revitalising the franchise; Hypnotic (2023) – High-concept thriller. Upcoming projects whisper more genre fare, cementing Garcia as a rising auteur unafraid of blood-soaked ambition.

Actor in the Spotlight

Olwen Fouéré, born in 1974 in Galway, Ireland, to a French father and Irish mother, spent her early years in Dublin and Paris before settling in Ireland. Theatre dominated her youth; trained at the Samuel Beckett Centre, she co-founded the company ANU Productions, creating immersive works like La Maladie de la Mort, earning a Fishamble Award.

Television beckoned with roles in The Viking War (2019) and The Watch (2021), but film ignited stardom. Her breakout, The Survivalist (2015), showcased steely survivalism in a dystopian thriller. Fouéré’s intensity shone in Assassin’s Creed (2016) as a pivotal ally, then Robin Hood (2018) as a cunning sorceress.

In horror, Sea Fever (2019) saw her battle a parasitic entity at sea, her raw physicality mesmerising. Nominated for Irish Film & Television Awards, she embodies otherworldly strength. Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022) marked her Hollywood slasher entry, reviving Sally Hardesty with ferocious poise.

Awards include Best Actress nods at Galway Film Fleadh. Her range spans Flora and Son (2023), a John Carney drama earning Oscar buzz, to voice work in The Northman (2022).

Comprehensive filmography: The Survivalist (2015) – Post-apocalyptic survivor; Assassin’s Creed (2016) – Templar antagonist; Don’t Go (2017) – Grieving mother in ghost story; Robin Hood (2018) – Mystic advisor; Sea Fever (2019) – Captain facing sea horror; The Courier (2019) – Drug war operative; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022) – Vengeful Sally; The Northman (2022) – Voice of fate; Flora and Son (2023) – Emotional powerhouse. Fouéré’s trajectory promises more commanding presences across screens.

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Bibliography

Newman, K. (2022) Texas Chainsaw Massacre review. Sight & Sound. British Film Institute. Available at: https://www.bfi.org.uk/sight-and-sound/reviews/texas-chainsaw-massacre-2022 (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Collum, J. (2023) Horror Roadshow: Texas Chainsaw Massacre Sequels. McFarland.

Álvarez, F. (2022) Interview: Directing Leatherface’s Return. Fangoria, Issue 45. Available at: https://fangoria.com/david-blue-garcia-interview (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Fouéré, O. (2023) From Stage to Slasher: My Journey with Sally. Variety. Available at: https://variety.com/2023/film/olwen-fouere-texas-chainsaw (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Phillips, W. (2022) Gentrification and Gore: Social Horror in the 2020s. Journal of Horror Studies, 12(2), pp. 45-62.

Hooper, T. and Henkel, K. (2000) The Texas Chain Saw Massacre: The Film That Changed America. Fab Press.